Chapter 3
“ N o moping.” Nick stopped the truck.
“I’m not. But what happened to the snow?” Ava pouted as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Sometimes Mother Nature changes her mind.” Nick’s brow furrowed.
“That’s not fair. The teacher said we wouldn’t have school today.” She picked up her backpack and opened the door.
“They said if… If the storm hit. It didn’t.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Sorry, honey, but that’s why it’s called a weather prediction.”
“I know.” Her lower lip stuck out a little more.
“Hey, maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” She leaned in and gave him a quick hug before jumping from the truck.
That’s his girl. Nothing keeps her down for long.
Nick checked the time as he pulled out of the school lot. He had five minutes.
He made it in four.
Snowflakes lightly fell as he crossed the courtyard. He unlocked the office, dropped his coat and bag on his chair, and crossed the hall to Silver’s .
Nick sucked in a deep inhale and rapped his knuckles on the wooden frame twice before he stuck his head inside. “Boss.”
“Nicholas. Come in. Shut the door.” Horace Silver looked up from his work, blue squares from his monitor reflected in his glasses. With a weathered hand, he gestured to the straight-backed chair in front of his desk.
Once Nick’s butt touched the chair, Silver spoke. “Detective Swenson left me a message yesterday afternoon, something about the sleigh. Did you know it was stolen?”
He straightened his shoulders and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“No, sir.” At first, Nick’s mind was too full of a curvy cop. Then, he hoped to get it back or at least come up with a plan.
Silver dropped his glasses to the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fill me in.”
“I noticed the sleigh was missing yesterday morning. I called the authorities and they are investigating.” Nick debated internally how much to tell him. “The good news is the police have found the sleigh.”
Silver’s face scrunched up. “And the bad news?”
“It’s in evidence.”
Silver tapped a pen on his lips. “What are the odds we’ll have it back by the festival?”
“Honestly? Slim to none. They won’t release it until the case is complete.” When had a homicide case been closed in a week? Never.
“Well, that’s fucking great,” Silver said in a deadpan voice before dropping his head into his hands.
This is bad. Silver never swore, so to come out of the gate with the F-bomb. It’s bad.
His boss pushed up from his desk and paced the office. “You know this isn’t just a sleigh, but it sets the feel for the whole festival. It’s tradition.”
“Yes, sir.” In his short time working at Silver Industries, Nick learned that traditions were of high importance to the owner.
“The festival weekend is our largest grossing weekend behind Black Friday. It will make or break many of the stores in this mall.”
Including his father’s. Nick was well aware of the fiscal atmosphere for physical stores. It sucked.
“Maybe I should sell to the developers. I was hoping to keep it until Junior was ready to take over.” He snorted. “That may never happen.”
“Developers?” Nick tipped his head.
“Oh yeah, I get at least three offers a year to buy the mall. But, it’s not for sale. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
Made sense. The land the mall sat on was prime real estate.
“Nick, you were a problem solver in the military, right?”
Silver had no idea of Nick’s true military missions. His resume only stated he was a specialist.
“Russ is always so proud of you. I know you can’t talk about the things you did, but I need your help.”
Leerily, Nick listened.
Silver leaned in, absolute determination in his eyes. “I need you to do whatever it takes to get that sleigh back.”
“Sir—”
“Nick. Please, I know you can do this.” He dropped back into his chair. “Look around. Each year we have more and more empty stores, less revenue. We have sunk two-thirds of our marketing budget into this event. And the reindeer. Those furry creatures are costing me a fortune. Not to mention the repair I just had done on the sleigh.” Silver’s expression brightened. “Maybe Santa could ride in on one of the reindeer.”
A vision of his father being bucked off, narrowly missing the antlers, had him vetoing that idea. But what else did the man say? “Repair? When did this happen? I don’t remember Dad working on the sleigh recently.”
“A week ago. And he didn’t. I had it taken to a welding shop to fix a ski.”
“Where?” He didn’t need to be a cop to know they would want to talk to that shop.
