The Christmas Walk Caper

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The Christmas Walk Caper Page 5

by J. B. Michaels


  “Excuse me. Excuse me. We are meeting someone who is already sitting down. Thanks,” Mac said as he cut to the front of the long line.

  Bushy eyebrows stood behind the host desk.

  “Michael back yet?”

  “Ah, yes. Hold on.”

  This time Mac flashed his badge, and that made the process much quicker.

  “I will get him up here straight away.” The young host ran to the back of the bar to the swinging doors.

  A tall curly-haired Michael Fanucci walked out with a towel in his hands.

  Mac and Millie pushed into the small bar area to get his attention. Lots of couples drank wine and waited for their table.

  “Can I help you?” Michael asked.

  “Yes, need to ask you a few questions.” Mac flashed his badge.

  “You aren’t a cop. I know every cop in Geneva. I don’t have to answer to you. As you can see, I am very busy. It’s the Christmas Walk, pal.” Michael wiped his hands.

  “How much did you offer Patricia for the Tiny Wanderer? Why did she reject your offer? Did you get mad and murder her this morning?” Mac yelled since it was so packed and loud.

  Only a few people within a couple feet seemed to hear him, and they just kept drinking their wine.

  “What?! Get outta here now. Last warning.” Michael shook his head. He turned around and went back through the swinging doors.

  Mac started to follow him but, Millie placed her hand on his chest. “Mac, no. Let me try. Wait out here.”

  “He is pretty mad. Probably wouldn’t be good for you to go back there now.”

  “Yeah, thanks to you, he’s mad. Sometimes a bullish approach isn’t the best way. Let me handle this.” Millie walked through the swinging doors to the back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Millie walked with confidence into the hot kitchen of Fanucci’s. There were stainless steel counters, cookware, and appliances everywhere, and a red tile floor to mask all the fallen marinara sauce. A full staff of cooks toiled away at the many orders that needed fulfillment.

  “Who are you? Dear God, are you with that idiot wannabe cop? You can’t be back here,” Michael bellowed.

  “Mike, I don’t know if you remember me. I played softball with your sister. I’m Millie Paderson.” Millie pulled her hand from her jacket pocket, and a fast dissipating cloud of dust billowed. She put her hand out for him to shake.

  Michael walked closer and into the dust cloud to shake her hand. He closed and rubbed his eyes. He opened them back up and didn’t shake her hand. “Oh wait, yes, Millie. Sofia’s friend. Now I remember. What is going on here? Hang on, let me get a drink of water.”

  Michael turned away and looked to a nearby sink.

  Millie held water in a scotch glass in front of her. “Here you go.”

  “Oh…how…thanks.” Michael grabbed the glass from her and drank it fast.

  He downed the water mixed with more of Becca’s truth concoction.

  “Now, Mike, Patricia passed away this morning. Tell me about your negotiations with her for the Tiny Wanderer.”

  “Order’s up!” a cook yelled to a server.

  Michael looked distracted by that but then focused his energy on her. “I made her the best offer I could. I even bested Lacy’s offer, but she chose to go with Lacy’s because she didn’t like the plans I had for the property.”

  “Which were?”

  “I wanted to open up a themed Italian beef quick service restaurant with Gordon Artese, the real estate guy in town. She didn’t like that and was supposed to sell to Lacy’s today. Is she really dead?”

  “Yes, she’s really dead. Just seems very suspicious—”

  “Stop right there. I have no idea why I am telling you all this. Was I pissed about her turning me down? Yes. Very pissed. I would never murder her. That’s ridiculous. Now can I get back to work? I have a restaurant to run on one of the busiest weekends of the year.” Michael was very demonstrative and used his hands the whole time he spoke his truth. He then went to take another drink of water only to find the glass disappeared from his hand.

  “Thanks for your time, Mike. Say hi to Sofia for me.” Millie walked out of the kitchen.

  Mac waited at the edge of the bar in a sea of people waiting to be seated in the main dining room.

