Crimes Most Merry and Albright

by Larissa Reinhart

  Nash sighed. "Your birthday."

  A flame shot from my heart to heat my cheeks. Much like the one consuming our tree.

  Gentz snapped his fingers. The two men sprinted at Nash. I shrieked. Nash shoved me behind him. A shot rang out. I backed toward the open doorway, dialing 9-1-1. Ducking, Gentz ran toward the tree. He yanked on an object caught on a limb. Flames ate the top of the tree, lapping toward his hand. Oddjob wrestled with Nash for his gun. Igor circled them, his hands out.

  "Nash, behind you," I shouted.

  Nash had brought a gun to a pepper spray fight and could be killed for his efforts. I had nothing to help but a wheelhouse of action movie training. Stage kung fu was better than nothing. I shoved the phone into my pocket and jumped toward Igor. Landing on one foot, I shot my other leg out. Missed Igor. And fell into Oddjob. He collapsed against Gentz. Gentz stumbled and the necklace, pinched between his two fingers, whipped around. The bullets swung up, smacking his hand and wrist. The bullets sizzled against his skin. He howled, dropped the necklace, and dashed out the door. Oddjob followed, scrambling to help his boss.

  "Maizie, watch out," cried Nash.

  I wheeled around. Grasping the pistol, Nash pulled back, staggering from Igor. I dropped into a squat and swept a leg beneath the man's feet. Igor tripped backward out the door and fell into Gentz, who'd plunged his burned hand into the snow.

  I sprang to slam the door shut and turn the lock. Behind me, I heard a thunderous whoosh. I spun from the door. Surrounded by white smoke, Remi lay on her back, the kitchen fire extinguisher clutched in one hand. I dashed toward her, jumped the tree stand, and caught her up in my arms. "Remi, you scared me."

  "Just knocked me over, is all. That stuff is stronger than it looks," she muttered into my chest.

  "That's not what I meant—never mind." I squeezed her against me. Dogs surrounded us, whining and licking. I heard the door open and shut and glanced over my shoulder.

  "They're gone." Nash grasped the bullet necklace in a gloved hand. "But they didn't get this. They'll be back."

  * * *

  "You came back." I carried Remi to where Nash examined the death necklace. We'd watch the men leave on the security monitors but were still unable to reset the alarms or close the gate. I'd found my phone and Gentz’s gloves on the entry table and finished my call to the police.

  Nash tipped his hat back and I could better see the worry in his eyes. "Something didn't set right with me. I passed their Mercedes on the way to the office. I got to thinking how strange it was for a car like that to be out in this area of Black Pine. Boomer owns all the property on this end of town, so unless they were headed here or the DeerNose factory there was no reason for anyone to be out this way."

  "Thank you." I raised on my toes to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up."

  "I was fixing to spray those men with the fire 'stinguisher," said Remi. "Shoot them straight out the door."

  "That was quick thinking," said Nash. "But I'm glad you used it on the tree instead."

  We turned to examine the tree, looking shriveled under a blanket of white puffy goo. Like someone had gone crazy with the fake snow.

  "That Grinch rooned our tree," muttered Remi.

  "Ruined, but we can save some of the ornaments," I said. "I need to clean up. There's glass everywhere. I don't want you or the Jacks to get hurt."

  The dogs had returned to sniff around the tree, then our legs. The noxious chemical scent mixed with the smoke and burnt pine. I handed Remi to Nash and bent to examine Teeny. "Poor Teeny got a mouthful of bad guy and pepper-sprayed. Her eyes are still red. That's jacked up."

  "He's a mean one, that Grinch." Remi nodded vigorously.

  "We'll take her to the vet. With the alarm system not working, y'all can't stay here." With one arm, Nash had clamped Remi against him — with her swinging like a rag doll — and used his other to hold the hot necklace away from her. "I'll drop you somewhere, too. Take the kid." He jiggled his arm and Remi bounced against him.

  Ignoring his request, I picked up Gentz’s leather glove and snatched the necklace from him. "Drop us? Where are you going?"

  "To find out who those men were and why they want the necklace."

  "You're not going anywhere without me. This all because of the stupid movie I did."

  "Me, too," said Remi. "I want in on this action."

  "No," Nash and I spoke in unison.

