“I, um, you’re all under arrest,” he announces, his voice cracking slightly. “For tree theft and… and endangerment and… other crimes!”
“We did it!” I shout. The crowd roars.
“Let me go!” one of the thieves shouts, twisting against Gabe’s iron grip. “It wasn’t even our idea!”
“Save it for the sheriff,” Gabe growls, tightening his hold.
“It’s not our fault!” The thief’s desperate voice cuts through the noise. “Mayor Reynolds forced us! He said if we didn’t do it, he’d make sure we lost our trucking business!”
A collective gasp ripples through the crowd. All eyes turn toward the stage where Mayor Reynolds stands frozen, his face draining of color.
“That’s a lie!” the mayor sputters into the microphone, which unfortunately is still on. “These criminals are trying to save themselves!”
“Said he needed to look good for the neighboring towns,” the thief continues, emboldened by the crowd’s reaction. “Said Christmas trees were just the ticket to help him get votes for his unified county plan!”
The townsfolk begin shouting questions at the mayor, who raises his hands placatingly.
“Now, now, citizens of Snowflake Valley,” he says, his politician’s smile faltering. “Let’s not get carried away. You all need to understand, this is for the greater good of the entire county. Sometimes sacrifices must be made for progress—”
The crowd boos and jeers.
The mayor’s eyes dart around wildly as the crowd’s murmurs grow louder, angrier. I watch his face transform from indignation to panic. When the crowd surges forward, he bolts, jumping off the back of the stage and sprinting toward a side street.
“He’s getting away!” someone shouts.
But Oxford is already moving, cutting across the square and intercepting the mayor’s path. Reynolds skids to a halt, eyes widening in terror as Oxford rears up slightly, standing tall on his hind legs.
“Nice llama,” the mayor squeaks, backing away slowly.
Oxford doesn’t charge. He simply stands there, blocking the escape route with his fluffy but imposing presence. When Reynolds tries to dodge left, Oxford shifts, when he feints right, Oxford counters.
Then, with a look of smug satisfaction, Oxford rears up slightly and…
Spits. Directly in the mayor’s face.
A collective “Ewww!” rises from the crowd as Mayor Reynolds staggers backward, wiping frantically at the green slime now covering his face and expensive coat.
“The Christmas llama has spoken!” someone calls out, and the crowd erupts in cheers again.
Junior Deputy Harris approaches cautiously, handcuffs ready. “Mayor Reynolds, you’re under arrest for… for conspiracy to commit tree theft?”
He looks at me uncertainly, and I nod encouragingly.
“And for abuse of power,” I add.
“And for being a terrible mayor!” Charlie shouts.
Oxford trots up beside me, looking impossibly smug. I throw my arms around his neck.
“We did it,” I whisper into his fur. “We actually did it.”
Charlie laughs beside me. “Snowflake Valley’s first citizen’s arrest, led by a twerking omega and a Christmas llama. This is going on the town website for sure.”
And just because it’s a Christmas miracle, I start twerking—might as well embrace the title.
The crowd erupts with cheers and laughter as I bounce and shake, my body still aching from Oxford’s rescue but my spirit soaring with victory.
Someone starts blasting “All I Want for Christmas Is You” from the speakers, and suddenly I’m not the only one dancing. The entire town square transforms into an impromptu celebration.