  “What happened?” Mac put out his hands in anticipation.

  “He talked.”

  “How did you get him to talk so quick?”

  “Magic.” Millie blew right past him to the doors.

  Mac followed. “Funny. No, for real. What happened?”

  The cold night air hit Millie’s face, and she took a deep breath. “He didn’t do it. He admitted frustration but didn’t kill Patricia.”

  “How do you know he wasn’t lying?” Mac nearly stumbled with his cane.

  “He wasn’t lying. His sister was one of my best friends in high school. I trust him. He did give us another lead to follow. We need to find Gordon Artese now.”

  “Wait. Did you say Gordon?”

  “Yes, I did. He’s a bigshot realtor around here.”

  “Patricia’s daughter is married to a Gordon. Patricia’s home is open tonight for the Walk. Let’s head there now!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Mac called Vince.

  “I just left the station, Mac! I gave all the stuff to Charlie Gerner. He is taking over the case as I said would happen earlier,” Vince said.

  “Vince. Get somebody to pick up Gordon Artese. He is a prime suspect in Patricia’s murder. He is a realtor in town.”

  “I know the guy, and he’s marred to the daughter. Ugh. Okay, I will call it in. You can stop now, Mac Attack.”

  “Thanks, Vince. Do you want to know why? I’ll see if he’s at the Flaherty house which is still open for the Walk.”

  “No, I want to go on vacation. I trust you, my brother. If you say it’s Gordo, it’s Gordo. I am out. Have a good night.” Vince ended the call.

  Mac and Millie reached Patricia’s block.

  The exterior of Patricia’s Flaherty’s ranch looked as if Clark Griswold had decorated it. So many bright white lights and a long line waiting to tour the home. The main attraction of the Christmas Walk wasn’t Third Street. The homes around downtown were specifically decorated and staged for the event so people could experience Christmas by walking into the pictures on a Christmas card or even the cover of a cozy mystery novel or just about every Hallmark Christmas movie ever made. The homes were gorgeous, dripping with charm and holiday magic. As Mac observed earlier, Patricia’s home was no exception.

  “I will flash my badge and get us to the front of the line.” Mac walked with his cane. He’d had a very active day. His leg ached. The doctor said that pain would really never dissipate.

  They walked to the front of the line. A family of four waited to tour the house near the door.

  Mac flashed his badge. “Just here to relieve my guy doing security in here.”

  “Oh, no problem.” The mother stepped to the side.

  Mac and Millie entered the house. There was a line of people that curved to the right and into the living room with the Christmas tree on one side and a vast Christmas village on the other.

  Mac walked to the kitchen and beyond into the bedroom area, which had been marked as not part of the house tour with a blue velvet rope. Millie followed close behind.

  A toilet flushed through the bathroom door on his left.

  “Hey, no one is supposed to be back here. Jeez, I stop to pee for a second,” a deep voice grumbled.

  Mac and Millie walked to the end of the hall and into a bedroom on the right. It must have been Patricia’s room. On the bed was a tan jacket and a leather bowling ball bag.

  Mac shut the door and locked it behind them. “I recognize that jacket, Millie. It was the goon from earlier. Check the bag.”

  The pounding steps of the goon walked the hall towards them.

  “Millie, check the bag.” Mac stood guard at the door and held the
handle tight.

  Millie’s eyes were wide as she checked. “There must be about forty grand in cash in here.”

  “Check the jacket. Look for an ID with the name Jerry on it,” Mac whispered.

  Boom! The goon knocked on the door.

  Millie found a wallet. “It’s a thick wallet.”

  “That’s because it has a badge in it.”

  “Hey! Open the door! I am a police officer! You can’t be in there!” the goon yelled.

  “Clear all the pockets.”

  “Yep, Officer Jerry Haddonfield is his name. Some receipts. A little blue cap.”

  “A little blue cap? That cap was for a needle. The needle that killed Patricia!”

  “Who? Oh no, is that you, Rickman? You crippled bigshot cop! Open the damn door or I am breaking it down!”

