Chapter Ten
Tom stayed silent, aggravation riding him like the harness on a reindeer. He turned into the side alley by the gazebo. Eyes alert, he checked for black cars, for footprints, but there was nothing to tip off who’d carried the figure into the park.
Summer’s gasp made him shift his attention to the grassy area. “Must be fifty or more people here.” The sound system shifted to Frosty the Snowman as he got out of his car. Carmen pulled in behind him.
Out of her vehicle, she came to his side.
“Is he really here this time?”
Tom pointed at the line. “One way to find out. Go have your picture taken.”
“Joker. I’ll check, though.” She stomped off. She wasn’t any happier than Tom.
Bret pulled in next to Tom’s car. Summer greeted her brother-in-law, and they joined Tom. The Chief pulled in and parked his car next to Carmen’s. Was there anyone left at the station?
“Any signs?” The Chief’s frown was an ‘avoid the man at all costs’ one.
“None. Let’s do a thorough search. Carmen went to double check where he is.”
“What do we do about this?” Bret’s hand swept the group.
Familiar with park parties, Tom shook his head. “Nothing to do. It’s not illegal. Only the theft of Santa is a crime.”
“Clues?” Chief Hudson kept his questions brief, so Tom kept his answers brief.
“Black vehicle at the hospital reported by Rand Caldwell yesterday. We’re searching for it. We’ll have to check the crowd and find witnesses. We’ll do a thorough search of the path.”
Summer squeezed his hand. “I’m going to mingle.”
Tom released her and watched until she disappeared in the crowd. More cars pulled into the parking area bringing more people to the park. It wasn’t one age group. Grandmas arrived with grandkids, neighbors greeted neighbors. It was shaping into an old-fashioned block party.
Carmen came plodding back. “He’s there. I handcuffed him to the chair.”
A smile escaped. The image of Santa in jail made Tom’s mouth quirk.
“You find this funny, Applegate?” Chief had taken a lot of the flak for the problem.
“Actually, Paul, yes I do.” He used his first name on purpose because the man may be his boss, but he was also his friend. “This town is the only place I know that can turn a crime into a party.”
The chief took in the crowd and finally smiled. “Let’s go join in and see what we can find out.”
The cookies were going fast – store bought and homemade; there were cans of soda and water bottles on the next table.
Chips and dips were on another table. Somebody had even moved a trash can to contain the debris.
A dance floor had been corded off with ribbon and tall plastic candy canes.
A large group was currently doing a shimmy to Kelly Clarkson’s Underneath the Tree.
The picture line snaked across the grass to the curb.
A couple of teenagers were using their phones, taking and texting as the pictures were finished.
Groups, singles, kids, grandparents. Summer grabbed him and made him take a picture with her.
He couldn’t decide whether to smile, frown, or look cop-mean. He kissed his wife’s temple instead.
Lucille Heigl appeared at his side dressed in black pants and a festive red Christmas sweatshirt with Santa on the front. She tugged on his sleeve. He followed her to the edge of the gazebo with Summer right behind him.
Lucille handed him her phone. “A message on social media. It’s asking me to read it to everyone.”
Tom scrolled through the text. Same account. No new clues there, and he approved the message. He let Summer view the words. She quietly agreed.
He gazed over the crowd and found Clem delivering food and Garrett helping him.
Finally. The men were old friends. This nonsense couldn’t stand.
The breeze turned mild, and the smells of grass and musty dirt mixed with food and cookies.
“No reason not to read it. This is the heart of it.” His hand swept the crowd.
“I’ll get the mic that goes with the sound system. ”
He left Summer with Mrs. Heigl and got the system arranged for her to speak. Something niggled about the words, but there would be time later for him to break apart the why.
He turned off the music to a bunch of boos. He stepped to the edge of the gazebo. “There’s been another message on social media. Our mysterious person wants it read. Mrs. Heigl.”
The teacher came to the forefront. She took the mic and cleared her throat. “Be quiet there in the back and listen to this.”
She waited until everyone hushed.
“Christmas is about giving. Not lights. Christmas is about believing in each other and our values. Our traditions as a town are about doing for others not fighting over Santa. Santa was borrowed – without permission – to make a trip through town because we needed a reminder that this season is about love, about doing for our neighbors, about generosity, not bigger and better, not taking a step back from the love of the season, not the competition. It’s who we are.
May it be on each of us to make it happen. Feliz Navidad. Merry Christmas.”
