Claus for Celebration Page 9

  “After we just pulled after a major coup and found a new wedding venue in a matter of days?”

  “Good point,” she said. “The bride was pretty thrilled just now when I told her the contract was in the works.”

  Kate had called the bride while I’d pulled the car around. Delivering good news to a client was something we never delayed.

  She took a gulp of coffee. “But Mexico is never a bad option considering our track record.”

  I made a face at her. "Ha ha. We're not running off to Mexico. We're going to swing by the police station."

  Kate took a sip from her to-go cup. "Is this your way of sneaking in some alone time with Reese?"

  "No," I said, reaching for the blueberry lemonade I'd snagged from the Village Cafe, "but we're going to pretend it is."

  "I'm confused."

  "The guy who found Kris's Santa suit may be missing, but the cop who was with him isn't," I said, sipping my drink and puckering my lips at the tartness.

  "So we're going to the police precinct your fiancé works at to see someone other than him?"

  I made a right turn and slowed down as I entered a more residential street. "You got it."

  "And when he catches us questioning a cop connected to the case, our excuse is going to be temporary insanity?"

  "He won't catch us," I said. "He's supposed to be out looking for Kris."

  "And we're supposed to be planning two weddings and an engagement party," Kate muttered.

  I slowed down as we approached the square, two-story brick building that housed the police precinct, swinging my car nose first into a parallel spot on the street. "It's just a few questions. If I ask Reese, he'll think I'm trying to poke around in his case."

  "Aren't you?" Kate took a final sip and placed her coffee back in the center console.

  "Hardly." I opened my car door and stepped up onto the curb. "I'm trying to help him."

  Kate got out and joined me on the sidewalk. "Explain."

  "Kris's friend Jeannie was hiding something. Stanley, the only other witness of any kind, disappeared. If this case isn't what it seems, Reese could be wasting his time. The cop who was with Stanley might have some insight. I mean, he must know something or have some thoughts about why Stanley would have disappeared."

  "So you're trying to prevent your fiancé from spinning his wheels?"

  I pointed a finger at her. "Exactly. He's got his hands full with all the weird holiday-related crimes."

  She nodded thoughtfully as we walked toward the dark glass front of the station. "Not bad. Not totally believable, but I've heard worse. What holiday-related crimes, aside from a singing Santa going missing?"

  "Apparently there was a home invasion in upper Georgetown that went wrong late last night. The guy who was trying to break in ended up tied up with a holiday wreath shoved down around his waist. He was rolling around on the people's front porch when the cops arrived."

  Kate gave a snort of laughter. "So the homeowners fought back? Good for them."

  I pulled open one side of the tinted glass doors. "They insist it wasn't them. Said they heard scuffling and when they opened the door, the guy was struggling to get up, but couldn't because the wreath had his arms pinned down."

  "So someone out there is helping the police catch bad guys? That's a good thing, right?"

  I shrugged as Kate stepped into the building in front of me. "Technically, they aren't supposed to encourage citizens taking the law into their own hands, but I know Reese isn't complaining. He's been talking about crime in Georgetown being on the rise for a while now, as well as his suspicions that it's being run by a group and not just random perpetrators. I think he's grateful for any help in cracking the crime ring."

  Kate hesitated. "You don't think my tire slashing was done by this crime ring, do you?"

  I followed her inside, my shoes tapping on the dingy linoleum as we headed for the reception desk to the right. "From what Reese has told me, they don't do random vandalism."

  "You're right. It has Brianna written all over it." She sucked in a breath, her face brightening. "Maybe Brianna is involved in the crime ring. Maybe she's actually a crime boss."

  I raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't give her that much credit. She can't even plan a wedding properly. How would she run a criminal organization?"

  "You make a good point." Kate winked at me. "That doesn't mean I can't spread the rumor that Brianna has gone from being a Madame to being a crime boss."

  "That should help diffuse the situation," I said under my breath.

