by Laura Durham
"I think it isn't what we discussed," I said through a plastered on smile so the bride wouldn't think I was upset. I gave her a quick hug and told her she looked stunning.
“Do you mind if I take a quick bathroom break?” she asked, slipping off the stool.
“Take your time, sweetie,” Fern said, smiling as she hurried off, then leaning in to me. “I’m not surprised she has to go again. That girl’s been drinking like a fish all morning.”
“That would explain why she’s fine with the hair wreaths,” Kate muttered.
I cut my eyes to a passing bridesmaid, then narrowed my eyes at Fern. “Explain.”
Fern fluttered a hand at me. "I got a burst of creative inspiration. Besides, it's a Christmas wedding."
"Actually, it's a winter wonderland wedding. Everything is blue and white."
He frowned then shrugged. "Well, it's almost Christmas. It will look marvelously festive at the church. I can change up their hair for the reception. Maybe put crystals in instead."
"Don't even think about doing anything but the classic updo you did at the bride’s hair trial."
He let out a deeply wounded sigh. "You're no fun when it comes to themes, sweetie. What about some sprigs of holly? No? Fine, but those wreaths make a statement."
I folded my arms over my chest. "Yes, and it's 'Don't drink and do hair.'"
"Hurtful," Fern said, touching a hand to his chest, his enormous topaz ring flashing at me.
“Where’s Carl?” I asked, scanning the room for our makeup artist.
“He had to run out to grab more mascara.” Fern made a tsk-ing noise in the back of his throat. “He ran out of waterproof.”
You couldn’t put a bride in regular mascara unless you wanted her to look like a crying banshee.
"Love the suit," Kate said, waving at Fern’s outfit. "It fits you better than the Santa suit."
"It's hard to get a slim fit Santa costume," Fern said, pulling a brush through the bride's hair and taking a drink of champagne. "Besides, my Santa costume disappeared. Didn't I tell you?"
"Disappeared?" I asked. "Do you mean it was stolen?"
Fern twitched one shoulder up and down. "I left it in my storage room, and I left the key over the doorsill for Kris, so I assume he's borrowing it."
"Or a drug kingpin is wearing it bound and gagged," Kate muttered.
"You probably should start locking your back door," I told Fern. "Just in case it isn't Kris."
"But then I never would have gotten this note from him," Fern said, producing a crumpled piece of paper from his impossibly snug pants pocket.
I took the paper and unfolded it, reading the note written by Fern at the top in which he asked Kris if he'd been the Santa at the dumpster. Below Fern's swirling handwriting was a hastily scrawled response.
Not me. Look for 4263.
"What's 4263?" Kate asked, leaning across me as she read the note.
Fern shrugged. "No idea. An address?"
I stared at the paper, the ink smudged. "But what street? This could be anywhere."
"And those numbers don't exist in Georgetown addresses," Fern reminded me. "Not Georgetown proper, at least. An address with 4263 would be much higher up Wisconsin or deeper into downtown."
I let out a breath, frustrated that the tip from our renegade Santa was so vague.
"Why be so cagey?" Kate asked. "Why not just tell us?"
I folded the paper and tucked it into my pocket. "Maybe he doesn't trust us."
Kate opened her arms wide. "Then why say anything at all? He clearly wants us to find something at 4263 or he wouldn't have mentioned it."
"But he felt he couldn't say it directly." I shook my head, more confused than ever.
I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and I pulled it out, turning to Kate before answering. "Keep an eye on the hair while I take this."
She stepped closer to Fern, taking the glass of champagne from his hand and stealing a sip.
I pressed the talk button as I walked toward the door, expecting it to be one of my wedding vendors checking in. "Annabelle Archer speaking."
"Babe, it's me," Reese said.
"Oh, hey." I felt a rush hearing his voice. "Guess who I just saw in the lobby of The Four Seasons."
He sighed deeply. "That's what I was calling to tell you. I told her not to bother you."
"Her?" I stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door almost closed to block out the sound of Beyoncé singing about all the single ladies.