Tom kept his eyes on Clem and Garrett. Expressions of remorse aside, they shook hands. A truce was at hand.
Mrs. Heigl wasn’t through, though. She put her phone down.
“Christmas Day is five days away. The food bank needs donations and volunteers for deliveries. We have families struggling. Sal’s has a Giving Tree.
We have elderly needing food and help with small tasks.
See Pastor Gail at the Good Shepherd Church.
And it’s time to thank the Fire Department and the Police Department for all they do to keep us safe.
Do something nice for your neighbors. And to those who stole Santa – good sentiment, wrong action.
Call the police department and fess up.” She turned the microphone off and handed it to Tom.
He looked over the crowd and started the music again before stepping off the stage.
“What now?” Summer slipped her arm through his.
His mood eased. “What Mrs. Heigl said – nice sentiment, spot on. But the wrong way to go about it. Let me talk to Garrett about leaving Santa here for a while, then I’ll drop you back at home.”
“I’d like to stay for awhile. It’s giving me painting ideas.”
“That’s my Summer Girl.” He kissed her temple. “I’ll be home later.””
Summer wandered off, and Tom went to Carmen and Bret standing at the edge of the crowd.
“What next?” Carmen tapped a toe to the music, but her face wasn’t in a festive mood.
“Take the list Norah ran and find the car. We identify it, it’ll trace to them.”
“I’m not at school enough to know everybody’s vehicle, but there is a lot of high school students arriving. What does that say?”
“Somebody blasted everyone on social media.” Carmen shoved her phone back in her pocket.
Bret did the same. “Let me talk to Coach Gutherie. He might know more.” Bret patted Tom’s back and left.
Tom eyed Carmen. “Do I dare put you on Santa guard duty?”
“You bet your ass you can. He is going nowhere until the party is over, then I’ll personally help Garrett chain him where he belongs.” She stalked off in Slade’s direction and grabbed a sandwich from Clem.
The Chief’s car was gone.
Tom sighed. He may have taken a call. Back in his vehicle, he radioed Norah and got his answer. Traffic accident.
He backed out, eyes going over the party again. Pockets of people were talking. Hopefully, they were comparing notes per Mrs. Heigl’s speech.
The old man was found with five days to spare.
Merry freaking Christmas.
&&&&&&&&&&
Mia read Jake’s text message. She hit play on the video he sent and listened to Mrs. Heigl. Grudging respect flooded her. Some of the kids made fun of the old woman hanging onto her glory days. But the whole crowd listened to her.
From the few interactions Mia had with the teacher, she hadn’t know what to expect. She was smart and funny. She dressed smart, acted smart, read well, and spoke well. She was demanding of good behavior, precise work, and minding your future as if it were precious.
She cared about the people around her, too – which was pretty much everyone in town.
Guilt flooded her. The teacher was right. She’d done the wrong thing for the right reasons. Only it didn’t add up. She coughed again, annoyed at the lingering sickness.
Considering her options, she had no good choices. If she could get dressed and get herself to the police station, she would confess.
She had to tell Jake and Daniel her plan. Because Jake had kissed her, and Daniel had stuck with them both, speaking truth when they needed to hear it. They might both hate her later, but Sergeant Applegate had trusted her and she’d used him. That was plain wrong.
She started a text to their group chat, then stopped. She should tell them in person. That was the right thing to do. She erased what she’d typed and slowly began again.
Come to my house.
Why?
I need to talk to you both.
Party is still going on. It’s rocking.
Mia sighed. She should have known it wouldn’t be this easy. The boys were highly distractable.
I’m going to see Sergeant Applegate and tell him the truth. I won’t say anything about the two of you.
NO! Wait. We’ll be right over.
She would be dressed and ready to go. She should call her Mom and read her into the plan.
But she would have to wait because it was going to be hard to get dressed.
She refused to arrive at the police station in her pink candy cane pjs.
Shaky and coughing, she moved slowly to her dresser and eased out a pair of black leggings.
Her chest hurt, but she couldn’t stop now. She stripped while balancing on the dresser and struggled into the pants then a white undershirt without stopping. A wheeze escaped followed by lightheaded swaying.
Whoa.
She found a white mustang t-shirt and her leopard print slippers and shuffled to the bed, sitting on the edge. Arms in the sleeves, she had to sit a minute before forcing the shirt over her head. This would have to do.