But still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. Brody hadn’t followed them here by accident. Whatever had drawn him to this spot was important. I just had to figure out why.
The wind picked up, carrying the faint sound of carolers from the village behind me. I pulled my coat tighter and stepped back toward the path, my mind spinning withquestions. It was time to regroup with the others and see if the camera held any answers.
I made my way back to Santa’s Village, where the cheerful lights and Christmas music were doing little to chase away the chill settling in my bones. The wind nipped at my face as I walked past the shops, the cinnamon and peppermint scents almost cloying after the sterile, empty cold of the playground. My thoughts churned as I approached the cabin, the photos of the woman and child replaying in my mind.
Kara, the elf assistant, was standing just inside the door, her hat slightly askew and her expression tense. She perked up when she saw me, the jingle of her bells soft as she shifted nervously.
I stepped closer, holding up the photo of the woman, and child that Aurora had uncovered. “Kara,” I said, keeping my voice calm but direct, “is this the woman who complained about Brody?”
Her eyes widened as she leaned in to look at the photo, and I could see the exact moment recognition hit her. She straightened, her expression tightening as she nodded quickly. “Yes,” she said, her voice hushed. “That’s her.”
I studied her for a moment, searching her face for any hint of hesitation, but she seemed certain. “You’re sure?” I asked, just to be certain.
She nodded again, her gaze flicking nervously toward the desk where the photos had been found. “She came in a few days ago, really upset. She didn’t say much, but she was angry, and scared. I remember thinking she looked like she’d seen a ghost or something.”
Her words sent a fresh wave of unease washing over me. I glanced at the photo again, the woman’s face partially obscured by her hat, the little girl clutching her stuffed animal. They looked normal—completely ordinary. But if Brody had been following them, nothing was ordinary.
“Did she give you a name?” I asked, lowering the photo.
Kara shook her head, her bells jingling softly. “No. She just wanted to file a complaint. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I told her I’d talk to Marty about it.”
I nodded, my mind racing as I slipped the photo back into the box. Brody had been following this woman and her child, but the why was still a mystery. And now, with him dead, the pieces weren’t adding up.
“Thanks,” I said, stepping back. “That helps more than you know.”
Kara gave me a weak smile, but I could tell she didn’t feel reassured. Neither did I.
Aurora and Victor exchanged a look, the kind that said they were silently deciding on something without needing to say much out loud. Aurora finally nodded toward me. “We’re going to pop back to the shed and make sure the scene is contained. We’ll be back in a bit.”
“We will text you if we find anything,” Victor added, his tone steady but carrying that underlying edge of authority.
I nodded, watching as they turned and headed back toward the edge of the village. As much as I trusted them to handle it, their absence made me feel the toll of the investigation even more. The others were milling around Santa’s Village, checking out the area, their eyes sharp as they took in every detail.
I pulled the battery pack I’d bought from my coat pocket and returned to the cabin where we’d left the victim’s camera. The cold air still lingered in the room, but it was quieter now, and the festive noise from outside was muffled. Sliding the battery into place, I held my breath as the camera hummed to life, the flip screen glowing faintly.
The first few pictures looked like standard Santa’s Village fare—kids sitting on Santa’s lap, families laughing together, and a few awkward smiles from toddlers on the verge of ameltdown. But as I clicked further, my stomach turned. The images shifted. Close-ups of kids’ mouths. Their knees. Cropped angles that felt too intimate, too deliberate.
My jaw tightened as I turned the camera toward the others. “Take a look at this,” I said, my voice low but clipped.
Nishi was the first to step closer, her brow furrowing as she peered at the screen. “What the hell?” she muttered, her tone dripping with disgust.
“This guy’s a total perv,” I said, my voice harder now as I scrolled through the images, each one more disturbing than the last. It wasn’t just creepy—it was predatory. Brody hadn’t been taking innocent snapshots of holiday cheer. He’d been… cataloging something. Or someone.
Eve leaned over my shoulder, her lips pressing into a tight line. “And here I thought I couldn’t feel worse about this guy.”
Nishi crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Makes sense why someone would want him dead. But birch branches? That’s not a typical revenge kill.”
I nodded, my thoughts swirling. Brody’s death wasn’t random. Someone had targeted him. And judging by what I was seeing, he’d given them plenty of reasons. The only question now was whether his death was mundane justice… or something supernatural.
Eve leaned against the desk, arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the camera’s screen. “What kind of demon would want to kill a child predator?” she asked, her voice steely but thoughtful. “Doesn’t exactly scream typical demonic behavior.”
I slid the camera onto the desk and rubbed the back of my neck, the weight of the disturbing images settling heavily on my shoulders. “The only demon I know with any connection to kids is Krampus.”
Eve arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Krampus? Like the Christmas myth? Hooves, horns, scary bedtime stories for bad kids?”
“Yeah,” I said, deadpan. “And he’s got a major hard-on for Christmas too, so this would be right up his alley.”
Nishi made a face, muttering something under her breath about annoying demons, while Eve tilted her head, her analytical side kicking in. “What do we know about him? The real Krampus, not the folklore.”
