“Excuse me,” Macy announces, hands on her hips and using the tone of voice usually reserved for correcting major historical inaccuracies. “I’m the one who solved this case! I’m the one who accused her directly and made her confess! Why are these two suddenly getting equal credit?”
Dad bows her way. “And highest compliments to you, Macy. You are clearly the mastermind sleuth around here.” I hope Bizzy and Buffy can forgive me. I’m just trying to keep the peace.
Macy lifts a shoulder my way and smirks. “Finally, someone who appreciates my superior detective techniques.”
“You’re absolutely right,” I say, because sometimes familyharmony requires acknowledging that Macy’s sledgehammer approach actually worked better than our subtle questioning. “Your direct accusation broke the case wide open like a piñata filled with the terrible truth.”
“Thank you!” Macy replies with satisfaction. “Sometimes you need someone with the courage to be blunt.”
“You were like a prosecuting attorney,” Buffy adds generously. “Your methods were very effective.”
Macy practically sparkles under the praise, clearly deciding that being crowned the sister who cracked the case is all the glory her ego needs to carry her straight through New Year’s.
Jasper finishes his official business and transforms from law enforcement officer back into Santa Claus with role-switching skills that would impress the head elf himself.
“Ho ho ho!” he announces, reaching into what appears to be a Santa bag filled with chocolate candy canes. “Who’s been good this year?”
“This is either the most festive arrest in the history of law enforcement,” Georgie says, fanning herself with a candy cane, “or I’ve just found my new holiday fantasy—a Santa with handcuffs and a Glock.”
The sight of Santa distributing candy canes immediately after arresting a killer is so delightfully unhinged that guests start pulling out their phones to document what’s clearly going to be the most unique Christmas memory any of us will ever have.
“Can I get a picture with Crime-Solving Santa?” Georgie chirps, somehow looking completely untouched by the earlier chocolate-related chaos. A true Christmas miracle indeed, considering it’s usually Georgie diving into the deep end of the chocolate fountain headfirst.
“Of course!” Jasper replies in full Santa character, posing for photos while an entire swarm of deputies handles the criminal transport logistics like professional elves with badges.
This family never does anything in a normal manner,Ben says as he watches Mom organize a family photo session with Santa Jasper.In fact, this family wouldn’t recognize normal if it giftwrapped itself and sang carols.Dating Ree requires a strong sense of humor and possibly hazard pay. But I wouldn’t change a thing.
I can’t help but smile his way. I wouldn’t change a thing about him either.
Even baby Matilda gets in on the commentary action. “Santa caught the bad lady!” she announces with adorable approval from her perch in Hammie Mae’s arms. “Justice for Christmas!”
“Did that baby just use the wordjusticecorrectly in context?” Mom asks, bewildered, while looking around at the crowd. “Because I’m pretty sure my own children weren’t using words like that at six months old.”Let alone my grandkids, but I’m keeping that part to myself.
I frown her way for even thinking it.
Meanwhile, Georgie appears to have temporarily suspended her elf evaluation program in favor of documenting the chaos. “This is better than any Christmas chick-flick I’ve ever seen!” she shouts, taking approximately seventeen photos of Jasper posing with various guests. “Santa with handcuffs! Now that’s entertainment!”
At least she’s found something more interesting than rating the waitstaff,Mom thinks with relief.
Matilda Westoff approaches with baby Matilda and a look of genuine gratitude that makes me realize how stressful it must have been to be suspected of murder while dealing with a missing cat crisis and maintaining social appearances.
“Thank you, girls,” she says sincerely. “I appreciate you getting to the truth, even if your methods were a bit...intensefor my granddaughter’s ears.”
“Bad lady is gone!” Baby Matilda laughs and claps as she says it. “GiGi is safe now!”
Smart baby,Fish mewls.She understands justice better than most adults—and most politicians, too.
Even Cordelia Goldleaf manages a gracious nod of acknowledgment my way, although I suspect she’s mostly relieved that her charity fraud issues are minor compared to murder charges. And I’ll make sure there are charges. If I’m donating to a charity for children, there had better be children who are benefiting from every dollar. She has a lot to answer for.
“Well done,” she says with a stiff composure that suggests she’s already calling lawyers and accountants. “I’m sure we can all move forward from this unfortunate situation with minimal legal complications.”
Translation: please don’t look too closely at my financial irregularities.
I nod her way, watching her maintain a professional smile despite what’s clearly going to be a complicated legal situation for her once we get on the other side of Christmas.
The evening winds down with the kind of organized chaos that only happens when an entire town has just witnessed a murder confession followed by Santa wielding a weapon.
Carolers resume their performance, guests continue taking photos with the chocolate fountain destruction in the background, and the furry among us bask in their newfound status as local crime-fighting heroes.
