Sleigh My Heart (Ashwood Blues #5)

Chapter 1

O fficer Michelle Swenson touched her queasy middle. She regretted having that blueberry scone and peppermint mocha latte this morning. It wasn’t the dead guy in the Santa hat that made her stomach turn. Sadly, he wasn’t her first one of those.

No, it was the ornately carved mahogany sleigh he sprawled across that had her breakfast bellowing for release.

Officer Ian Brannon stepped up beside her. “Beautiful craftmanship.”

“Mr. Jolley does nice work. He’d be pissed to see it here with some random guy in it.” She crept closer to the sleigh, careful not to disturb the scene. What the heck was it doing here, in an alley across town?

“The old guy who plays Santa every year at the mall?”

“One and the same.” Memories of the time she’d been in that sleigh flooded her face with heat. No doubt her cheeks flamed bright red . Damn fair complexion.

She pivoted to scan the alley. It’s not like she could blame her blush on the weather. This morning’s temperatures were in the single-digits.

Brannon gave her a questioning stare. Sure, nothing slipped by him. When she didn’t elaborate, his focus shifted to her hands.

Crap, she was fidgeting. She tucked her hands in her coatpockets. “He was my neighbor. ”

Yup, Santa lived next door. But her memories weren’t of him but his son. Vivid, glorious memories—in technicolor were burned into her brain.

Not that she would be sharing that information with her fellow officer.

In typical Ian Brannon fashion, he remained silent, nodded, and started taping off the area.

Ugh. She hated that. What was the man thinking? No doubt his mind was running through possible scenarios. Likely, coming up with the correct ones. She paused. Or something far worse. She swiveled back to face him, but he already had the area blocked off.

Brannon reminded her of another strong, silent type. While Ian Brannon was a big, soft-spoken guy, he wasn’t her type… or more like she wasn’t his.

Another tall, broad, and quiet man took occupancy in her brain at that moment. One who was very much her type, and just as infuriating.

Not the time. She gave one last look at the sleigh and pushed the memories aside.

The morning manager from Izzy Lou’s Salon huddled in her coat at the edge of the alley. She’d stepped out the back door for her morning smoke, to find a naked guy wearing only a Santa hat over his privates in a sleigh. Not her typical Monday morning.

“Ma’am, do you know… um, Mr. Claus?” Michelle bit back the Santa joke on her lips.

“No. I thought it was weird to see this fancy sleigh in the alley. So I moved in for a closer look. That’s when I saw… him.” Her lip quivered. “I thought he was sleeping at first. You know, had a hum-dinger of a night. Then I saw the blood.” She ran a shaky candy-cane striped tip fingernail across her neck, indicating the knife wound on the victim .

Michelle had her run through the events of the morning, asked her a few more questions, then let her go back to work. By the time Michelle finished, police personnel swarmed the alley. One in particular caught her eye. Her brother, Jim.

She crossed to the inner red tape now roping off the sleigh and victim. She waited for him to look up from examining the scene before she waved him over.

Jim took a minute to talk to the crime scene techs before moving to her. “I hate outdoor crime scenes in the winter. At least it’s not snowing at the moment.”

“Poor Detective Swenson. You had to leave your desk and work in the streets.” She tsked.

“Yeah, yeah. So, what have you got so far?”

“Dead guy in a sleigh.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Is that all you patrol officers got?”

She shot him a you-asked-for-it look. “The victim has a laceration on his neck, it appears to have severed his jugular, but cause of death will be determined by the medical examiner. By the lack of excess blood on the surrounding surfaces, including the sleigh, I would say the body was moved post mortem. This isn’t the location of his death. The scratches on his cheek and shoulders lead me to believe he could have been in an altercation prior to his death.”

“Not bad.”

“You mean for a street cop? We deal in the facts. Speculation is your job.”

“It’s called looking at all the options or i-n-v-e-s-t-i-g-a-t-i-n-g.” He pronounced each letter of the last word.

“Sure it is.” She smirked. The friendly rivalry between the brass and the lowly patrol status was an ongoing thing in the Swenson family. It had grown more lopsided now that she was the only patrol officer left in the family. She opened her mouth to give him another shot when her radio squawked.

His phone pinged at the same time. Dispatch sent out a report of a stolen sleigh and instructions to contact security at the Ashwood Mall. “I’m going to be tied up here for a while. Do you have time to swing by the mall and take the security guy’s statement?”

She held up her hands, palms up, and seesawed. “Stand around in a cold alley or go to a warm mall office? You don’t have to ask me twice.” She responded to dispatch and turned on her heels.

“Mickey. Don’t promise anything. You know.” He gestured to the sleigh.

She did know. Chances of the mall getting their sleigh back by Christmas was slim. She took in the beautiful carving one more time, then nodded and started toward her squad.

