Time Off for Good Behavior (23 page)

“
You
’
re welcome,
”
I said, shrugging.
“
I don
’
t suppose you can return the favor and tell me why I
’
m hearing strands of phantom music?
”

She stared at me for a moment.
“
Do something for me,
”
she said, picking up her coffee mug and putting it in the sink.
“
If I get this radio gig, don
’
t call in with that shit, okay?
”

I smiled. Things with New Elizabeth were going to be just fine.

***

Of all the sticky notes on my wall,
Get a job
was going
to be the easiest to take care of. I stuffed it in the pocket of my jacket and got in my car to nab myself a free mocha and a face-to-face with Joe Bones. My biggest problem was trying to figure out a way to ask him if his job offer was still good without
admitting that he
’
d been right and that lazing around like a damn dog had, in fact, been bad for me.

As it turned out, that little problem resolved itself.
“
Wanda!
”
Shelley, all round with baby and glowing, waddled out from behind the counter when she saw
me coming in from the coffee shop. Shelley was one of those people who loved being pregnant. Me, just looking at a pregnant woman made my back ache. I
’
ll be buying little girls from China, thanks.

“
Bones told me you came by last week. Sorry I missed you.
”

Shelley grabbed me and pulled me into a hug. I wasn
’
t typically a huggy person, but I knew better than to argue with anyone in Bones
’
s genetic line.

“
Me, too,
”
I said, lifting my mocha in salute.
“
I see you
’
re knocked up again.
”

She rolled her eyes.
“
You b
een hanging out with Bones too much.
”

I grinned.
“
Where is the old goat, anyway? I need to talk to him.
”

“
He
’
s out visiting Dr. Macon, checking on the new hip.
”

“
He okay?
”
I asked.

“
Oh, please,
”
she said, shaking her head and laughing.
“
I
’
m more worried ab
out Doc Macon.
”

I laughed with her.
“
Yeah, I can see that. Mind if I wander around a bit till he gets in?
”

“
Fine by me, long as you buy something,
”
she said with a smile, waving me away.

I checked out the self-help books first. Not a single one said anythi
ng about sticky notes. I wove my way through the lit section, running my fingers over the books. A glass case in the middle held the valuable and old titles. A first English edition of
Anna Karenina
caught my eye. I touched the glass and stared at it for a
minute, until the music got my attention. It was Christmas music, and I was fairly sure it was real.

I smiled. The Grand Santa Station.

I first encountered the Station while shooting a spot for Bones last season. It was run by a guy named Charlie Dent, on
e of Bones
’
s old war buddies. Even with my two-sizes-too-small heart, I had to admit Charlie had a rocking setup. There was a puppet show every hour on the hour, and a wooden train gave kids rides around the perimeter, dragged by elf-costumed college kids
who couldn
’
t get a better job for Christmas break.

Charlie was the perfect Santa, with his natural white beard and unnatural patience. Hell, he
’
d even put up with me when I sat on his lap last year and asked him for a dead ex-husband for Christmas. He
’
d la
ughed and said he
’
d do what he could for me. I liked Charlie. It would be good to see him again.

I turned a corner and stopped short. No train. No puppets. One little girl and her mother. One elf, a teenage kid dressed in a green tunic that was three sizes
too big for her, snapping pictures on a cheap Polaroid. The Santa was not Charlie, but some younger, fatter, and balder guy who was gripping his Santa hat in his hand as he growled at the little girl.

“
Come
’
ere, kid,
”
he said. The little girl tightened h
er grip on her mother
’
s leg. I wasn
’
t clos
e enough to tell for sure, but it appeared that Santa
’
d been bathing in the hooch.

Santa rolled his eyes and stamped his f
oot.
“
I don
’
t got all day, kid. Come
’
ere, tell me what you want, and then you can go running to Mommy.
”

Excuse me?
I crossed my arms and watched, hoping the mother would open up a can of whoop-ass on this guy. The mother flushed with anger, but the little
girl was already walking over to Santa, so no whoop-ass. Instead, the mother paid the elf for the crappy Polaroid shot and ushered her daughter away. Hooch Claus jerked his chin at me with a tobacco-stained smile.
“
You wanna sit on Santa
’
s lap, little gir
l?
”

“
Bite me, asshole,
”
I said, then turned on my heel and went up to the front counter.

