Random Acts of Scrooge: a Christmas novella (Holly Anna Paladin Book 4) Page 3

  Just then my phone rang, and I saw that it was Chase. I excused myself to answer.

  “Holly, I’m heading over to Circle Express on Eighth Street. An employee thinks our guy might be there.”

  My pulse spiked. “I’ll meet you.”

  “Don’t approach him until I get there. Not even then, for that matter. You promise?”

  “Of course. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “Holly . . .”

  I twisted my lips in a frown. “I promise. If for no other reason than I’d hate to make Santa’s naughty list.”

  Chapter 4

  Chase beat me to the Circle Express. By the time I pulled up, he was already outside and talking to a man wearing a Reds cap. I observed them for a moment while I sat in my warm 64 ½ powder-blue classic Mustang. Chase, wearing a grey sweater with a thick collar and black pants, didn’t seem too on edge as he talked to the man.

  I observed the suspect carefully. It could be him, I supposed. He was about the same height and build. Something about the way he carried himself seemed different from the man in the video, though. He almost seemed more cultured or confident.

  I climbed out and joined them in front of the store, just in time to hear part of their conversation.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just came in here planning to buy some milk and cookies.” The man frowned. “Well, I only planned on buying the milk. I was going to eat the cookies before I got home and my wife saw them.”

  “A man matching your description has been stealing donation jars around town,” Chase said.

  The man pointed to himself and laughed. “You think I’m going to steal someone’s charity? I may not be the wealthiest man in the city, but I am an engineer. I make more than enough money, and I don’t need to steal anyone else’s cash. Especially not at Christmas.”

  Chase glanced up and nodded at me, an unspoken conversation happening in that brief moment. We both understood that this wasn’t our man. He was innocent. This man was dressed nicely. There was only one other car in the parking lot and it was an Acura—not the cheapest brand. And it was well-maintained.

  I just couldn’t picture this man as the culprit.

  “Can I go now?” The man didn’t sigh audibly, but I could hear the urge in his voice.

  Chase nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

  As the man climbed into his vehicle, Chase and I remained outside. Brisk winter air assaulted any exposed skin, making me second-guess the cute forest-green dress with the wide black belt. Forecasters said we might have snow flurries this weekend.

  “Looks like that lead was a bust,” Chase said.

  “I can see why the clerk thought it might be him. He fits the description.”

  “I wish we had a better visual on the man. But we have to work with what we have.” We walked slowly, almost hesitantly, toward my car. Were we stretching the conversation out? Trying to delay the inevitable task of returning to life in favor of stealing a few more minutes together?

  Why, yes, we were.

  “How’s your day going?” Chase asked.

  “I just finished meeting with Greg and Babette. I also put a small army to work, making goodies for the bake sale and downtown bazaar tomorrow. Do you think you’ll be able to stop by?”

  “I intend on trying, unless I get pulled away on a big case. I think it’s best if we pursue raising more money to make up for what was stolen.”

  I nodded, familiar heaviness on my chest. “I know you’re right. But what about justice?”

  “I agree. But the thought I keep coming back to is this: What if the person who stole that money needs it more than Greg and Babette?”

  “You and I both know he’s probably using it for drugs.” I was usually the optimistic one, but I wasn’t naïve either. The odds were that this wasn’t someone desperate for food. More likely it was someone driven by addictions and compulsions.

  “You’re probably right. Desperate people do desperate things. Drugs make people desperate.” He paused by my car door.

  “Besides, I can’t imagine that many people who need the money more than Greg and Babette. Their financial burden would overwhelm anyone.” My heart felt heavy every time I remembered what they were going through. Life and heartaches seemed to have a proclivity to unabashedly pile on at times.

  “Their situation is that bad, huh?”

  I nodded, remembering my conversation with Babette. “Already over twenty thousand in bills.”

  “Wow.” Chase rubbed his chin and frowned.