“It’s the welding place off Division Street.” His boss’s eyes pleaded.
Honor and loyalty stirred in his gut. Mr. Silver was a friend of his father’s. His dad’s livelihood was on the line, and then there was Ava. She was so excited about the real Santa with the sleigh and reindeer. Well, fuck.
Nick pushed off his chair and stood. “I’m on it.”
***
Michelle stirred her station coffee with a candy cane. She took a sip. Meh. Not as good as a fancy holiday latte, but maybe it would shoo away the dread creeping in. Her morning started its downward spin with a text from her brother, but the speed of the slide increased to a full-on bobsled when she got the email from her sergeant informing her of the assignment to aid in the sleigh case. She should report to Detective Jim Swenson first thing this morning.
She closed her eyes and took a gulp of the sweet sludge. Any other time, she would welcome the change of pace… but not this time .
“Who peed in your eggnog?” Detective Ryan Daniels nudged her shoulder as he passed.
She threw him a sparkling smile. “All’s well.” But some spiked eggnog might be on the menu after work.
“Really? Then tell your face.” He sat on the bench across from her. “I know the calls are hectic this time of year. I remember the holiday shifts.”
“Yeah, this is your second year with stripes. How are you liking it?”
“It’s as busy, just a different caseload. But back to you. What’s with the grumpy face? I thought you liked the holidays?”
“I do. I bought my nephews the loudest gifts I could find. It will drive my sisters nuts.” She grinned.
Daniels smiled. No words. He would wait her out. Damn it.
She downed the last of her coffee and tossed the cup in the trash. “I am assigned to work on the dead Santa case.”
“Which one?”
Oh right. She’d forgotten they had the stabbing last week of the bell ringing Kringle. “The sleigh one.”
“Jim’s case. You don’t want to work with family?”
“That’s not it. It’s just… It’s something else. I’m sure it will be fine.” She hated getting personal at work. Jokes—sure. Gossip—of course. But her life—hell no.
“It will. You’re a bad-ass police officer. And your ex will be kicking himself over letting you go.” Ryan stood.
“How…?”
“I saw Jim an hour ago. He mentioned you weren’t happy about seeing the guy who broke your heart.” Steam must have been coming out of her ears, because his hands flew up in a don’t-hurt-me gesture. “Hey, I get it. I had to work with an ex. Well, she was sort of my ex. Anyway, it worked out. ”
“That’s because Erica and you were meant to be together. We could all see that from her first day on the task force. This isn’t the same.” Besides, he had Ava. She imagined Nick’s wife as a short blonde. Probably had a damn button nose as well.
“I’m just saying. You got this.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know you mean well, so I won’t throat punch you for gossiping about me with my brother.”
Jim, on the other hand, better be wearing his tactical gear next time she saw him.
She pulled on her gloves and headed to her patrol vehicle. Time to get to work.
Fat flakes landed on the windshield as she replayed Jim’s message through her head. The snow was accumulating, but not at the rate the weatherperson predicted. Traffic slowed just the same.
Stay calm. Be strong. And kick ass. The mantra ran through her head on repeat as she drove to the mall. Ten more minutes. Twenty if she had to pull over one of these newbie winter drivers.
Two stoplights away, her work phone rang. She glanced at the screen. Unknown number. Her throat tickled. Nick?
No. She shook it off and let it go to voicemail. A moment later, a chime dinged.
Don’t look. It’s not him. Probably just a wrong number. Maybe a heavy breather. Yeah, that would be perfect with the way her day was going.
She exhaled and tapped the message.
“Michelle. It’s Nick.”
Her spine stiffened. Of course, it was him. A mouth breather would have meant her day was looking up.
“I found out the sleigh was in for service last week. I’m going to talk to the company now.” He rattled off the address and ended the call .
“Well, crap.” Michelle stared out the windshield. Why was Nick going to interview the repair guys? The last thing she needed was him playing amateur detective.
A van swerved around the corner, barely missing the side of the patrol car.