  "Y'all are always having fun without me." Still dangling from Nash's arm, she pointed at me. "Anyways, Maizie's supposed to be watchin' me."

  "It's too dangerous," I said. "Look at what those men did. They pepper-sprayed Teeny and would have done the same to you. Daddy's house was almost burned down."

  "The house burning down was mostly your fault." Remi pursed her lips. "I tried to save the tree, and you knocked that man into it."

  "Forget it. I'm putting you both in a hotel," said Nash.

  "What about the Jacks?" Remi wiggled around to climb Nash like a lumberjack up a stout oak. Grasping his shoulder with one hand, she pushed his hat back and narrowed her eyes. Her little brows rose. "The dogs would go bonkers in a hotel. Just like me. We'll get kicked out. On New Year's Eve. The Grinch'll find us and that'll be your fault."

  "Listen, kid. I'll figure out something." Nash hoisted Remi off his trunk, letting her dangle in mid-air. "But you're both staying out of this."

  Remi glanced back at me and I nodded, confirming Remi would most definitely stay out of this hot fan war mess. But I gave Nash my best Julia Pinkerton, Teen Detective "that's what you think" look.

  I wasn't spending New Year's Eve without him. Or that necklace.

  Six

  #WarHeadGirlPower

  "Goodness," said Rhonda, my Black Pine BFF. Her full lips pursed between round cheeks. "So many little dogs."

  Our other bestie, Tiffany, squatted next to her. Since my move to Black Pine, Rhonda and Tiffany had become the grits and bacon to my sunny-side-up eggs. Their advice — also salty and meaty — kept me grounded, much like the bathroom scale after a hearty breakfast. Plus, they kept me somewhat stylish — a vanity holdover from my years of forced spa'ing— due to the fact they were hair and nail estheticians.

  Tiffany eyeballed the five Jack Russells, who — for once in their lives — sat quietly with only the quick sniff or scratch to show they were more than little brown and white statues. Getting the dogs into Nash's truck had been as easy as squeezing into a pair of Spanx three sizes too small. They kept popping out before we could close the door. That they were still and behaved now was nothing short of a New Year's miracle.

  "They're cute as the dickens," said Tiffany.

  "Teeny had to go to the doctor," said Remi.

  "There's more?" said Rhonda.

  "This here's Mighty, Jerry, Sorrel, Scratch, and Angela. She's the mother. Sorrel's Mighty and Teeny's daddy. Scratch might be Jerry's uncle. We tend to forget because we always have a lot of 'em," explained Remi. "Seems like new puppies just pop out of the woodwork. Daddy says a stork brings 'em, but I've seen them come out of Angela. It's a messy business like none other."

  "Thanks for taking them in on New Year's Eve," I said to Tiffany, hoping to move Remi away from the details of puppy birth. "It's a huge ask from me, I know."

  "It's no big thing." Tiffany stood. Her blue-tipped bob swung, framing her pointed features. "Me and Rhonda always celebrate starting early. We watch movies all day, then the countdown. Ever since Shithead—oops, um…” She squinted at Remi. "My ex-husband found New Year's Eve an excellent night to rob…I mean, unlawfully gain commerce from convenience stores."

  "Cool." Remi's eyes had widened and sparked in a way that made me nervous.

  "You got an important case or something?" Rhonda wore leopard print fleece and held a frothy blended drink in one hand. It seemed they really planned on staying in all day. ”Seems like a shame on New Year's Eve. I thought tonight you'd be getting jiggy—on a da
te with Mr. Nash."

  "Some weirdo is after a deer cartridge necklace I had given to Daddy. It's from a movie I did."

  "Warhead Girl?" said Rhonda. "They've been talking about the fifth anniversary. There's this dude who's nutty for that movie. He's even dressing like the guy in the movie for all his political parades and stuff."

  "I don't know that movie," said Tiffany. "But is that the dude who claims to have missiles pointed all over the place? He's a nut job."

  "Maybe not that nut job," said Rhonda. “It’s hard to tell which one."

  I bit my lip. "Is he calling himself the Supreme Commander?"

  Rhonda's emphatic yes had her braids bouncing on her back. "That nut job. That's the one."