  I grabbed my keys and straightened, determination strengthening my resolve. “I will keep focusing on raising money. But I’m not quite ready to let this go, either.”

  “Where are you headed off to now?”

  An idea swirled in the back of my mind, but I wasn’t ready to share it yet. I needed to think it through a little more first. “I’m stopping by the youth center to check on the bake-a-thon there. Then we’ll see what else the day holds.”

  “But no trouble?” He brushed a loop of hair off my shoulder and peered down at me with that warm look in his eyes.

  I smiled, confident that I would play it safe. “No trouble.”

  * * *

  “You’re going to be in so much trouble,” Jamie muttered.

  “We’re just paying a visit to Larry Jenkins,” I explained to Jamie as we cruised down the road. She’d just finished cleaning up at the youth center, and I owed her big time. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Who is Larry Jenkins again?”

  “He’s the man who was in the car accident with Greg and Babette.”

  “Yes, yes . . . of course. And you think he stole the money from Greg and Babette?”

  I shrugged, realizing it sounded far-fetched. “I have no idea. I’m collecting information—then I’ll draw conclusions.”

  “Does Chase know you’re doing this?”

  I frowned as I made my way through the stop-and-go traffic on the overcast day. When I’d left Chase, I was still chewing on the idea of speaking with Larry. I was tempted to go back to the office, but I couldn’t go on with life as usual. That wasn’t my style.

  “I wasn’t 100 percent sure I was doing this last time we spoke, so no, he doesn’t. But he’s busy with other things. Like work.”

  “Speaking of which, aren’t you supposed to be working?”

  “Ralph gave me the day off to help organize this bake sale. It’s a win-win for him. We help a needy family, and Ralph’s staff shows they care about the constituents in the area.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you. It sounds all fakey-fake.”

  “We do care. I care.” I shook my head, my grip tightening on the wheel. “Politics are complicated. To say appearances aren’t important would be a lie. It’s a delicate balance. If I can get people to try out volunteering, I’m convinced they’ll become addicted and want to do more of it. It’s contagious like that.”

  “Okay, I get where you’re coming from. Now, tell me about this Larry guy.”

  I leaned back, trying to relax. It was useless. I was entirely too wound up. “Let’s see. He’s in construction. They’re working on building a new apartment complex out in Western Hills.”

  “How’d you find that out?”

  “It was pretty easy. I did an Internet search for Larry, found his profile on social media, and saw what company he worked for. People put everything out there on the Internet for all the world to see. They practically let you know when they go the bathroom. Manners today have gone down the . . . toilet.” I swallowed hard at my unintentional word choice.

  “Holly, focus here.”

  “Right, right. Anyway, then I called the company and asked to speak with Larry. The kind woman who answered told me he was working on a building project near the movie theater in Western Hills.”

  Jamie took a small bottle from her purse and dabbed something peppermint-scented behind her ears. “Essential oil. I feel a cold coming on, and peppermint helps me every
time. Anyway, it sounds like you did some good work investigating.”

  “I had no idea how far I would get. I still don’t know, for that matter. This Larry guy could shut up and not say anything. He could be innocent in all of this. Who knows unless we ask questions.”

  “Asking questions has put us in a bind before, or have you forgotten?”

  “I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about—”

  “Let me refresh your memory. There was the time you broke into someone’s house and—”

  “Never mind.” I stopped her before her tabulation became longer than Santa’s list of Christmas Eve stops. “Yes, I do remember. Speaking of which, what do you say we break into someone’s home and decorate for Christmas?”

  Jamie groaned beside me. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  I flashed a devious smile. “Not really. I mean, I would like to ambush the family by showing up with Christmas decorations. But there will be no breaking in involved.”

  “I guess that could be fun. A great way to spread some holiday cheer. I can’t believe I’m saying that.”

