Chapter 15 #4
“Just like today!” Annie said, and chortled.
They hugged and wished each other a Merry Christmas. As they were leaving, Frankie turned and asked, “What is going to happen to the two men?”
“We shall let you know,” Annie said, and winked. She sensed some nervousness in Frankie. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re not going to kill them or anything. Just torment them a bit.”
“Whew,” Frankie said, grinning. “Glad to hear it’s only torment and not torture.”
Annie, Myra, Maggie, and Kathryn looked at one another and burst out laughing. “Maybe just a smidge.”
Frankie and Nina locked arms and walked over to St. Patrick’s. “I think we both can use a little candlelight and some prayers.”
“How did I ever let you talk me into this?” Nina asked half-jokingly.
“Because you’re my bestie.” Frankie gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Frankie kept her threat of not going back to the office after lunch.
Instead, she went home to change and spend a little quiet time with her kitties.
It had been a surreal day, and she needed some space to clear her head.
Dinner with Giovanni’s family later that evening would require a mental tuneup from the day’s activities.
She slipped into a pair of fleece pajamas and threw herself on the bed.
Bandit joined her lickety-split. His latest “thing” was to pull the scrunchie out of Frankie’s hair and make a nest with it.
Once he was satisfied, he curled up on her hair and rested his head against hers.
Frankie thought it was the sweetest thing, and kept trying to figure out how she could catch a photo of him doing it.
Maybe next time, she’d bring her phone to bed with her—that is, if she ever took a nap again.
She considered it a luxury. She set her alarm for a two-hour doze, which gave her time to freshen up before Giovanni got home and they had to leave for the restaurant.
Giovanni got home earlier than expected.
He, too, wanted time to freshen up and put a little space between work and the next family dinner.
The holidays were a wonderful time of year, but also very demanding.
Giovanni thought it might be because Thanksgiving and Christmas were only four weeks apart.
A lot to pack in over a truly short window.
But everyone in his orbit did their best to keep calm and carry on .
Frankie didn’t hear Giovanni enter the apartment and was startled when he approached the bed. She had been out cold. Like a light. Gonzo. La-la land. She bolted up. “Oh, geez!” she gasped. “I wasn’t expecting you this early.” She glanced at the clock next to the bed.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, either.” Giovanni sat on the edge of the bed and stroked whatever hair Bandit wasn’t sleeping on. “Everything alright? How was your lunch?”
Frankie blinked several times. “Everything is fine.” It was the truth, but Giovanni could tell something else had happened.
“Che cos’è?” he asked— what is it? in Italian.
“Lunch was wonderful. Lovely people. Fun and funny. Food was scrumptious.”
“So, what’s the face you make?”
“Well,” she said, and paused, trying to construct the right words to explain the antics of the afternoon.
Giovanni got close to her face. “Frankie?”
She wriggled her way out from under Bandit and sat upright. “Let’s turn on the news.”
“Why?”
“I’d like to see what happened today,” Frankie said, still searching for the right words, and in which particular order.
Giovanni gave her his quizzical look of one eye closed and his head tilted to one side.
He got up from the bed and held his hand out to Frankie.
She stood, grabbed the remote, and clicked on the local news station.
She was anxious to see if anyone caught the spectacle on the stage at Radio City, and she didn’t mean the one that had been rehearsed by the performers.
Giovanni went into the bathroom and put on a robe.
When he returned, the program showed a chaotic scene traveling across the famous stage.
He got closer to the television, staring at the scene intently.
He slowly turned his head toward Frankie.
She grabbed a toss pillow and stuck it in front of her face.
“Frankie? Those look like your sweater and your boots.”
Frankie pulled the pillow below her chin. “I can explain.”
Giovanni couldn’t help but grin. “I hope so.”
“Let’s say some justice was done today, and I didn’t go to jail.”
“Okay. That’s a good start. Continue, please.” Giovanni pulled the pillow away from her and took her hand. He couldn’t help but think all of this had something to do with the bad Santa.
Frankie began her story with, “Remember the woman, Carol, from the Salvation Army?”
“Yes, and the dangerous trip you and Nina took.”
“Right. Well. …” And she revealed the rest of the adventure in great detail, all the way down to the two British men who forced the bad Santas into a stretch limo.
Giovanni’s eyes went wide. “Kidnapping?”
“No, I don’t think that’s the whole story.
” Again, Frankie tried to find the right words, but she honestly didn’t know.
“But they assured me the men would be taken into custody,” Frankie said, even though she wasn’t clear as to what that entailed.
And she wasn’t about to ask Annie, Myra, Kathryn, or Maggie, either.
“Besides, who would kidnap people with a stretch limo?”
“I think maybe we should stop now.”
“Good idea. Oh, and we’ve been invited to a New Year’s Eve party on Sniffen Court.”
“Ah, that side street with the townhouses? It was a stable at one time.” Giovanni had always been interested in the history of New York.
“That’s the one. Apparently, Annie has a townhouse on East Thirty-fifth Street. Her friend Camille arranged for the Sniffen Courtyard to be transformed into a party plaza.”
“What about dinner with everyone?”
“The party starts at ten. Everyone has been invited, so we can have dinner as planned and head cross-town afterwards. If it’s nice weather, we can walk. Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes; plus, we’ll be walking in the opposite direction of Times Square.”