  "That's the name of the bad guy from the movie. In the comic book, he put a bounty on the necklace, but only if Warhead Girl's head was still attached."

  "Ew," said Rhonda.

  I hurried a look at Remi, but she wasn't paying attention to our conversation. She had corralled the dogs around the TV and was flipping through stations with Tiffany's remote control.

  "The producer made them change it in the script because the ratings were already over-the-top for violence. In the movie, the Supreme Commander just wanted the necklace. He thought it would give him special powers, not realizing the power of Warhead Girl came from within herself."

  "Girl power." Rhonda nodded.

  "More like uncontrollable rage at the system, but since Warhead Girl was a girl, I guess that works, too." I grimaced. "The character, Belinda Jenkins was just a regular girl living in a totalitarian regime who saw her parents run over by a tank and her boyfriend falsely arrested and murdered. When she put on the necklace and bandolier of bullets, she became Warhead Girl. Although I thought the rocket launcher made the difference."

  "Miss Albright." Nash appeared in the doorway, holding his phone in his hand. "Ms. Wonderly wants to meet me. Maybe she'll have information about Gentz and why he's also after the necklace."

  The dogs sat around the TV, staring at the screen like the 101 Dalmatian pups.

  "Where's Remi?" I said.

  "Maybe she needed to use the facilities," said Rhonda, sipping her drink. "Don't worry. We'll take good care of her."

  "I'm more worried about you. I took away the slingshot, but she's pretty good at engineering devices. Don't leave any tools laying around. Including scissors, rubber bands, and paper clips. Maybe put up the silverware, too."

  "Or you could stay here and watch her," said Nash.

  "Oh no. You're not going without me." I didn't trust Ms. Wonderly much more than I did Gentz. We didn't know why she or her supposed boss wanted the necklace, either. I glanced down at my Think Rolyn black puffer jacket hiding the necklace. The bullets hung heavy around my neck. Literally and figuratively.

  "I'm all set for kids. I got plenty of candy canes and candy kisses," said Tiffany. "Sour Patch Kids Christmas candies. Coke. And I made Rice Krispy treats that look like champagne bottles. We'll take good care of her."

  "You didn't tell me you had Sour Patch Kids," squealed Rhonda.

  "That's a lot of sugar—"

  "Miss Albright, I'm leaving," said Nash.

  "Remi," I called out. "I'll be back in a little bit. We're just going to check on something really boring."

  Which I truly hoped was the case.

  * * *

  "Our client wants to meet me at Black Pine Winter Market," said Nash opening the truck's passenger door for me. He glanced at his watch. “I said I’d be there by one thirty.”

  I faced him, not ready to step into the truck. "You keep saying our client. Is that to placate me?"

  "Does it?" He used that weird smile again.

  "No." I folded my arms. "We told her no, so why does Ms. Wonderly want to meet again? We don't know why she wants the necklace either."

  "Maybe she hopes we'll change our minds." He dropped the smile. "I'm hoping to find out why Gentz wants the necklace. That might reveal why her boss wants it, too. She won't tell me anything over the phone."

  Winter white and red lipstick made a better impression in person, I thought, but said, "You don't find that suspicious?"

  He shrugged. "We need to hurry. I don't want to miss her. The police are looking for Gentz, but that’s going to take some time.”

  "If I had just given him the necklace, none of that would've happened." My bottom lip bumped out.

  Nash brushed his thumb against my lip. "You told me you'd never give it up to someone like him. All that stuff about a symbol for vigilante violence." He paused, studying me. "Maybe you should give me the necklace."

  I placed a hand over my chest. "No way."

  "You don't trust me?" Nash reared back.

  "I didn't say that. Can you trust Ms. Wonderly? Maybe she's into thug life, too. She could bring her own minions."

  "Let's find out." He smiled, but this time with a lazy grin. A small dimple popped into view and the intensity of his eyes appeared more determined than steely.

  Within me, I bundled hope that he had my best intentions at heart.

  The weight of the bullets around my neck felt a bit lighter. But I still wasn't taking them off.