"As I was leaving for work, Leatrice was heading out in her Santa suit to sing carols around Georgetown and insisted she was going to surprise you at the Four Seasons."
"That explains the Santa Kate saw running around outside the hotel," I said, shaking my head. "I have got to stop telling her where I'm working. I didn't know you were working today."
"Got called in." He sighed. "I just walked into the precinct."
"You might be able to help with this." I walked a few steps down the carpeted hallway, the sound of bridesmaids' laughter becoming fainter. "Fern got a note--most likely from Kris--telling him to look for 4263. Does that ring any bells? Is it the location of someplace notable in the criminal underworld?”
He chuckled. "4263? The criminal underworld? Not that I know of. I can do a search for addresses and see what I come up with."
"Thanks. I don't know why he's sending us code. Why not just tell us?"
"He's former military," Reese reminded me. "And it sounds like he's scared. Maybe he thought the note would be seen by the wrong person and get him into deeper trouble."
"Who's Fern going to show aside from us? The president of the Junior League?"
Another laugh from Reese. "Did you say Kate saw a Santa running around the Four Seasons? When was this?"
"About twenty minutes ago."
"I hate to break it to you, but that couldn't have been Leatrice. She only left our building twenty minutes ago."
I rubbed a hand across my forehead. "So you're telling me I have to deal with multiple Santas, a cryptic code that makes no sense, and a huge wedding?"
Reese chuckled. "'Tis the season, babe."
Chapter 34
“So I wasn't seeing things?" Kate asked as we stepped off the elevator at the lobby level.
We were greeted by piped-in holiday music and the low hum of visitors admiring the Christmas trees. I knew that in an hour or two the sun would set and the hotel's restaurant would also get busy. Hotels in December were always bustling--another reason we usually avoided holiday weddings.
"I'm not saying that," I said. "Just that between Fern's missing Santa suit, Leatrice in a Santa suit, and the fact that it's almost Christmas, there's a good chance we might see more than one Santa today."
I glanced at the empty upholstered chair where we'd left Daniel. "Where do you think he ran off to?"
"He's probably doing a perimeter sweep."
I raised an eyebrow at her. "Look who knows the security team lingo."
She gave a nervous laugh. "I've heard him talking to his guys a few times. You pick it up."
I understood that. After hearing Reese talk to Hobbes on the phone, I felt like I was learning the various codes they used to shorthand their conversations. "Let's forget about Leatrice and the fact that we have a private security guard and just focus on the wedding. We still need to hang those escort ornaments."
"No time like a present," Kate said.
"The present," I said under my breath, knowing she didn't care.
She twitched one shoulder up and down. “My version is more Christmassy.”
As we crossed the lobby toward the stairs going down, I glanced over and saw a Santa coming through the glass front doors of the hotel. I tugged Kate along behind me. "Move it. I think I see Leatrice."
"You know she'll track us down eventually," Kate said as we hurried down the stairs. "You're just delaying the inevitable."
"If she can get past the hotel security," I said. "Short Santa with lots of makeup should se
nd up some red flags."
We reached the ballroom level, and I saw that Buster and Mack had added the silver ribbon garland to our escort card tree. Behind the tree, a bright red leg and shiny black boot disappeared into the meeting room we'd set aside as the bride and groom's quiet space for when they arrived at the hotel after the ceremony and before they joined cocktail hour.
"Who was that?" I asked, fighting the urge to rub my eyes.
"Who was who?"
"Okay, I could have sworn I just saw the leg of a Santa go into the bride and groom's holding room."
"It couldn't be Leatrice. We just saw her upstairs." Kate clutched my arm. "We're being stalked by Santas. It's like a terrifying holiday horror movie."
I rushed over and peeked inside the room. Nothing. Of course the Santa could have gone out the back of the room that led to the hotel kitchens and prep area, but why would a Santa be sneaking around the bowels of a hotel?
"We're not being stalked by Santas," I said, joining Kate in the foyer again. "The hotel probably has one appearing in the restaurant or a private party or something. You know corporate holiday parties love their Santas."
