Sucking Santa's Candy Cane

by Angelina Rain

  "He forgot?"

  "So why not come back for it? Come on, neither one of us is a little kid, we could both handle the 'it was fun but I never want to see you again' speech. Why run?"

  "Maybe he's immature about it?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Or maybe we could trust my gut right now and assume that he was taken."

  "Who would want to take him?"

  Her hand tightened on the phone. "That's why I'm calling you, you idiot! So you could do some digging for me."

  "Why don't you call the cops and open a missing person's report?"

  "Because they'll assume the same thing you and Wendy assumed and they will not open it without him being missing for twenty-four hours, you know that."

  "How is Wendy?"

  She stood from the bed and started pacing again. "Focus, Mike. Help me find Santa Claus."

  He burst out laughing again. "I can't believe you had sex with Santa Claus. Did his thick white beard tickle when he ate you?"

  Noelle covered her face with her hand and tried not to laugh. As frustrated as she was, the image that conjured in her mind was both funny and gross. "Mike," she said in a warning tone.

  "Okay, okay, I'm looking."

  She sat back down as typing carried through the phone. "He was born in Crown Point, Indiana." More typing. "His father died exactly a year ago tonight."

  Something inside her tingled. It was as though her gut instincts reached out and slapped her across the face, screaming at her that this was a clue.

  "How did he die?"

  "Give me a minute."

  She waited and lay on the bed. Her head sank into the pillows.

  A few minutes later, Mike spoke up again. "He was strangled to death. A bunch of kids found him in a public park on Christmas Morning, right by Santa's Sleigh."

  "Santa's Sleigh?"

  "I'm looking at the crime scene photos right now. There is a metal sleigh with metal reindeer the park district puts out every year by the playground for kids. The reports say that one family with three kids was going to the park to take pictures on the sleigh when the kids ran to it and found the dead body."

  Those poor kids. It had to traumatize them to see such a thing. "You said he was strangled." Which meant he knew his killer. Strangulation was a hands-on method of murder, a personal one, and the victim was someone you knew and hated. "Were there any prints? Was the killer caught?"

  "I'm reading those reports now. Give me a minute."

  She stood up and paced the room some more while she waited.

  "Okay, got it. There were no prints. He wore leather gloves. But there was an eyewitness, a man who was walking his dog earlier that night, and he saw what he describes as a 'heated altercation between two men'. Said they were arguing and one threatened to get revenge on the other. This man didn't stay around, saying he decided to mind his own business, but he did see the other guy and there is a sketch artist picture, although the man is still unidentified and on the run."

  "Can you email me that picture?"

  "Sure. What's your personal email again?"

  She spelled it out for him as her mind raced. Santa's father was killed exactly one year ago and the killer was still on the run. What if the killer had an issue with Santa, Jr. as well? It was known that killers often returned to the place of the crime. If he planned on killing Santa, he might go back to that park. Or, he might kill Santa somewhere else. But where? The park with the sleigh was all she had to go on. "Can you also text me the full address of the place of the crime?"

  "You think the killer will return there with your friend, Santa?"

  "The killer chose to kill in a public place and from what Santa told me, his dad's name was also Santa Claus. So this killer chose to kill Santa by the sleigh. It's kind of poetic, like a crazy man's hate for Christmas. I think maybe that place has some sentimental meaning to it and he might return there." She sighed. "Besides, I have absolutely nothing else to go on."

  "I'll text you the address."

  "Thank you." Noelle was about to hang up when Mike spoke again.

  "Nelly?"

  "Yes?"

  "Stay safe."

  "Thanks. I will."

  "And tell Wendy if she’s ever in town and looking for a hot fuck, I'm her man."

  She smiled. "Goodnight, Mike. Merry Christmas." She hung up.

  Noelle quickly ran around the room making sure she had everything with her. One last pass and she threw the box of condoms into her purse and the now cold cup of coffee into her hand as she dashed out of the hotel room, checked out, and climbed into her car.

  Chapter Four

  She read the text and pulled out her GPS from the glove box, typing in the location so she knew where exactly to go. After she opened the email with the picture, a cold chill raced down her spine.

  It was the man from the gas station.

  He was the killer. He had seen Santa there.

  She had to hurry to save Santa Claus! Noelle jumped on the expressway and sped way above the legal limit. Luckily, because it was a holiday, the streets were empty, but the snow made the driving conditions less than perfect. Fresh snow covered the ground and her car skidded on a small patch of ice. Once she gained control over it again, she kept going.

  Several hours had passed and it was already late into the night when her GPS announced she would reach her destination in less than a mile. The coffee cup was already drained and she craved the minty power juice. This was a great time for a caffeine buzz but she had no time to stop anywhere for coffee.

  Upon reaching the half-mile point, Noelle killed her headlights and inched closer, not wanting to be seen by the killer in case he was there. Once she rounded the corner, the whole street and the park was lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Red, white, and blue lights swirled around in circles as officers rushed around. She parked behind a Crown Point police car and climbed out. The cold wind blew harsh around her as she walked closer to the commotion.

  One officer came toward her and put his hands out in a 'Stop' gesture. "This is a crime scene, Miss. No trespassing."

  A chill ran down her spine. Did a crime happen there already? Why else would the cops be there? Was Santa okay? Was he hurt? Was he even alive? Her heart squeezed and tears almost sprung to her eyes but she forced them away as she dug in her purse and pulled out her badge. "I'm an officer with Memphis PD." She showed him the badge.