  When we reached the faux wood desk, I smiled at the female officer standing behind it. My eyes flicked to the battered desks that extended behind the counter and the closed office doors at the far end. I saw a weathered coffee pot on a small table to one side with a trash can next to it filled to the rim with discarded sugar packets and plastic creamer pods. The building held the distinct scent of stale coffee and cigarette smoke, even though I knew you couldn't smoke inside.

  "I'm Annabelle Archer," I said, keeping my smile wide as the woman leveled her gaze at me.

  "She's engaged to Mike Reese," Kate added, leaning on the desk and flashing the woman, and the entire office, her cleavage. "Detective Mike Reese."

  The female cop glanced at me, gave me the once-over, and nodded. "He's not here."

  "Shoot," I said, trying to sound disappointed. "By any chance is Officer Rogers available?"

  "Rookie Rogers?" She looked over her shoulder. "Hey, Rogers. You available?"

  A cop with wispy, sandy-brown hair and a round, baby face rose from a desk in the back. He walked forward, his look of confusion turning into a smile as he got closer and no doubt got a better look at Kate. The female cop rolled her eyes and stepped away.

  "How can I help you, ladies?" he asked, his attention on Kate.

  I darted a quick look to my assistant. After working together for so many years, I liked to think we had an unspoken shorthand.

  She blinked at me. "What?"

  Stifling a groan, I widened my own eyes, which I cut in the direction of the cop.

  "Ah." Understanding crossed her face, and she nodded her head almost imperceptibly before bestowing one of her most alluring smiles on the young cop. "Aren't you the one who found the Santa suit?"

  His own smile dimmed a bit. "How did you know that?"

  Kate jerked a thumb at me. "She's engaged to Mike Reese."

  "Oh." He sounded relieved as he looked quickly at me then back at Kate and her low-cut top. "Yep. That was me."

  "It must have been shocking,” Kate leaned closer, “to find a bloody Santa suit like that."

  "Actually, I didn't find it. I came up on the homeless guy as he was pulling it out of the dumpster. As soon as I realized what it was, I took control of the evidence and called it in."

  "I'll bet you took control," Kate said, winking at him.

  The rookie cop's cheeks flushed pink, and I hoped he wouldn't pass out before we could finish questioning him. This was one drawback to using Kate's charms to extract information.

  "What happened to the homeless guy?" I asked.

  Officer Rogers pulled his gaze away from Kate and thought for a second. "Stanley? I took his statement, but he didn't have much to say. He saw the suit hanging out of the dumpster and pulled it out."

  "Did he seem nervous or upset?"

  "Both, I guess, but that wasn't a surprise since Stanley has some mental issues and he knew the victim," Rogers said, smoothing his thinning hair to one side.

  "Victim?" Kate tilted her head at him. "How do you know Kris is dead if you only found the suit?"

  Rogers shrugged. "I don't, but there was a lot of blood. No one loses that much blood and survives."

  "Shouldn't there be a body?" I asked.

  "Lots of things could have happened to the body." His voice took on a more authoritative tone. "It could have been thrown in the river or driven out of the city, or maybe we just haven't found it yet."

  All of this was
true, so why did I have such a hard time believing Kris was dead? Was it because I didn't want to believe it despite all hard evidence to the contrary? I nodded, but I wasn't convinced.

  "Why?" Rogers asked. "Does Reese think the Santa is still alive?"

  The officer's question jerked me out of my thoughts. "What? No, I didn't say that."

  He exhaled, rubbing two fingers down the bridge of his nose. "I know a lot of folks in Georgetown liked the guy, but sometimes living on the streets can be dangerous. And the homeless community isn’t always so friendly to each other."

  That wasn’t what Jeannie had told us, but then again, she wouldn’t want to make her community look bad by saying they didn’t get along.

  Kate flipped her hair off her face. “In what way?”

  Rogers puffed his chest out a bit. “They fight over stuff and the best spots. Just like any group of people.”