"You know who would know?" Kate snapped her fingers. "Sidney Allen. Doesn't he supply most of the Santas around DC?"
"You're a genius." I pulled out my phone and searched up the entertainment diva's number, calling him and waiting until he picked up. " Hi, Sidney Allen. It's Annabelle."
"Hi, Annabelle." He sounded surprised to hear from me, and I could hear the worry in his voice. "We aren't working together today, are we?"
"No. Not today. I have a quick question for you."
"Okay. Hold on one second. Dickens carolers, I need you on the balcony pronto." He was clearly talking into the headset he always wore when coordinating entertainment at events. "Waifs, I need you to emote more. I need more waif from you. Okay, Annabelle, I'm back; what can I do for you?"
"Do you have any Santas at the Four Seasons today?"
"Today?" He went quiet for a moment. "Nope. We're at the Fairmont, the Park Hyatt, and the Mayflower. We're not at the Four Seasons again until a holiday party on Wednesday."
"Thanks. Sorry to bother you."
"Don't mention it," he said, then sucked in a sharp breath. "Carolers from the eighteenth century did not wear digital watches, Kenneth. Did you miss my email on historical accuracy? I have to run, Annabelle." And with that, he clicked off.
"So?" Kate asked.
"He doesn't have any Santas here, and I feel really sorry for Kenneth." I let out a breath. "We still have a wedding to run and ornaments to hang. Let's try to forget about the Santa sightings and focus on that."
"Agreed." Kate led the way to the meeting room next door that we were using to store all of our supplies and details for the wedding. "Our wedding is the one thing that's been smooth sailing."
When we walked in, Mack stood at the long table that held the drinks and a silver punch bowl filled with ice. Later in the evening, it would hold a buffet of sandwiches, pasta salad, chips, and cookies for all the vendors. For now, it was empty save the assortment of miniature bottles of sodas and waters.
Mack looked up from pouring himself a Sprite. "There you are. Did you see the tree?"
"It looks great," I said as Kate joined him at the table, and I headed for the stacks of boxes along one wall. "Now all we have to do is hang these in alphabetical order without breaking any."
"You know guests are going to take forever trying to find their names, right?" Kate asked, twisting the top off a Diet Coke.
"That's why you'll be standing there to help them."
She rolled her eyes. "Why me?"
"Would you rather be in charge of wrangling the bridal party into order for the introductions?"
She cringed. "Never mind. I'll take tree duty."
I knelt down and read the sides of the cardboard boxes, searching for the box we'd labeled "A-F." I stood up and turned around. "Did we bring all the boxes from my apartment?"
"Of course. We read off the letters as we loaded them into your CRV."
"That's what I thought." I counted the boxes again. "And we definitely unloaded everything from my car?"
"You know we did." Kate walked over to join me. "What's going on?"
"The 'A-F' box isn't here."
"Impossible." Kate bent over and walked down the row of boxes, reading the side of each one. She glanced over her shoulder at Mack. "You guys didn't take it by any chance?"
Mack shook his head. "This is the first I've been in here all day."
My pulse quickened and I tried not to panic. This wasn't a situation where we could fix it with back-up escort cards. We didn't have twenty-five spare ornaments or the time to paint names on them.
"Brianna," Kate said like she was uttering a curse.
So much for our wedding setup going smoothly.
Chapter 35
As soon as she said it, I knew she was right. Who else would have any use for Christmas ornaments with other people's names on them? Only someone who wanted to sabotage our wedding, and Brianna knew we had a wedding at the Four Seasons today. She'd already tried to sabotage it once by stealing the flowers, and now she'd stolen some of our escort cards.
"She's Santa," Kate said.
"What?" Mack stared at her.
I nodded. "You're right. The person who stole the flower order was dressed like Santa. What better way to move around in December without people recognizing you than a Santa suit?"
Kate pointed to the doorway that led into the back of the hotel. "And she's moving around through the back of the house."
"The loading dock," I said. "I'll bet she's heading for the loading dock."