  “Good! Come on in so we can arrest you! You are under arrest for the murder of Patricia Flaherty!” Mac yelled.

  The pounding and yelling stopped.

  Silence.

  Heavy footfalls boomed then rapidly faded down the hall. Some people screamed.

  “He’s running.” Millie stuffed the receipt and needle cap in her pocket.

  “Yep, he is. And I can’t run,” Mac said. “You’re up, college athlete.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Millie ran through the door Mac had opened for her and through the hall of the Flaherty ranch. Millie still owned the stolen base record of her college softball program and her high school. Her quick-twitch muscles proved most effective in the sprint. She made the turn out of the hallway and to the front door.

  “He went that way!” a few people in line yelled to Millie and pointed toward Third Street.

  “Thank you!” Millie ran across the lawn and across the street.

  Surely, his plan was to lose her in the crowds on Third Street. If he made it near the courthouse where people waited for the tree lighting ceremony, he’d be very difficult, if not impossible, to find.

  She saw him on Fourth Street behind the Tiny Wanderer. He wore a cream cardigan sweater and jeans. He headed to Third, but she gained on him.

  He took an angle run across the street from the Tiny Wanderer and would reach the throngs of people walking Third in seconds.

  “Shoot.” Millie stopped her run and pulled out Jerry’s receipts. She waved her hand. “Reditus Retorno.”

  The receipts flew up into the air then darted in the direction Jerry ran.

  Millie followed the receipts.

  Mac walked out of the house and called Vince.

  “Why do I keep answering your calls?”

  “Did you get to the Artese residence yet? We found his accomplice. He hired Jerry Haddonfield to kill Patricia Flaherty for forty thousand dollars and who knows what else. Jerry is on the run now, and Millie is after him on foot.”

  “Jerry, that buffoon! Are you kidding me? Oh hell, I will come get you. Hang tight. Let me call and see if they got Artese yet. This is crazy.”

  “Thanks, Vince. I’m still at Patricia’s.”

  Mac paced the front of the house. How did Jerry know to threaten him? Had he been in the house and the reflection in the microwave wasn’t an illusion? He looked at the picture in his phone.

  No. There was nothing in the reflection. Mac looked to the long line of people and the doorway.

  The doorbell. The doorbell had a camera. Gordon and Jerry monitored who went into the house. They knew Mac was snooping around and knew to mention the mayor because of how ridiculous the mayor acted about the entire situation. Patricia didn’t like cameras and didn’t even have them in the Wanderer, but Gordon must have liked them. Mac wondered how closely they’d monitored him the entire day. Maybe they did follow him throughout the day. The thought ran a chill down his spine.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Millie realized that the spell worked but would only do her any good if she could regain a visual on Jerry. She ran along the brick-paved road. The receipts raced through the air to return to their owner, and Millie faithfully followed.

  The crowd went unorganized from a fine line on the sidewalk to a wide splash of people around the Christmas tree in front of the courthouse. The receipts slowed to graceful float back to their owner.

  Millie took a wide left turn near the history museum. Jerry must have slowed down amongst the big crowd that anxiously awaited the visual spectacle of the tree lighting. The receipts made their way through the night air and picked up speed towards Route 38.

  Millie power walked through the crowd saying, “Excuse me. Sorry,” every two feet.

  She made it through the most condensed part of the crowd. Route 38 and the receipts lay ahead.

  A burst of light hit her peripheral vision. The crowd roared with applause. The tree lighting had commenced. Millie couldn’t even look.

  She spotted him.

  Jerry hobbled to the road and crossed 38, seeming exhausted. He put his hands on his knees and grabbed for his phone. The receipts floated onto his neck. He grabbed them and ripped them apart.

  A black town car rolled up to the corner he stood on.

  Millie kicked into high gear. She was cold. Her lungs hurt. But she was close.

  Too late.

  Jerry hopped in the car and took off.

  Millie stopped.

  She had another option. She shook her head and coughed from her intense run through the cold. She took out her phone and called for backup.

