Meowy Christmas Mayhem by Molly Fitz

Author:Molly Fitz [Fitz, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Whiskered Mysteries

6

The new Santa—the living one—let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, c’mon, Shirley,” he said with a shake of his head in the store manager’s direction. “Saved my life? That’s dramatic even for you.”

“We have an unidentified body in the back room,” I confirmed with a dead-serious expression on my face. “And he’s dressed as Santa Claus. Just like you.”

“What?” Santa number two squeaked. “She’s not serious.” He turned back toward the store manager—Shirley—with his jaw hanging open.

She nodded. “Unfortunately, she is.”

“Well, I’m outta here.” Santa turned back toward the door and pulled hard with both gloved hands. Luckily, it had been relocked immediately following his arrival.

“Now that you’re here, you can’t leave,” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest and hoping I looked at least somewhat authoritative. “Your name is Andy Crenshaw. Is that right?”

“Yes, and if some psycho is taking out Santa’s impersonators, then I need to get the heck out of Dodge,” he grumbled, but he wasn’t fooling me. Not with this act.

“Well, seeing as you’re already here,” I said with a shrug. “Come with me so I can ask you a few questions. Um, Shirley, do you have a private room where I can speak with Andy?”

“We have rooms for the cats and birds,” she explained with a nervous glance toward Andy. “Oh, and the storage room. But I’m afraid that’s it.”

I shook my head. “Those are all occupied at the moment. Are you sure you don’t have anywhere else?”

She thought for a second, then her face brightened. “The bathroom?” she suggested as if it was the solution to all the problems we faced today. In some ways, perhaps it was.

“That’ll have to do,” I said, charging toward the back of the store without giving it another thought. “C’mon, Andy.”

Shirley pushed him forward, then called after us. “It’s toward the back, just to the left of the storage room door.”

We found it easily enough. Thankfully, it was clean. Unfortunately, it was also rather small and offered no real seating other than the toilet itself.

“I hate human litter boxes,” Octo-Cat sneered. “They’re so unsanitary.”

“You can sit if you want,” I told Andy, ignoring the tabby’s side chatter.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the yellowing wall by the hand dryer. “Yeah, I’d rather not. In fact, I don’t really want to be here at all.”

I mirrored his body language and backed myself up to the closed door. “Sorry about that. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have been let in at all.”

He let out a sarcastic huff, making his feelings about me excessively clear. Couldn’t he see that I was just trying to help? And if he had nothing to hide, then why was he acting like he might?

I stared at him, working hard to keep my expression neutral and open. “Okay, now tell me. If you were hired to play Santa today, why is someone else lying dead in the back dressed as Mr. Claus?”

Andy shook his head and set his gaze toward the tiled floor.

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