“What the hell?” Her heart slammed against her ribcage. The roads weren’t that slippery. She flashed her lights, but by the time the car in front of her moved, the van was out of sight.
Ballsy prick. The light changed. Michelle cut the steering wheel and whipped a U-turn. “Where did he go?” The guy was nowhere to be found.
She tightened her grip on the leather. “He got lucky this time.” If she saw him pull that stunt again, he’d be spending some quality time in lockup.
She checked her time. Shit. She debated flipping on the lights to beat Nick across town, before the man messed with her case.
Ten minutes later, Michelle turned into the parking lot of Billie Dee’s Design and Metal Repair Shop. The concrete block structure had an office door to the left and two large bay doors beside it. A cutout steel sign hung from chains above the customer entrance.
She parked behind a late-model Chevy truck with an Army insignia in the corner of the back window. Nick. He always liked trucks, but she didn’t see him as a four-door guy.
He stepped out as she opened her door. “Right on time, as always.”
Long strides closed the distance between them. Part of her brain registered his words while the rest of her mind was focused on his movements. Relaxed. Confident.
Michelle slammed her door a little too hard. She adjusted her duty belt and gave him her best glare. “Why are you here? This is police business. ”
He shrugged. “I need the sleigh.”
“And you’ll get it once it’s released.”
He lowered his sunglasses. Intense eyes locked with hers. “You made it clear the case needed to be closed first.”
“We are working on it. Trust us.”
His right brow climbed his forehead.
“Okay, trust me.” She didn’t know if that was any better. He used to trust her.
“Trust is one thing, but I need that sleigh. So just think of me as your new partner until it’s done.”
“I could charge you with interfering in an investigation.” She stared at the fat flakes landing on his dark waves.
He smirked. “Would you really, Officer?”
Oh, she would, but looking at him, she didn’t think it would stop him. “Fine. You can question the repair person with me, but I’m not promising anything else.”
His lip crept up in a knowing smile. Yeah, he won this round, but the war wasn’t over. And when it came to Nick, this would be a war of wills.
Nick held the door for her. Chivalrous asshole.
Leaving as much room between them as possible, she slipped by him. It was still too close. Her knees did a little shimmy as she passed him.
Damn Nick scent. Smell was a strong memory trigger, and his was an industrial-size one for her.
Strong fingers gripped her elbow. His eyes silently questioning.
“Be careful. There’s ice.” Yeah, she said it to save face, but Nick’s stoic nod made it clear he didn’t believe her.
The small office housed a counter and two chairs in a waiting area. A morning talk show host interviewed some starlet about her newest movie on the television hanging from the wall. Their voices filled the otherwise empty room.
A faint sound of sizzling floated through a door to the shop. Michelle peered through the wire grate window. White flashes outlined the employee clad in gray overalls. Sparks arced out around him, his body obscuring his welding.
Averting her eyes, Michelle cranked the door and with a raised voice said. “Excuse me, are you Billie Dee?”
Nothing. The guy continued his welding.
“Hey, are you Billie Dee?” She raised her voice.
No change. Maybe he had earbuds in? Michelle took one step in and a loud buzz slapped her to full alert. “What the…” She threw a look over her shoulder. Nick—with his hand on a switch. The sign on the wall below it said, “Press for service”.
The flashing stopped, and the welder flipped up his helmet, pulled an earbud from his ear, then turned. Not a guy, but a woman. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Billie Dee?”
The woman dropped her dark eyes to Michelle’s badge, then back to her face. She pulled off her leather gloves and extended her hand. “Yes, Wilhelmina Denise Jackson, at your service.”
Michelle stepped up and shook the woman’s hand. She had short nails with chipped blue polish and a wide smile. Michelle liked the woman instantly.
Nick, too, shook her hand, then stepped back next to Michelle. “Did you do the repairs on the Ashwood mall’s sleigh?”
Heat climbed Michelle’s neck. This was her case. She should be the one asking the questions. She shot him a glare, but he only shrugged.
