“Looked like a manuscript to me. I read parts of it while I was waiting.” Chris gave her a weak smile. “It’s something about weapons smuggling during the Bosnia peacekeeping mission.”
“Oh my God. I wonder if it names who was responsible.” Mary looked around at the surrounding woods. “Is there someplace I can go to read through this?”
“You don’t have much time. Midnight will be here all too soon, and you have to get across town to Santa’s house.”
“I have to know. Do you happen to have a flashlight?”
“Yeah, come inside the trailer, I have a flashlight in there.”
Mary followed him back to the trailer and climbed up the rickety steps. Once inside, she dropped to the floor and shone a flashlight down on the loose pages of a manuscript that had somehow changed her life forever.
* * *
Noise bombarded him when Nick stepped through the doors of the police station. Chief Landham stood in the middle of Silas Grentch, Jasmine Claus, Silas’s hired cameraman and half a dozen of what Nick guessed to be the concerned residents of North Pole, everyone talking at once.
Officer Trey Baskin climbed onto a chair, placed two fingers in his mouth and blew a piercing whistle that had everyone silent in seconds. “That’s better. Let the Chief talk.”
“Thanks, Trey.” He turned to Jasmine Claus. “We haven’t heard from Santa since he disappeared. We’ve followed every lead, questioned all his friends and I’m sorry to say, we found nothing. We’re doing the best we can.”
Silas shoved his way through to the chief, dragging the cameraman behind him. “Chief, do you think Santa could actually be running from the law and doesn’t want to be found?” He held the microphone in front of the police chief.
Landham shoved the mike away. “Turn that damned thing off, Silas. There is no evidence to suggest Santa is in any trouble with the law.”
“That’s right. My husband is a good man. It’s the people in this police department that are a bunch of fools,” Jasmine Claus cut in. “I had to hire a private investigator to find my husband since your department obviously can’t.”
A man behind her cleared his throat. “Mrs. Claus, I haven’t found him yet.”
Jasmine drew up on her high heels, topping maybe five feet to the man’s six feet. “Which reminds me...you’re fired.” She swiveled back to the chief. “I’m headed to Fairbanks to hire another private investigator. I expect you to call me immediately if you hear anything about my husband’s whereabouts.”
The chief nodded, his lips tightening. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Claus stormed out of the chief’s office, followed by the jobless P.I., arguing over his bill.
Nick couldn’t help believing they deserved each other, he pushed his way through the mob, determined to report Mary as missing.
“What are you doing about Bob Feegan’s murder, Chief?” a citizen yelled above the growing noise.
“We have the Alaska State Troopers examining the crime scene and collecting evidence.”
“Do you have any suspects in mind?” Silas asked, shoving the mike at the chief.
Landham glared at Silas. “If you don’t get that thing out of my face...”
“Could Santa have killed Bob Feegan, Chief?” Silas persisted.
“We don’t know who killed Bob Feegan.” Landham nodded to Officer Baskin. “Will you get these people out?”
From his perch on top of the chair, Trey whistled again to get the crowd’s attention. “If you want us to catch the killer, leave and let us do our jobs.”
One by one, people vacated the office, worried frowns on their faces.
The chief spotted Nick and waved him forward. “Nick, I’m glad you stopped in. I wanted to ask you a few more questions about what happened at Feegan’s earlier.”
“I’d be happy to answer any and all questions, but I have a more pressing need.”
“What is it?”
“Mary Christmas and Chris Moss are missing.”
