Chapter 12 #2
“Charles really knows how to work magic in the kitchen,” Kathryn noted.
Annie couldn’t help herself. “Rumor has it he’s rather magical in a lot of places.”
Myra turned abruptly, then stopped. “He is. Especially when it comes to electronics,” she said with a sly smile.
Annie wasn’t sure how to interpret that comment, but she had to agree; when it came to technology, he was aces.
Kathryn seemed unfazed by their exchange. She was appraising the incredible number of toys the Sisters had collected. “This can fit into an intermodal-size trailer,” Kathryn said.
“You are the professional. Get whatever you need and put it on the company card.” Annie was referring to a special credit card from a shell company that Annie managed.
In order for the Sisters to operate remotely, they would often need access to cash or use a credit card.
The card was issued through a bank in Nebraska, where Annie had a business account in the name of “For Barbara,” a company dedicated to helping women.
It wasn’t quite a lie, even if their means were slightly outside the law.
As long as they maintained a balance in the account and the credit card bill was paid every month, there was no reason for anyone to want to audit their books.
“Roger that. When do you want me to pick it up?” Kathryn asked.
“Whenever you want,” Annie said. “I just have to let the hotel know in advance when we will be delivering the goods.”
“I can probably get to it day after tomorrow, transfer to box trucks, and deliver to the hotel in three days.”
“Perfect. It will be a little ahead of schedule, but the hotel promised it wouldn’t be a problem,” Annie said.
“And I’d feel more comfortable knowing everything arrived and the only thing we need to think about is what we’re wearing,” Myra said as she stroked her pearls.
“Okay! We have a plan!” Annie hooted and gave the other two women a high five.
“You have someone to help you, I assume?” Myra asked.
“Yes. Two other drivers are going to meet me at the distribution center. We should be able to do it in one trip with three small trucks.”
“Well that certainly sounds easier than trying to figure out how to get a semi down Fifth Avenue,” Myra said.
“Or trying to get a permit,” Kathryn added.
“Imagine dealing with New York City bureaucracy?” Myra retorted.
“No, I cannot,” Annie added.
“Okay, dear friends, I shall see you tomorrow morning. I’ll plan on getting here around nine once the commuter traffic dies down.”
“Okey dokey,” Annie said, and waved as Kathryn hopped into her SUV.
Myra watched as Kathryn maneuvered her vehicle down the rocky path. “Must seem like driving a kiddie car after being in her truck all week.”
“I never thought of that!” Annie said, and grinned.
New York City was being overrun by drunken Santas, boozy elves, and ossified angels. The dreaded SantaCon had begun.
Frankie was leaving the building when she saw one of the Salvation Army ladies speaking to a police officer.
The woman looked very distraught. Frankie’s people-caring side immediately kicked in, and she moved closer to where the woman was standing.
She could hear the officer repeating what the woman had just told him.
“A drunken Santa knocked you over. By the time you were able to regroup, you noticed all the money in your bucket was missing. Is that right?”
The woman was clearly shaken. “Y-y-yes. In all my years, nothing like this has ever happened.”
The officer continued to write in his notebook. “You’re sure it was a Santa who stole the money?”
“Everything happened so fast. He rammed into me and knocked everything over. Besides, they all looked alike, except he was a little skinnier than the others.”
The officer sighed. He knew it was going to be impossible to find the culprit among the hundreds of other Santas staggering along the sidewalk. “Do you think he did this alone, or did you notice anyone helping him?”
“Like I said, I was so stunned, I couldn’t tell.”
The policeman flipped his notebook shut.
“Okay, Ms. Duncraft. If anything turns up on our end, I’ll be in touch.
Meanwhile, if you think of anything else, please give us a call.
” He knew there would be no further communication on the subject.
Finding a criminal Santa in New York City would be a major undertaking, especially with the extra millions of tourists visiting Midtown Manhattan during the holidays.
After the police left, Frankie went over to the woman. “Is there anything I can do?” She dug into her tote bag, produced a handkerchief, and gave it to the woman. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee? Tea?”
“Thank you, but no. I have to report this to the office.” She began to gather her things, picked up the red bucket, and then began to cry. “I lost a lot of money today. Enough to feed a family of four for a week.”