  “Excellent. I’m going to see if I can find someone to donate the tree. I’ll keep trying to organize the details.” I pulled up to a construction site where a four-story apartment complex would be going in and parked in the paved lot beside it. Several workers were gathered in the distance, looking at something in the center of their huddle. If I had to guess, it was between construction plans or a cute cat video.

  “Here goes nothing,” Jamie muttered.

  We climbed out, and I straightened my dress as we approached the men. My eyes scanned each of them. I’d seen pictures of Larry online, and I knew he was in his early thirties. I couldn’t tell that much else about him based on his headshot, though. It was especially challenging to identify him since all the men wore hard hats, tool belts, and safety vests.

  The huddle dispersed before we reached them, but one man lingered behind. He was the older one of the bunch, which led me to believe he was in charge.

  “Can I help you ladies?” His voice sounded gruff and uninterested. He lowered his clipboard to his side, and his eyes narrowed as he studied us.

  “We’re looking for Larry Jenkins. We heard he could be here,” I said.

  His shaggy eyebrows shot in the air. “Larry? Yeah, he’s here.”

  “Could I ask you a couple of questions about Larry?” I rushed. “It’s for a . . . surprise.”

  He paused, his hands going to his hips and his eyes narrowing even farther. “Yeah, I guess. What do you need?”

  “We heard he was in a car accident a while ago,” I quickly said. “How’s he doing?”

  The man shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I don’t know.”

  “We heard it was serious and he had to miss quite a bit of work. I guess it’s a good thing he had the money to hire lawyers for that civil suit he has coming up.”

  “Money?” The man snorted. “Well, I don’t know where he got it. Not by working here. Although he did buy a new flat-screen TV a few days ago. Hearing him talk about it, it was pretty nice. Fifty-two-inch, HD. Had some other pretty sweet features. Maybe he’s got a sugar mama.” He snorted again.

  I glanced at Jamie. “Really? You said he just got it? That’s interesting.”

  “Who are you guys, anyway?”

  I swallowed hard, trying not to look as uncomfortable as I felt. “We’re organizing a fundraiser for . . . people down on their luck this holiday season. A friend of a friend told us about Larry, and we wondered if he was a candidate. I imagine his legal bills have cleaned out his checking account.”

  “Fundraiser? Really? Well, I suppose if there’s ever a time to be generous, it’s Christmas. I just didn’t expect two sugar-plum fairies to show up.” He laughed at himself again, but the sound ended in a coughing fit.

  I forced a polite smile.

  “Well, I hope he does get some help,” the man sobered. “He’s had a bad run of luck lately, and if he has much more time off work, he may not have a job.”

  “I see.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Speaking of the devil, here he comes.”

  I glanced up. Sure enough, it was Larry from social media. Only, in real life, Larry was rather tall and thin. He also carried himself like someone who was up to no good.

  Could Larry be stealing money from Greg and Babette?

  Maybe I’d just found our man.

  Chapter 5

  “Larry, it’s your lucky day,” Boss Man said. “You’ve got Cindy Lou Who and Cindy Lou Two here to see you.”

  I cast the wannabe comedian a dirty look.

  Larry eyed us. “Cindy Lou Who and Two, huh?”

  I shuddered again. There was something about this man that seemed off, that made me feel a little scared. Maybe it was his shifty gaze or the way his shoulders hunched. I wasn’t sure.

  “Apparently they want to give you money.” Mr. Hack-Up-a-Lung’s words trailed off as he walked away.

  Good riddance.

  I shifted uncomfortably again before flashing a smile at Larry that I hoped made me look trustworthy. Maybe it was because the Boss Man had planted the idea in my head, but I couldn’t help but think that Larry looked a little like the Grinch. He had beady eyes, a disappearing chin, and a stubby little nose.

  “You must be Larry,” I started.

  “And you are?”

  “I like to call myself Holly Jolly Christmas.” I cringed when I heard myself. Maybe I should have stuck with Cindy Lou Who.

  He looked at Jamie. “And you?”

