'Twas the Chihuahua Before Christmas by Esri Allbritten

Author:Esri Allbritten
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: mystery, short, colorado, chihuahuas, free, christmas, holiday, dogs
Publisher: Esri Allbritten

“At four o’clock on Christmas Eve? I don’t think so.” She looked down at the beard in her hand. “We can probably use Elmers glue. If it ruins it, I’ll buy Phil another beard.”

Ivan shook his head. “No glue.”

“Elmers is nothing like spirit glue,” Charlotte argued. “It’s just water and…something. Horse’s hooves, maybe.”

Ivan shook his head more emphatically. “No glue. It will kill me.”

“But, Ivan–”

Ivan crossed his arms. “You can have Santa Claus or you can have glue. Not both.”

Charlotte raised her hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll cut a beard shape out of the same fake fur I use for the cuffs, and we’ll hang it from your ears with coat-hanger wire.” She handed him the Santa hat. “See if you can get your hair to stay up under this.”

Charlotte put on her coat and headed outside to the workshop. The bread crusts were gone, although the snow was trampled as if by an animal rather than birds. Squirrels, probably.

The keys were cold in her ungloved hands. She unlocked the workshop door, switched on the lights, and froze.

A smear of bloody-looking liquid ran across the linoleum floor.

“What on earth?”

As if in answer to her question, a shrill noise came from the corner of the room with the catalog boxes – something between a shriek and a moan.

Charlotte backed out of the workroom and ran to the house. “Ivan!” she shouted. “Ivan, come quick!”

Ivan opened the back door before she reached it. The Santa hat was pulled down low on his forehead, and strands of black hair stuck out from one side. “What is it?”

“There’s some kind of animal in the workroom,” Charlotte panted. “Lila barked at some boxes earlier and I figured there was a mouse behind them, but now there’s this bloody stuff, and it’s too much for a mouse. Maybe it’s a rat.” She shuddered and tugged at his red belt. “Come on. I’m not going in there by myself.”

Ivan pulled away and opened a kitchen drawer.

“What are you doing?”

He took out a cleaver and hefted it in his hand. “We don’t want it to suffer.”

Charlotte stayed behind Ivan as he stalked across the frozen yard in his knee-high boots and makeshift Santa outfit, the cleaver dangling from one hand. She had left the workshop door open, and the squealing sound came again as they neared it. “Oh, God, what is it?” she whimpered.

Ivan lifted the cleaver and stepped inside. He studied the mess on the floor for a moment. “Where are these boxes Lila barked at?” he asked quietly.

Charlotte pointed.

Ivan walked stealthily over, the cleaver raised. Then he put his booted foot against the bottom box and slowly pushed it to one side.

Charlotte remained outside, peering around the door frame. She expected a furry form to either run out or thrash around on the floor, fatally injured. But the only thing she saw was a ragged hole in the drywall. “It must be a rat,” she said, shuddering again.

“Do you have a light?” Ivan asked, bending to peer in the hole.

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