  Seven

  #DistrustMuch

  Gentz had been right about the day warming with the sun. That’s winter in Georgia. Sunshine brought shoppers to Black Pine's Winter Market. An outdoor market set up on the edge of Black Pine Lake, the small shops and stalls did a brisk business. The market was always lively on New Year's Eve. By sunset, the ground along the lake, already cleared of snow, would be covered with blankets for those who were stalwart enough to brave the cold for the midnight fireworks show. Children ran the grounds while adults strolled along the paths, enjoying the decorations and holiday tunes playing from the bandstand. Fire pits for toasting marshmallows (conveniently sold at s'more stands) were scattered along the lake edge. The scent of pine smoke mixed with the smell of fried dough and chocolate from stalls selling churros, cocoa, and fudge.

  Throughout the summer months, the outdoor artisan shops and cafes attracted tourists. Shops also rented kayaks, fishing boats, and fiberglass paddle boats shaped like swans. The Winter Market was meant for tourists, but locals loved it as well. Every year the Christmas yacht flotilla brought locals together for a mega-holiday party, where at least one drunk had to be rescued from drowning by the Black Pine Marine Police boat.

  I loved the Winter Market. Daddy and I used to go every year during my monthly visit. The bullets around my chest also reminded me of past holidays. Visits with Daddy had been droplets of reality in the bubble of my Hollywood life. Black Pine mountain and lake had given me a visual escape. Daddy had provided an emotional escape.

  And now someone was intent on taking one of the best gifts I had given him during that time of separation? It didn't make sense.

  Particularly because of the ridiculous nature of that gift.

  Nash and I strolled the path teeming with tourists and townies. We walked between stalls dotting the rise above the lake. He had his eye out for Ms. Wonderly. I had my eye out for the Dixie Kreme Donut stand. Not hard to find because of the long line wrapped around it.

  "Is Lamar working?" I said.

  "Probably," said Nash. "He wouldn't want his employees working on New Year's Eve. He's closed tomorrow."

  "We should say hello."

  Nash smirked. "And maybe get you a donut?"

  "I'm all about supporting small businesses."

  "Lamar's in a good spot. He'll have noticed anything unusual at the market."

  Also, because Lamar was a retired cop who had often helped Nash on his cases. He had a keen eye and a keener mind, often using his shop and local network to gather information that might otherwise seem disconnected. Lamar's practical, unerring sense of judgment went beyond adherence to the law. As a cop, he often saw justice underserved and found people like Nash could help the public in ways the law couldn't.

  After Lamar took over his father's donut business (like
a lot of cops, Lamar had a good sense of humor), Nash rented the office above the Dixie Kreme shop and opened Nash Security Solutions. Lamar had known Nash most of his life, but they were both tight-lipped about the early years. Lamar didn't tell other people's stories and Nash took strong and silent to an extreme. Whereas years of therapy (and years of interviews and other marketing events) had me spilling details of my life ad nauseam, Nash didn't believe his past worth discussing.

  Which might be why I didn't quite trust him not to betray my wishes about the necklace. I had begun to realize there was a lot in Nash's past I didn't know.

  "These crowds are ridic," I muttered.

  "Didn't use to be so bad before the movie people moved in," said Nash, curling his lip. "What'd they think? They'll see a movie star in this mob?"

  "Good luck with that. Celebrities know better than to hang out in crowded markets. Most have gone home for the holidays, like everyone else."

  "I need to get to a spot where Ms. Wonderly can find me," said Nash. "There are fewer people down by the lake. I'll grab a bench."

  "It's all very 007, isn't it? A mysterious client who wants you to steal my Christmas gift to my father. A mysterious client who might be a crazy dictator?"

  "You don't believe that, do you?" said Nash.

  "Not really. They would have just kidnapped me and been done with it, like in the seventies, when Kim Jong-il kidnapped that actress and director to force them to make movies." I shook my head. "Something else is going on here."

  Nash stared at me for a long pause. "I meant, you don't believe that I would steal your gift to your father."

  "Oh." I gave him a half-shrug. "That, too."

  "Right." Nash's gaze darted through the throng. "See if Lamar's heard anything. I'll catch up with you after I speak to Ms. Wonderly."

  "You don't want me there, do you?" My frayed nerves sagged under the weight of disappointment.

  "You're a little emotional about the necklace. I want to be able to focus on getting Ms. Wonderly to talk." Nash laid a hand on my shoulder. "Don't take it personal."