  “Joyful Jamie.” As soon as the words left her lips, she frowned, standing in stark contrast to her name.

  Doubt flashed in Larry’s eyes. “And what kind of money is this that you guys want to give me?”

  “We’re a part of the Christmas Benevolence Fund. We look for people who are down on their luck, and we try to offer them a Christmas wish,” I said.

  “And you heard about me how?”

  “Through a friend of a friend—who wishes to remain anonymous.”

  “Is that right?” He cocked an arm up on his hip. “This ‘friend’ thinks I’m down on my luck?”

  Something about his words chilled me. I had to continue with my cover, though. “It’s Christmas. That’s no time for auto accidents and medical bills and lawsuits.”

  “Isn’t that interesting. So you came all the way out here to find me. That’s an awful lot of trouble. Certainly there are other people more worthy of your attention. Who sponsors this Christmas fund?”

  “Anonymous donors,” I quickly told him.

  “Uh huh.” He crossed his arms. “What do you want to do for me?”

  “Well, first we wanted to find out if you had any needs. We have to screen people before granting wishes.”

  A glimmer of hunger—a lust for more—glistened in his eyes. “Sure. I always have needs. I need a new job since my back hurts from the accident. Can you help with that? My boss has been giving me a hard time. Just because I’ve had two accidents in a year doesn’t mean they’re my fault.”

  “Jobs are a little harder to come by than financial donations,” I told him.

  “But maybe you could benefit from some driving lessons,” Jamie quipped.

  As Larry narrowed his eyes, I shot Jamie a warning glance. She didn’t like the man. Neither did I, for that matter. But I still needed more information.

  “You’re not really from a Christmas fund, are you? You’re here to find out information on me. Who are you really working for? The insurance company? Or maybe those Sullivans managed to scrounge up money for a lawyer and you work for them?”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting defensive. Usually only people who are guilty get defensive,” I quipped.

  “You better watch your tone,” he growled. “I’m not letting no little girl get the best of me. I tried to settle this out of court, but those Sullivans claimed they couldn’t do it. Said they didn’t have any money.”

>   I raised my hand, realizing our time here was done. But he wasn’t going to get the best of me, either. “I can see you’re not a good candidate for the fund, but maybe you are a good candidate for manners school.”

  “Manners school?” Venom dripped from his words.

  I raised my chin, refusing to break eye contact.

  Finally he burst into laughter. “That’s just about the funniest thing I’ve heard all month. Manners school. Maybe I can go to charm school after that. At the end I can be a debutante? My mom would be so proud.”

  He laughed harder.

  Jamie and I used that as an excuse to mosey back to my car. He was still laughing—maniacally, I might add—when we pulled away.

  “That was weird.” Jamie shivered and rubbed her arms.

  “You can say that again. He was creepy. Weird creepy. Like, I don’t know if something’s seriously wrong with him or if he’s just got a twisted sense of humor.” I paused. “But he fits the description, Jamie.”

  “A lot of people around here do,” she reminded me.

  “I know. But what if he’s the one who’s been stealing the money? I mean, he has a personal reason to target the family. If he thinks the accident was their fault, then maybe he resents money being raised for them. Maybe he thinks the money is rightfully his.”

  “I don’t put many things past people.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “I’m not ruling him out. Maybe he’s vindictive and wants to hurt them.”

  “You never know.” Jamie sighed. “What next, Holly Jolly Christmas? Or maybe I like Cindy Lou Who better. It kind of fits you.”

  I shook my head again. “I have no idea, Joyful Jamie. We’ll do the bazaar tomorrow and hopefully raise enough money to help the Sullivans out. They need twenty thousand dollars, though. I was hoping to make maybe a thousand. In the big picture, it doesn’t seem like that much.”

  “I’m sure every bit will help.”

  I nodded. “I know. Speaking of which, I need to go to the youth center and make sure everything is packaged up and ready to go. I’ve got a lot of work to get done.”