Giovanni was smiling. “That sounds like a very fine way to spend New Year’s Eve, especially since nobody is cooking this year.”
“Exactly. Even your mother doesn’t have to do anything except throw some money on the roulette table.”
“Oh, she is going to love that!” Giovanni said happily. “It was so nice for everyone to help pay for it.”
“Are you kidding? It was the least we could do!”
“Let’s hope this New Year’s will be a little calmer than last year. Just a dinner and a party, and not on the roof of a police department jail,” Giovanni said, chuckling.
“We have two hours before we have to be at Keens. Let me jump in the shower first so I can primp while you take yours.”
“Perfetto.” Giovanni kissed her forehead, an affectionate gesture Frankie appreciated.
As she was setting the water temperature, she called out, “Did you speak to your mother yet? How did she enjoy the show?” It wasn’t until that moment Frankie froze, realizing Giovanni’s family must have seen the crazy antics in which she was involved.
“No, we haven’t spoken. She sent a text saying they were going to Macy’s to see Santa; then Marco arranged for the sitter to pick up the kids and take them home. The rest will meet us at the restaurant.”
“Uh, boy,” Frankie said quietly to herself. Then she spoke louder so he could hear her: “Well, I am sure they are going to tell us everything about their day.”
That’s when it occurred to Giovanni that his family was most likely in the audience when the wild chase behind the dancing Rockettes took place. He stuck his head inside the bathroom door. “We will not say anything. You will not admit anything. Capisce ?”
“Capisce!”
Several minutes later, a newscaster made another announcement:
Two days after three Salvation Army buckets were robbed, three packages containing five hundred dollars appeared at the sites with a note that simply said, “Sorry.” No one knows who made these contributions, but witnesses said they thought they saw two men dressed as Santa drop something into the kettles.
In another bizarre story involving Santa, there was a disruption in the famous Radio City Christmas Spectacular this afternoon, when two men dressed in Santa garb were being pursued by six women also wearing Santa caps.
None of the participants in this rave have been identified, but one of the women was wearing white rhinestone cowgirl boots.
The police say they are investigating both situations, but do not believe they are related .
Vinny and Jimmy had no idea where they were or what was going to happen to them.
Somehow, they had been drugged. When they came out of the effect of the narcotic, they were in a fetal position, their mouths were taped shut, and their hands and ankles were bound with zip ties.
They assumed they were in a trunk of some sort.
Jimmy tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a muffled whuffwemerf , which, of course made no sense to Vinny.
The vehicle seemed to be parked, and they could hear what sounded like jets in the background.
The only shred of optimism was that they weren’t dead.
At least not yet. Vinny decided it wasn’t worth the effort to try to disentangle themselves.
The only thing they could do was wait until they met their fate.
Then he heard voices: the British guy, and two, maybe three women.
A key fob clicked, and the trunk opened. The two men were staring down at them.
“Looks like they’re no worse for the wear,” Fergus said.
“Okay, gentlemen, you shall accompany us.” He and Charles helped them unfold themselves from the trunk and assisted the weary men up the short flight of steps to the aircraft.
Vinny and Jimmy were still in a twilight stage as Charles buckled them into two seats in the rear of the plane.
The minor exertion must have tired them, because in a minute, they were fast asleep again.
“Looks like we got most of this sorted,” Charles said to Myra as she ascended the stairs.
“I knew you would.” She kissed him on the cheek.
“What are your plans for these two clowns?” Maggie asked.
“I think they shall be our guests in the basement, just long enough to learn their lesson. After all, they didn’t inflict any bodily harm, and from what we can surmise, they actually returned the money and then some,” Myra said.
“So, they’re not bad people. Just have bad judgment, would you say?” Maggie asked in her reporter voice.
“That’s a good summation,” Annie said. “You can put that in the article you’re going to write about Bad Santa Makes Good . We’ll just leave their names out of it.”
“How long are they going to be our guests?” Charles asked.
“We can’t do anything before Christmas, and we have the gala in two days.”
“I suggest the two of you stay here in New York, and we’ll get them settled at Pinewood. We should be back in a pinch,” Charles said.
“Who is going to mind these lads while we’re gone?” Fergus asked.
“I already spoke to Pearl, and one of her people agreed to babysit. Next, we have to plan our move on extraditing Mr. Barflow. Meanwhile, you can give each of these men a cell of their own,” Annie said.
“I’ll even put a Christmas tree at the end of the tunnel. Just to remind them of what they’re missing,” Fergus said with a gleam in his eye.
“Speaking of missing. What do we communicate to Vinny’s mother?” Fergus asked. “And Jimmy’s family?”
“We’ll send Mrs. Massella a text from his phone, informing her he was comped for three nights in Atlantic City and that Jimmy is driving. They’ll be back in a few days, and to please let everyone else know,” Myra replied.
“She is not going to be happy about that,” Charles said, and chuckled.
“That will be one more penalty for his misdeeds,” Fergus said to everyone’s delight, with hoots and cackles.
An announcement came over the PA system. “Ladies and gentlemen. This is the captain speaking. We have been cleared for takeoff. Please fasten your seat belts.”
Everyone looked at one another and roared, and then Myra and Annie stepped off the plane and headed back to the townhouse.