“Hey, did you get Dad a birthday gift yet?” He called after her.

She groaned. It was bad enough that she still had to finish her Christmas shopping, but today was her father’s birthday and she had less than eight hours to come up with a gift. “No. What did you get him?”

“I don’t know. Doc handled that.” Jim referred to his wife.

Michelle flipped him off.

Jim laughed.

He was no help. The only person worse to shop for than her father, was her mother. Her siblings all grumbled about what to get them.

Screw it. She’d pick up a bottle of her dad’s favorite Scotch, same as last year.

“See you tonight.”

She waved over her shoulder and hustled to her patrol car. She glanced at the dash clock. If she timed it right, she could pick up a couple Christmas gifts while she was at the mall. She’d swing into the novelty store that had the cop mugs she liked to buy Jim, and maybe she could find some fun socks for her nieces before she got another call.

***

Michelle parked in front of the main entrance to the outside court of the mall in the spot designated for police and security. It was the closest entry to the main offices. She pulled her collar up to block the biting wind as she crossed the open-air courtyard. A massive evergreen filled the center and Santa’s workshop was all decorated and ready for his arrival a week from Saturday. It was quite a sight. Every year, the jolly old elf rode in on that beautiful wooden sleigh pulled by eight live reindeer. It kicked off the weekend full of activities right before Christmas. The outdoor mall drew people from all around during the holiday celebration every year. Unfortunately, crowds also brought crime. Pickpockets and thieves make a killing over the Christmas shopping season.

Michelle glimpsed the Minnesota River just beyond the building as she passed the upscale restaurant on the north end of the mall. A celebrity chef came in and revamped the whole place a year ago. It was one of the Ashwood Mall’s anchor stores, along with a high-end department store and Mr. Jolley’s woodworking store.

She glanced at the ornately carved seven-foot-tall double doors. She’d been there twice. The first time was when a patron had a medical incident. And the second was on a date. Too bad that relationship didn’t last longer than their dinner.

Just one in a long line of failed relationships. She hadn’t had a serious long-term relationship since… Nick ?

Hell, he hadn’t crossed her mind for years. Then that damn sleigh drudged up the man like it was yesterday. Last she heard, he was in Germany, or Bolivia, or some place in Europe. The man was career Army. Her gut twisted like the stripes on a candy cane, recalling the day he enlisted.

“No. Old news.” She shook off the melancholy vibes that accompanied the memories. Work. That’s why she was here, not to stroll down memory lane.

A brown and white, nonintrusive sign pointed down an unassuming hallway to the central hub of the mall, which housed the office.

The brick walls blocked the morning sun. Dull bulbs replaced the bright sunlight as Michelle followed the long path to the door at the end. Hand-painted gold letters on the glass panel told her she was in the right place. She glanced at the black ball hanging in the corner. Camera. It made sense with the entrance in a long, dimly lit hallway.

Time to interview Mr…? Crap. She should have asked dispatch for the head of the mall security’s name. Last time she’d been to a call in the mall, she’d dealt with Old Man Rogers, but word around town was he retired earlier this year.

She peered through the window. Empty. She checked the knob. It turned. With her hand on her duty belt, she checked the perimeter and opened the door.

Warm air greeted her as she entered. Christmas carols played in the background.

“Police. I’m here about a call.” Her voice bounced back to her in the empty room.

Green boughs draped across the reception desk that stood to her left. A six-foot pine tree decked out in red and silver filled the corner to her right. Two guest chairs tucked up on either side of the traditional decor .

“Hello?” she leaned around the reception desk when the door in the back opened.

A tall, thin man in a red shirt and black pants entered. His short, scruffy beard held flecks of red and white.

The twinkle in his cobalt eyes matched that of the jolly old elf she remembered. Add five pounds of snowy beard and a pillow or two around the middle and he’d be ready to play the big guy.

“Mr. Jolley?” She rocked back on her heels as she took in her old neighbor.

“Well, if it isn’t little Mickey Swenson.” He slapped his hands to his nonexistent belly and laughed, “Ho, ho, ho.”

Only Russ Jolley could say ho and not mean the kind who hangs out on Industrial Boulevard at night.

A laugh tickled her throat. Moving into the room, she walked right into the man’s bear hug. The aroma of peppermint and pine enveloped her, bringing back memories of Christmases past.

She patted his arm and stepped back. “It really is good to see you, Mr. Jolley.”

“What did you call me?” He pulled a mini candy cane from his pocket and tapped it on her nose.

“Santa.”