  “Hellooooo.” Becca’s voice sounded distorted from wind.

  “Mom, I need you to help me find—”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I am already in pursuit. You’re welcome!” More wind distorted her Mom’s voice.

  Millie looked up, and sure enough, she could see in the ambient light from Route 38. Her mother and her golden hair, flying high on a broomstick.

  “You followed us!” Millie slapped her forehead.

  “Now wait a minute. You know I like to watch the tree lighting on the broom. But yes, I followed you, too. They are heading towards the high school. Call Mac and the police. Tell them now. Should I put a petrified spell on the car now or just wait?”

  “Just do it. Do it now!”

  “Do not yell at your mother, Millie.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Vince had the rollers going. The lights on his unmarked squad acted as a beacon for Mac to run to. He hobbled as fast as he could. He reached for the door handle as Vince had already pushed the door open for him.

  “Patrol rolled up to the Artese household. Gordon took off in his black town car just a few minutes before we got there. Jerry tipped him off, I would guess. The wife slash daughter is being cooperative. Saying that Gordon has been acting strangely and is basically relieved we are about to arrest him. Everyone is looking for him,” Vince said.

  “Good. I haven’t heard from Mill— Oh wait, here she is now.” Mac answered his ringing phone.

  “Mac. Jerry was picked up on 38 by a town car which then broke down near the high school. Meet me there.”

  “Vince, the high school. Hit the sirens. Millie, we will be right there. Jerry is armed so just wait for us!”

  “Okay, I’ll be careful. I’ll watch where they go next. See you soon.”

  “Be careful.” Mac ended the call.

  Vince spoke into the police band. “All units. All units. Converge on the high school. Geneva High School. Suspects are stopped in a black sedan. Near the high school.”

  A few responses patched in and out.

  The sirens blared and pounded Mac’s ears.

  Vince avoided Third at all costs, drove to Seventh Street, floored it north to 38, and made a hard right onto Logan.

  The excitement brought joy to Mac’s heart. He missed this. Being a cop was fun.

  Then it hit him. No way Millie could have chased Jerry who was picked up by car on foot all the way to the high school. How did she know they were near the high school? Something didn’t add up.

  “Mom, are they still in the car?” Millie�
�s mother provided overwatch intel from high in the sky on a broomstick.

  “They were in for longer than I thought. I used the petrified spell and bricked the vehicle. The two idiots tried starting it for far too long. Anyway, they got out and ran over to the high school and broke a window on the Logan Avenue side of the school. They must be hiding in the school somewhere. Should I go in and petrify them as well?”

  “Mom. No. Let the cops take it from here. We don’t want to make anyone suspicious.” Millie ran to the high school due north on Mckinley Avenue.

  “The tree looks beautiful this year,” Becca said.

  The wind had died down in the background where Millie assumed she hovered.

  Millie shook her head. “I will have the authorities sweep the school for them. Yes, the tree does look nice. Mom, keep your focus on the school to see if they come out.”

  A police car raced past her, lights and sirens going. Then a fire truck’s siren whined not far behind.

  “Your dad and I really like Mac by the way. Seems like a good man.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Millie ended the call then called Mac.

  “Millie, how did you know—"

  “Mac! They are in the high school somewhere. They entered from the Logan Avenue side of the school through a window they broke. Send everyone there.”

  “Will do. Will do. Vince, we are going to have to search the high school. They entered from Logan. Thanks, Mills!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The blaring sound of sirens filled the air behind Vince’s squad car. Mac looked back and saw the lights of the GPD SUVs that followed close. Mac held the side spotlight of the squad car as they neared the brown brick of the two-story and somewhat sprawling Geneva High School.

  Mac aimed the spotlight at the side of the building. The windows were tinted, but the strength of the squad torch did reveal shelves of books. The library. The windows themselves had a longer top section and a smaller bottom section that was able to angle open to let air in. Jerry and Gordon smashed a bottom section open and entered the library.

 

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