Mack shook his head. "Our trucks are blocking the way out. We thought it was her who tried to steal candy from your Valentine's wedding last year and had to abandon it because she couldn't get out of the loading dock. I don't think she'll make that mistake again."
"If it was me, I'd walk right out the front door," Kate said. "Who's going to stop Santa?"
"I'll head upstairs," I said, waving to Kate. "Can you text Daniel and tell him to be on the lookout for a Santa with a box?"
"On it," Kate said, her fingers already tapping away on her phone.
"I'll go tell Buster," Mack said, walking out of the room with me. "He'd love an excuse to chase down Brianna."
I took the stairs to the lobby two at a time, grateful I wore sensible flats on wedding days and grateful Kate wasn't running behind me this time, trying to keep up in her very insensible heels. When I reached the lobby, I swung my head from side to side. The place was brimming with people, but I didn't see a Santa. Not even Leatrice dressed as Santa. I pushed through the tourists ooh-ing and aah-ing over the decor until I'd reached the glass doors.
"Annabelle, dear!"
I spun to see Leatrice sitting on a cream-colored couch in the lobby's sitting area. As expected, she had on a Santa suit--sans the beard--and a full face of makeup. A uniformed police officer stood next to her looking less than pleased.
"Is everything okay?" As much as I wanted to catch Brianna, I didn't want Leatrice to get arrested, although I couldn't imagine what the octogenarian had done.
"Fine and dandy," she said, straightening her red-and-white hat.
"You know this Santa?" the officer asked. "We got a call from hotel security about some unauthorized Santas wandering around the hotel."
"I know her," I said. "She's my neighbor and she's harmless, if a little excited about the holidays. You can check with Detective Mike Reese. He'll vouch for her, as well."
The cop's eyebrows went up. "Thanks." The corners of his mouth curved up. "So when she threatened to give her detective friend my badge number, she wasn't kidding?"
I gave Leatrice a stern look, but she merely shrugged, holding up a slip of paper with numbers written on it along with a name.
"I'm sorry, officer." I scanned the lobby again. "Neither of you have seen another Santa come through here by any chance
?"
Leatrice's garishly coral lips curled up into a wide smile. "Actually, I did. Just a minute ago."
"Where did she go?"
"She?" Leatrice blinked rapidly. "There's another lady Santa in Georgetown?"
"It's not a real Santa. It's Brianna, dressed as Santa, trying to sabotage our wedding."
Leatrice frowned. "That's not very Christmassy of her." She pointed at the glass doors. "She walked right out the front of the hotel."
"Thanks." I waved at her as I ran out of the hotel. Brianna didn't live here, and her office was all the way at the end of M Street, so I doubted she was walking all the way there carrying a big box. She had to have a getaway vehicle.
It was already dusk outside, and I squinted as I looked around. The hotel valets were busy running back and forth as cars swung into the circular drive that fronted the hotel, but I didn't see a Santa in any of the cars. I glanced back through the glass doors to the police officer, and I almost gasped out loud.
4263
It couldn't be, I thought, as I punched in Reese's number on my phone. It went to voicemail.
“Elf me!” I said loudly, making a valet give me a curious look. I’d gotten so used to Buster and Mack’s alternative curses, I’d forgotten how to swear properly. I left a message explaining my theory and clicked off.
I still needed to find Brianna and our missing ornaments, plus I had no idea of knowing if my wild hunch was right. Hurrying to the left of the hotel, toward Twenty-ninth Street and the nearest street parking, a noise drew my attention to the Four Seasons courtyard tucked back between two buildings.
"Don't move, Kris." The voice wasn't loud, but it was forceful, and I knew I'd heard it before.
I followed the sound--walking quietly on my toes--until I'd reached the paved area scattered with outdoor seating and a round raised flower bed that now held only greenery. Since the temperature had dropped, no one was outside. No one but a Santa and a cop with his gun drawn.
A cop that I could see in the landscape uplighting had the badge number 4263. I’d been right about the number being a policeman’s badge. The cop mentioning Leatrice wanting to take his badge number had made me realize the connection, but I hadn’t been sure who the badge would belong to. Until now.