Mr. Jolley, with his booming voice and jovial personality, played Santa for as long as she could remember. Decades. She stepped back and took him in. His beard sported more gray now. He had a few more lines around his eyes, but he hadn’t changed. Michelle remembered thinking he was old when Nick and she were in junior high. She gestured to his red shirt. “You’re still working at the mall’s Holiday Wonderland? ”

“Dear girl, I never think of it as work. I love seeing the children… of all ages.” He sat in one of the chairs and patted his thigh. “Do you want to tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”

Sit on Santa’s lap? That was a big fat no. She could hear the jokes at the station already. Inside, she knew good old Russ Jolley thought of her as a kid. If she hadn’t known him her entire life, she would bust his chops for the creepy comment.

“Thanks, but—”

“Aren’t you a little big to be sitting on Santa’s lap?”

The deep, rich voice sparked something in her memory. She froze. No. It couldn’t be. He was halfway around the world.

But the voice in her head, the one that knew it was, gave a manic laugh. She couldn’t forget that voice even if she tried. And, oh, how she tried. But how could she forget when it lived in her memories during her weakest moments? The times she wondered, “What if?”

Please don’t be Nick. Please don’t be Nick.

Michelle sucked in a breath and glanced over her shoulder.

Well, reindeer poo. If she’d had one wish for Santa, it would be that she had accidentally ingested some hallucinogens and the real Nick Jolley wasn’t leaning against the doorjamb, looking like a freakin’ Christmas gift to woman-kind.

“Michelle?” He showed no emotion. Nothing. The question in his voice was the only hint he was surprised to see her. His face held a professional fa?ade.

She took in the man she loved a lifetime ago. Well, double shit. The Nick standing only a few feet away was even better than she remembered… and very real. All of him. Long, lean, and here—in Ashwood.

“You’re home.” And why did no one warn me?

Her question almost slipped out. Police business . That was why she was here, not for a revival of her long dormant female parts. But one look at Nick and said parts were yawning and stretching after their long winter’s nap. Down, girl.

She cleared her throat. “Nice to see you again, Nick. We got a call about a stolen sleigh.”

“I noticed it was missing this morning.” His gaze locked with hers for the briefest of moments before he moved to the desk.

She caught sight of the security badge on his belt. So, he must be the new head of security. More questions filled her mind. Personal questions.

She cleared her throat. “You noticed it this morning. When was the last time you saw the sleigh?”

Nick rubbed his hand over his chin. “I was in the storage room the Monday after Thanksgiving. It was there then.”

“Not since?”

“No. Christmas decorations were set up back in October. Everything except the sleigh and a few things for the festival.”

“Do you have video in the area?” This could be a quick case if they had surveillance footage of the theft. If not, the window of opportunity just got bigger.

“No. We have outside cameras and hall units, but none in the storage room.” His eyes roamed her form… assessing. That move from most guys would get her creep-meter pegging, but not Nick. His relaxed pose hid his tightly coiled muscles, no doubt. His look didn’t hold the slightest bit of sexual attraction.

Bummer. The man was still hot-as-sin and even though she’d sworn off men after the last guy her mom pushed at her, the woman in her wouldn’t mind a little boost to her ego. A smirk, a brow jet, a groin shift, something to show he was still as affected by her as she was by him.

Move on, girl. She pulled out her tablet to take notes. “We’ll need to see any footage from the surrounding areas from the date you last saw the item to today.”

He nodded. “I’ll have that for you by end of day.”

“Good. Can you describe the missing item?” Now, she was totally messing with him. She not only knew the sleigh, she knew where it was. But being part of a crime, she didn’t think they’d have it back by Christmas.

“It’s my sleigh.” Mr. Jolley jumped up. He wrung his hands as he paced the small area. “It’s tradition. I always ride in on my sleigh for the festival.”

Michelle eyed Mr. Jolley. He was more than a little invested in playing Santa. The persona had always been a part of him, but from the look of him, his attachment to the sleigh had the man’s stress level climbing to that of addicts looking for their next fix.

“Dad, can you give Officer Swenson and me a few minutes?”

She stiffened. So much for the friendly reunion. Formal it was. His posture was stiff. Did someone starch his boxers? Because it’s not like she broke his heart. He did the breaking. That she remembered clearly. He couldn’t handle the thought of her becoming a police officer. Like going into the Army was safer. She gave an internal snort.

Well, fine. If he wanted to keep it all business, she could do that. She turned to Nick. “Mr. Jolley, I have to inform you I believe we found your missing sleigh.”

“That’s wonderful,” Russ Jolley exclaimed from the door to the office.

Nick’s forehead scrunched. “Your eyebrow is doing that thing. What aren’t you telling me? ”

“What thing?” She touched her finger to her brow. She forgot how well he knew her. They had grown up together, played together, and eventually, did other things together. She thought he was the man she’d marry and have kids with. Instead, she became a lonely workaholic. It was probably for the best. She could barely keep her cat alive, like she had time to nurture a relationship. “The sleigh was found in an alley off of Industrial Boulevard. It’s part of an active crime scene.”