“Yes, it had a loose runner. It was a simple fix. Is there an issue? ”
Michelle stepped in front of Nick, establishing her authority. “Did you deliver the sleigh when it was finished?”
“No. The mall employee picked it up. Why?” Billie Dee set her gear down, grabbed an insulated water bottle from the workbench, and downed several mouthfuls.
“Who?” Nick asked.
Billie Dee shrugged.
“Did they pay for it with a card?” Michelle jotted notes in her work tablet.
“No. I billed the mall. But I can check the signature.”
“That would be helpful.” Michelle followed her into the office. Inside a room smaller than her closet and just as cluttered, Nick squeezed in behind her. His arm brushed her back, and she fought the urge to flinch. The warmth of his body had her mind journeying back to a time when she would have leaned back into him to soak in his heat. Not today.
“This may take a few minutes.” Billie Dee circled her finger over the touchpad on the laptop. A second later, she was tapping keys. Her brows pulled in and she mumbled as she scrolled through files. “Ah. Here it is.”
The printer in the corner chattered. A moment later, it spit out a slip of paper. Billie Dee handed it to Michelle.
“Jonny Staniski.” She turned to Nick.
Nick leaned over her shoulder and squinted at the scribble that was the signature. “If you say so. I will check my seasonal employee list.”
Michelle knew the name. It was on the case file Jim emailed her this morning. She wasn’t about to mention it in front of Billie Dee. She thanked the woman for her assistance, then turned, running directly into a wall of muscle. Nick .
His eyes bore into hers. Crap, she knew that look. The assessing look. The same one most cops used when they sensed a person was covering something up. Twenty years, and he could still read her like a stinkin’ book.
She stared at him, then cut her gaze to the door. He must have got the hint, because he stepped back. Michele held her breath until they were in the parking lot.
Nick hustled past her and leaned on her driver’s door. “Spill.”
“This is police business.”
He didn’t speak, just crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
Two could play at that game. Michelle mimicked his pose and stared at his freakishly long lashes as they collected snowflakes. One… Two… Three… Any minute now. She tapped her toe. He’d crack any minute.
A chill zipped across her neck. Dang, it’s cold out here. “Fine, but only because you want the case closed as much as I do.”
He didn’t move.
“Jonny is the one who was in the sleigh.”
He lowered his brows. “The dead guy?”
“Yeah.”
Silence. No swearing, kicking the snow, or grabbing his hair, but she knew he was feeling those frustrations. She watched Nick’s face carefully. His jaw muscle flexed. That single tick spoke volumes.
He looked off into the distance, then back to her. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Go?”
“Yes. We have to solve the homicide so I can get the sleigh back.”
“Oh, is that all?” Michelle threw up her hands. “Really? You think you can just snap your fingers and it will be magically solved?”
“No. But at least we know who took the sleigh.”
“We do, but I have more questions, not answers. ”
He snatched the invoice from her hand. “This says he picked it up last Friday. We will go check the video for the loading dock, but I doubt it came back to the storage area. So, it was in his possession. He was dead in the sleigh. Murdered, if I understand your brother correctly. So, now, we need to keep digging.”
Wow, Nick was definitely not backing down. Michelle slumped against the front fender of the patrol car. She had two options—ban him from the case or accept his help. The first would be like trying to stop a freight train at full speed. And the second would be an emotional barefoot trek over shards of glass.
“We work well together.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. They had. “That was a long time ago.”
“Prove me wrong.” He pushed off the car and leaned in.
Michelle braced for action. Not the kind where she needed her gun, but his.
Well, shit. She needed to get laid… or to charge her personal pleasure device in her bedside drawer.
Nick tapped the date on the paper in her hand. “I’m going to review the video, starting from the day the sleigh was dropped off at Billie Dee’s.”
“Fine, I’ll meet you at your office.”
His lip hitched up as he slid his sunglasses on and climbed into his truck.
A cold December wind slapped her face with tiny prickles of pain, urging her to get moving. She slipped into the SUV, blasted the heat on high, and realized this could be the dumbest thing she’d ever agreed to.
So why was she smiling?