“
Um, Shelley?
”
I called, waving her over to the end of the counter, away from the other customers. She waddled on over.
“
What
’
s the deal with Santa?
”

She rolled her ey
es.
“
I know. I
’
m just waiting for Bones to get back to throw his sorry ass out.
”
She put a protective hand on her stomach.

“
Who is that guy?
”
I asked.
“
Where
’
s Charlie?
”

Her face darkened.
“
Charlie died last June. Didn
’
t Bones tell you?
”

I shook my head, b
ut I wasn
’
t surprised. Santa was dead. It seemed an appropriate comment on a generally sucky year.

Shelley crossed her arms and glared in the direction of the Grand Santa Station.
“
Lyle is Charlie
’
s nephew and only living relative. He got everything, inclu
ding the Station.
”

“
Well, he has to go,
”
I said.
“
He
’
s scaring the kids.
”

Shelley nodded.
“
I know. The Station just opened up today, and by the time I got the chance to check things out, Bones was gone, and it
’
s for damn sure I
’
m not pu
tting my pregnant ass within ten feet of that man.
”

“
Wait a minute.
”
I looked at the calendar on the wall behind her.
“
Doesn
’
t that stuff usually start after Thanksgiving?
”

She shrugged and rolled her eyes.
“
Lyle came in this morning determined to start it
up. I
’
m guessing he
’
s hard up for cash. Even cheap whiskey is hard to afford when you
’
re a
loser
!
”

She shouted the
“
loser
”
part in Lyle
’
s general direction. Nothing came back.

“
Lyle owns the Station now?
”

Shelley nodded.
“
Yeah. We don
’
t owe him the space
or anything, so I guess we
’
ll either buy him out or give him everything and send him on his way.
”

Hmm.
I cocked my head to the side as some creaky gears began to churn.
“
How much do you think it
’
s worth?
”

Shelley eyed me for a second.
“
I can
’
t remember exa
ctly,
”
she said,
“
but I think it
’
s somewhere in the neighborhood of seven grand.
”

“
Seven grand?
”
I said.
“
For that? Are you kidding me?
”

She shrugged.
“
Well, there are the costumes and the photography equipment for collateral, along with the trains and pup
pet show. Most of that stuff
’
s still in the basement because Lyle
’
s a
lazy bastard
”
Again, with the shouting. Again, no response. She turned her attention back to me.
“
And then there
’
s the earning potential, which actually isn
’
t bad in a good season.
”

I ra
ised an eyebrow at her.
“
Really? How not bad is it?
”
She smiled.
“
Why you asking, Wanda?
”

“
Would you be surprised if I told you I had several thousand dollars burning a hole in my bank account?
”

Shelley laughed.
“
Wanda, nothing you say surprises me. You kn
ow that.
”

I nodded and patted her hand.
“
Wait right here.
”

She shook her head and waved me on.
“
Call me if you need backup.
”

I charged back to the Santa Station and arrived just as a little boy was running away, crying, with his mother following after him.
There were no other children around. I walked up to Lyle and put my hands on either side of his Santa throne, pinning him in.

He grinned up at me.
“
I knew you
’
d be back.
”
His breath was an offensive combination of hot schnapps and day-old pizza, but I did
n
’
t flinch.

“
Listen to me, you pathetic little piece of reindeer shit, I
’
m gonna cut to the chase. I
’
ll give you six thousand dollars right here, right now, if you sign this business over to me and leave immediately.
”

He turned his eyes to slits and looked
at me sideways, jutting his chin up.
“
‘
Sworth seven.
”

“
You
’
re not getting seven. You
’
re getting six. Just think about how many bars you can get thrown out of with that kind of cash.
”

He looked from side to side. I don
’
t know if he was trying to see if any
one was watching, or if he was looking for an escape, but either way, he wasn
’
t getting up until I got what I wanted.

He let out a small belch. I tried not to recoil.
“
You telling me you got six thousand dollars? Right here? Right now?
”

“
If you
’
ve got the
business license, I
’
ve got six thousand dollars. Right here. Right now.
”