Frankie bent over and picked up the woman’s bell that was lying on the sidewalk. “Let me help you.”
The woman looked up into Frankie’s eyes. “You are very kind.”
“And you are very brave,” Frankie replied, and then she spotted a glove on the ground next to where the woman had fallen.
She picked it up and wondered if it belonged to the scallywag who’d mugged the volunteer.
She was about to ask when she noticed a slip of paper stuffed in the glove.
“Do you think he was wearing this?” she asked the woman.
“He was wearing a black glove, but I don’t know if that belonged to him. Like I said, it happened so fast.”
The crinkled paper had an address in Brooklyn, and Frankie got a bit of a jolt.
Something told her that little piece of paper might hold the answer to who the thug was.
She knew the police wouldn’t follow up on it, but she might be able to talk her friend Nina into helping her do a little detective work on their own.
She knew it was a crazy idea, but crazy ideas weren’t new to Frankie.
Just as the woman was about to walk away, Frankie placed her hand on the woman’s sleeve. “Do you have an extra minute?”
The woman looked perplexed. “I must report this.”
“I know. But if you can humor me for a few minutes, I would appreciate it. My name is Frankie, by the way. I’ve seen you here for the past several years.”
“I’m Carol. Yes, eighteen years to be exact.”
“Well, Carol, I’m sorry we had to be introduced like this, but would you accompany me across the street?”
Carol still had no idea what Frankie was getting at. “But I really must get going.”
“Please? I promise it won’t take more than ten minutes. Here, let me carry that for you.” Frankie gestured to the frame for the sign and the kettle.
“Oh, it’s no bother,” Carol replied.
“Please?” Frankie said with wide puppy-dog eyes. She placed her hand under the woman’s elbow. “Come.”
The woman resigned herself to the fact that this “helpful young woman” was going to help her, whether she wanted the help or not.
They waited at the crosswalk until the little person in the box lit up to signify it was safe to cross—although one still had to be mindful of speeding taxis.
They passed the front of Saks and then crossed 50th Street and walked one block north.
Frankie continued to guide the woman toward the famous building with two Gothic spires, and beautifully sculpted, bronze doors.
Frankie stepped aside so Carol could enter first. They were now two of the five million annual visitors of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
Carol gulped back more tears and whispered, “Today I needed an angel, and you came along and brought me here.” Frankie took Carol’s equipment for lack of a better word and asked one of the security guards if she could leave it near their desk.
She explained the woman had just been mugged.
For managing as many visitors as they do every day, the guards were patient and kind.
“You take your time,” one of the older gentlemen said to Frankie.
The marble steps to the sanctuary were filled with hundreds of red poinsettias. Dozens upon dozens graced the perimeter’s many altars honoring different saints, where people could light tealight candles and pray to their patron saint.
Carol was not Catholic but appreciated the feeling of peace that filled the sacred space.
Regardless of one’s religion, everyone could use a sense of peace.
Carol sat in a pew while Frankie lit a candle near the statue of Saint Jude, also known as Thaddaeus, the patron saint of lost causes.
Frankie thought it fitting for the situation.
As she walked toward Carol, Frankie noticed the expression on her face.
It was calmer than it had been fifteen minutes ago.
She slid next to Carol as they sat in silence for a few more minutes.
Frankie gave Carol the nod that they should be on their way.
For someone who had been in such a hurry, Carol was less anxious and more stable.
Frankie retrieved Carol’s red kettle and frame and thanked the guards. When they got outside, Frankie flagged down a cab for Carol, reached into her wallet, and handed Carol a fifty-dollar bill. “I hope this helps.”
Once again, Carol’s eyes filled with tears. But this time, they were tears of gratitude. “You really have been my guardian angel today.”
“I am happy to be able to help,” Frankie said, as the driver loaded Carol’s things into the back of the SUV. “Have a good night,” she said, and gave the woman a hug.
As Frankie watched the cab navigate through the traffic, she pulled the piece of paper from her pocket and decided to check it out later. For now, she still had a lot of preparation to do. Giovanni’s mother and aunt were due to arrive the next day.