  "Do you know a lot of the homeless people in Georgetown?" I asked.

  He nodded. "It's my beat, so I know most of them by name."

  "So you knew Kris personally?"

  Another nod. "He was a good guy. Never bothered people. Always stopped to talk to me." He dropped his eyes. "I'll miss the fella."

  "And you don't have any leads on what might have happened?" Kate asked, her now voice less coquettish.

  "Living on the streets isn't good for your health, but I got the feeling that Stanley either knew more than he wanted to say or that he was involved."

  “You think Stanley might have killed him?” My voice rose and I saw a cop glance over, so I lowered it quickly. “I thought they were buddies.”

  “Most homicides happen between friends and family,” he said. “Anyone who draws attention to themselves like Kris did was bound to have haters. They could have gotten into an argument that got out of hand. Who knows? We’d also gotten complaints from some of the bell ringers in Georgetown. They thought he was poaching their donations.”

  “But he didn’t take money,” I said.

  Rogers raised his palms. “I know. They still complained. But I’m just guessing about all this. Kris might have just been at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Kate tugged on my arm and inclined her head to the back of the room. "Speaking of being in the wrong place."

  Crap. My fiancé had emerged from one of the back offices. So much for him being out. I ducked down and pretended to tie my shoes, even though they had no laces.

  "Thanks for talking with us," Kate said above me, her voice low. "We can keep this visit just between us, right? I'll bet a good-looking guy like you knows how to keep a girl's secret."

  I could only imagine the looks she was giving him to make him agree so enthusiastically.

  "Gotta run," Kate said, hunching over and pulling me with her as she blew a kiss over her shoulder. "I'll call you."

  I didn't look back until we were outside and halfway to my car. "Do you think Reese saw us?"

  "He's not out here scolding us, is he?" Kate asked, not slowing down until we'd reached the car.

  We jumped inside, and I quickly pulled away from the curb, not breathing easily until the police station was in my rearview mirror. "Well, that was interesting."

  Kate reached for her coffee. "If you say so."

  "Officer Rogers seemed convinced that Kris is dead, but Jeannie seems to think he isn't." I took a long sip of my blueberry lemonade. "Obviously, one of them is wrong."

  Kate kicked off her heels and stretched out her legs. "And even more obviously, you want to find out which one."

  Chapter 17

  I jumped when my phone trilled in my purse. Please don't be Reese, I thought, as I pulled it out. I was not ready to explain why Kate and I had been sneaking out of the police station, especially after I'd promised to stay out of his case.

  Kate snapped her head to me. "You don't think that's him, do you? Driving to Mexico is still on the table, you know."

  Pulling the phone from my purse, I glanced at the screen and let out a loud sigh. Not Reese. "We don't have to make a run for the border. It's Richard."

  "I'm not sure if that's much better. Let's not take Mexico off the table just yet."

  I answered, trying to sound as cheery--and innocent--as possible.

  "Would you care to explain why all my caterer friends are getting requests for a sizable proposal for New Year's Eve, and I'm not?" Richard asked, before I'd finished saying hello.

  My car's Bluetooth was acting up, so I held the phone against my ear with one shoulder while I drove. Not the safest thing, but safer than ignoring Richard's call. "Because the proposal request is coming from Brianna, and you're guilty by association."

  "Not the worst association I've been a part of," Richard said with a sniff.

  Kate and I had left the police station and were almost back in Georgetown, with my assistant scrolling through emails at a blinding pace, as I navigated the traffic down Constitution Avenue.

  "Tell him he'd be better off working with us on New Year's Eve," Kate said. "Brianna is crazy."

  "Did you hear that?" I asked Richard, pumping the brakes as a traffic light turned red and the BMW in front of me gunned it through.

  "Of course she's crazy," Richard said. "She's one of those bottle blondes from the South who's sniffed too much bleach and bourbon, but she's the kind of crazy who has daddy's money to back her up. Do you know what she's asking for in these proposals?"

