Mrs. Claus and the Santaland Slayings by Liz Ireland

Author:Liz Ireland [Ireland, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781496726605
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2020-07-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

It was impossible to insinuate the snow monster hunt and Chris’s death into conversations with my in-laws. If Nick wouldn’t talk to me about Chris’s death, I doubted anyone else would open up to me, either. So I spent a day inserting snow monster questions into my interactions with various elves around the castle. Most of them thought I was as mad as Tiffany and sidled away from the subject, and me, as hurriedly as they politely could.

But with the gardener, Salty, I hit pay dirt.

“If you want to know about tracking snow monsters, there’s only one elf you need to talk to,” he said as he fixed a light on one of the trees in front of the castle. “That’d be Boots.”

“Boots?”

“Boots Bayleaf. He was born in the Reaches. He knows all about abominables. He’s led every hunt since I’ve been alive. It’s what everybody says around here: ‘Snow monsters? Ask Boots.’ ”

“Does he live in the Reaches now?” I asked.

Salty tugged his ear. “I don’t know where he lives, exactly. He just shows up during troubles. He knows all about snow monsters, bears, snow leopards. That kind of thing. I’m sure he has a cottage somewhere, but I don’t know where. I don’t know who would—except Santa, of course. Your husband would know.”

I couldn’t ask him, though. He’d see through me at once, no matter how subtly I dropped Boots Bayleaf’s name into conversation.

But I bet someone else in the castle knew how to locate the snow monster hunter.

I found Jingles in his lair, the butler’s pantry, polishing silver. Most people in charge of a castle of staff would have hated this menial chore, but to Jingles, hiding himself away to rub valuable tableware to a sparkling shine was akin to meditation. Fat headphones covered his ears and he was rocking back and forth with a vigor that made me suspect he was not listening to Perry Como.

I tapped on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

The earphones were whipped off, a pulsing sound screeching out from the headphones before he managed to jab his finger at his smartphone screen and turn off the music.

I raised a brow at the headphones. “Cheery holiday tunes? ”

You’d have thought I’d caught him doing something disgraceful. “I’m not a subversive.”

I got it. “Everybody needs to flush the sugary residue of Christmastown out of their system occasionally,” I guessed. It didn’t seem very elf-like to listen to death metal, but then I remembered what Punch had told me about Jingles’ mixed heritage.

He assumed his usual proud stance. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

I entered the narrow space—it was more of a deep closet than an actual room—and closed the door. “I need to find someone named Boots Bayleaf.”

He nearly dropped the gravy boat he’d been polishing. In the blink of an eye, his manner turned apprehensive. “What do you want with him?” He gulped. “Has there been a sighting?”

“No, but he led the snow monster hunt last summer.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.