Nick dropped his head in his hand and muttered some curse words before composing himself. “When can we get it back?”

Direct and to the point. That’s the Nick she remembered. “I can’t say at this time. Could you show me where the sleigh was taken from?”

Nick nodded, cut on his heels, and clipped down the hall. Michelle smiled and gave a finger wave to Mr. Jolley—uh, Santa, as they exited the office.

Taking two steps to his one, she rushed down the long, heated hall to her left. It brought chills to her arms. The last time she’d been here, it had been with Nick, but then the starch in his shorts was the kind that lit her girly parts with delight.

“In here.” He touched his badge to the black box beside the door.

No signs of forced entry. Huh. “Who all has access to this room?”

“Maintenance, security, and Mr. Silver.”

“I’ll need a list?”

Nick inclined his head—a subtle yes. Standing in the open doorway, he waited for her to enter.

Careful not to brush against him, she slipped by. Too bad, she didn’t hold her breath. Mmm.

The storage room had to be twice the size of her apartment, and four times as cluttered. Shelves lining the walls held boxes marked with labels for every holiday and sale the mall had throughout the year. The creepy Easter bunny stood in the far corner of the room watching them. “You guys still have that thing? It always gave me the willies.”

“You and half the town.”

The Silver family had owned the mall for fifty years. And not much had changed in that time. Oh, they changed a few things here and there, but one thing that never changed was the Christmas festival. The sets grew more elaborate over the years, but it had always been more of a town celebration than just a marketing event for the mall.

The one thing that had changed was standing right in front of her. “And how long have you been working here?”

“September.” He surveyed the contents of the warehouse.

Three months. How had she not known? Ashwood wasn’t that big, and her family was an integral part of the gossip train in town. Being a police family, they had the skinny on all the comings and goings. So how did they miss this six-foot-four coming?

She snuck a peek at Nick, pulling her attention from the layout of the room she was sketching. With his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants, he rocked back on his heels. His badge on his belt said VP of Security. He looked good.

Stop staring at his midsection. She grimaced and dropped her gaze back to the work tablet.

“The sleigh was over here.” His voice echoed from across the room.

What? When had he moved? She really needed to get her head in the case. Carefully, she made her way across to where he stood.

Skid marks in the dust showed where the sleigh was dragged to the large overhead doors. She snapped a photo.

“Where were you between Friday evening and this morning?” she asked, as she took in the scene, photographing the various angles.

Done, silence took the place of the snapping. Had he slipped out when she wasn’t looking? The man had the stealth of a ninja. Was he special forces or something? She made a mental note to check what his Military Occupational Specialty was.

Nick stood a few feet away, analyzing her every move. A shiver zipped down her spine. She pocketed her phone and rested her hand on her utility belt, mere inches from her taser.

Tick… Tick… Tick… Several seconds clicked by before he blinked. “I worked until six last Friday. I had the weekend off. Spent the day running errands, then Saturday night and Sunday at home.”

“Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?” She pulled out her tablet again and waited for his response.

“Ava.” The grit on that one word had her wanting to take a step back.

Who was Ava? A girlfriend? His wife? “Can I get her last name and number?”

He sighed. “Jolley. And she doesn’t have a phone.”

Her jaw ticked. She scribbled a word on her notes... Wife. He had a wife. At one time, she’d thought that would be her. Let it go, girl.

“No phone?” Her gaze connected with his.

The blue of his eyes sparked, and his nostrils flared. “Can we leave her out of this?”

“For now, but if something comes up, I’ll need to speak with her.”

“Fine. Are we done here? I have someplace to be.” His shoes clicked this time as he crossed to the door. Long fingers held it open for her.

Subtle, but she was done here for now. Michelle slipped out, careful not to inhale as she passed him. Cologne, pheromones, she didn’t know, but Nick Jolley smelled intoxicating.

Following him down the hall, her teeth worried her lip. She could leave it at this and let him find out about the murder from Jim, but this was Nick. Something in her gut wouldn’t let her leave him hanging, even if they parted on less than happy circumstances years ago. She stopped halfway to the office. “Nick.”

He peered over his shoulder. When he saw she wasn’t moving, he paused. A brow rose.

“This is more than just a stolen sleigh. Jim will want to talk to you.”

Nick may have only been back a short while, but Ashwood wasn’t that big. Surely, he knew her brother was a homicide detective.

He nodded.

Okay. She’d done all she could here. With one more peek at him, she headed toward the liquor store for her father’s gift, and maybe a bottle of whiskey for herself. The beer in her fridge wouldn’t cut it for a run-into-your-ex drink. Nope, she needed something a whole lot stronger.