  "No," I admitted, although I couldn’t help being impressed by how quickly the woman had sent out feelers.

  "Lobster, King crab legs, caviar, the works. She even wants her after midnight snacks to be Kobe beef sliders."

  So it really would be a party the wedding industry would be talking about for years. "Like you said, she's got her daddy's money to pay for it."

  Richard let out a deep sigh. "It's too bad I'm past the point of hitching my cart to a sugar daddy."

  "And get rid of PJ?" I said. "No way. Not after we finally met him. Trust me, a sugar daddy is not the answer."

  "Depends on the question." Kate glanced over at me. "Is this still about Brianna?"

  I nodded slowly, without dropping the phone. "She's sparing no expense for her party."

  Kate shrugged. "But who's going? All of our crew will be with us, and I know some other planners who have events, not to mention all the hotels. The only people who will be available to attend are the ones without a party on the biggest party night of the year."

  "Which is usually us," I reminded her, since we rarely took weddings over the stretch between Christmas and New Year's Day. "And weren't you just complaining about working too much over the holidays?"

  Kate winked at me. "A girl can change her mind, can't she?"

  "Kate has a point," Richard said. "New Year's Eve is not the night to snag all the event people. She should have picked a random Thursday, like everyone else does."

  Because our industry work week focused on the weekend, all of our networking events were held on weeknights. And if a wedding planner wanted to host a social event, they never picked a Friday or Saturday. Those dates were for people who worked regular nine-to-five jobs.

  "If she'd picked a different night, she wouldn't have gotten to screw over our new client and her former bride," I said. "And perhaps more importantly, she wouldn't have gotten to screw over us."

  "I hope she and her five guests have fun," Kate said under her breath.

  I slowed down as I merged onto M Street and headed into Georgetown proper. "We're almost at my apartment. Can I call you later?"

  "We still need to discuss the menu for our New Year's Eve event, Annabelle, although I don't suppose I need to worry about Brianna snatching up all the King crab legs?"

  "No," I told him. "Crab has not come up with the bride, nor have Kobe beef sliders. Sorry."

  "Tell him if he plays his card right, we might be able to swing a dessert station," Kate said.

  "Be still, my beating heart," Richard drawled, obviously hearing Kate's snarky comment. "I'
ll alert the pastry chef to start pumping out annoyingly tiny tartlets."

  The line went dead, and I slid the phone down to my lap.

  "I take it the industry is already buzzing about Brianna's party?" Kate asked.

  "Apparently. I have to give the woman credit, she always seems to land on her feet."

  "It's easier when you're landing on piles of cash," Kate said.

  She had a point. Brianna did seem to keep herself afloat, not from good press she earned but from PR she bought.

  "Hey." Kate nudged me. "Is that who I think it is?"

  I followed her line of sight and her outstretched finger. There--walking along the sidewalk of M Street--was a Santa Claus who appeared to be singing. I rolled down my window and slowed the car. Yep. That was definitely "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" I heard wafting through the air.

  I fumbled for my phone. "I should call Reese and tell him we found Kris Kringle Jingle."

  "I can't believe he's strolling down the sidewalk like nothing happened." Kate shook her head. "And where did he get a new suit?"

  Although we could only see the back of the Santa, we could hear him pretty clearly as he belted out the last few bars of the song. "It's December. Santa costumes can't be too hard to find, although he looks a lot skinnier from the back than I remember."

  When Santa took a breath and started singing "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer," Kate and I turned to each other.

  "That's not Kris," she said.

  I agreed with her, wishing I could get through the traffic and get a good look at the front of this imposter Santa. "Who else would walk around Georgetown singing in a Santa costume?"

  "Maybe one of the Salvation Army bell ringers decided to poach the gig now that Kris has disappeared."

  "That doesn't seem very Christmassy," I said. "Then again, neither does 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.'"

  "And it's going to be stuck in my head for the rest of the day," Kate grumbled, grabbing the door handle. "Slow down. I'm getting out."