  He shined a flashlight on it before taking her arm and turning her back toward her car. "You are out of your jurisdiction. I suggest you stay out of the way."

  "But…" She pleaded with her eyes as everything inside her quivered with fear and uncertainty. "I have reason to believe a friend of mine is here." Damn, she spoke like a cop and not like a civilian. Clearing her throat, she addressed him differently. "Please. I'm Santa Claus Jr.'s friend. Was he here? Is he okay?" She spotted an ambulance by the playground and her heart dropped to her heels. Please, don't let Santa be hurt. Or worse.

  "I'm not at liberty to discuss these things with you." The officer turned to walk away.

  She grabbed his arm and he turned to face her again. "I'm not asking for a press statement, nor am I asking to be part of this investigation. I'm asking you as a person, not as a cop, is my friend okay?"

  He signed and dropped his gaze to the snow covered ground for a second. "He's fine. We got here in time."

  Noelle breathed a sigh of relief as she placed her hand over her chest. "Thank you."

  "I'm not supposed to say this, but we were tipped off my Mrs. Claus and by an Officer Mike Boris of Memphis that the killer might return here tonight. Friend of yours?"

  She nodded.

  "We weren't going to come out here on such a cold night because of Mrs. Claus. You know how family members of victims can be."

  Actually she didn't, being only a traffic cop, but nodded anyways.

  "It was Officer Boris who convinced us to check this place out. He was right. Not an hour had passed since we got here that Mr. Carls
on dragged a tied and beaten Mr. Claus here." He glanced back at the commotion for a moment before turning back to her. "Thank your friend for saving him."

  "I will." Shit! She'd have to buy Mike a big bottle of rum or something. She didn't expect he would call the cops. He totally came through for her.

  The officer turned to leave again and she stopped him once more. "Can you tell Santa Noelle is here? For when he has a minute. He left his wallet with me and I want to give it back to him."

  He nodded. "Sure will." The officer walked away.

  She climbed back into her car, waiting, watching, as the police cars started to drive away and the ambulance left too. It was down to just a few flashing lights now, and from the maze of lights and falling snow, a handsome man stepped out and set her heart to flutter.

  Santa approached and Noelle climbed out of the car. Butterflies danced in her belly. Were they about to have that awkward after sex conversation? Was he about to tell her that it was fun, and that it's all it was?

  Heck! She half expected that, so she already held the cell phone and wallet in hand. Once he came to stand before her, she reached her hands out. They trembled from the cold and she smiled at him. "You forgot those at the…"

  She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence before being pressed against her car as his strong body covered hers. His hands cupped her face as his warm mouth made love to her lips. The kiss was rushed and needy, hungry and full of urgency.

  Nope. There was no awkward goodbye for them. Not with that kiss. This was a hello kiss, an I've missed you and want to be inside of you kind of greeting.

  Once he pulled away, the last of the police cars were gone. He took the phone and wallet and placed both in his pockets before taking her hand into his.

  "Why did that guy try to kill you?"

  "I'll tell you later." He pulled her away from the car. "Come on, I have to show you something."

  Santa led her toward the sleigh. "Let me tell you a story about this."

  Noelle admired the smooth metal, painted red. It had to be old, as the paint had dulled and there were rust spots on the sides and bottom. A chain connected the sleigh to nine metal reindeer, which were also rusty.

  "This sleigh has been in my family for generations." He looked at it lovingly, with pride in his eyes. "My great, great, great-grandfather, was very rich. He owned half this town and every year around Christmas, he would go around town dressed as Santa Claus and give children candy. Of course, that was his name and all kids believed in him. It's kind of a family tradition to keep that name for all the boys. I'm just glad I'm an only son. My dad was Santa Claus Two while his brother was Santa Claus One. Anyway, one year, when he was getting old, my great, great, great-grandfather, had a sleigh made with nine reindeer. He was having a hard time walking, so every year on Christmas morning, he would have his sons take out the sleigh for him, and he would sit on it and give out candy to the children there. The whole town cried at his funeral once he died. He was really loved. At the reading of the will, he left his sleigh to the park district, with the promise they would bring it out every holiday season for the kids. Many families now come out to take pictures on Santa's Sleigh."

  "He sounds like a really nice person. I would have loved to meet him."

  Santa took her hand. "He would have really loved you. He loved everyone." Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed it. "Come on, get on the sleigh."

  But it was so rusty. "Is it safe?"

  "The floor had rusted through so I had replaced the whole bottom with new sheet metal a few years ago. "

  For the first time, she noticed the difference in the metal. The paint was fresher and less faded, and she stepped on it.

  Santa ran his hands over all the reindeers' heads. "There is another reason why this sleigh is so important to me."

  "What's that?"

  He climbed in beside her and they both sat on the metal seat. She expected the cold to freeze her butt, but instead it felt almost comfortable, as though it weren't metal.

  "This sleigh is magical, and every year on Christmas Eve, when the moonlight hits it just right, it comes to life."

  "We're back to psycho Santa." She rolled her eyes. "Are there any mental hospitals around here?"

  He laughed lightly as his fingers touched the side of her face. "Do you believe in magic, Noelle?"

  "No."

  His lips brushed over hers. "Lie to me, then. Do you believe in magic?"

  Why was she attracted to an insane man? Why was she indulging in his delusions? "Um, yes?"

  "Close your eyes."

  She did as told. I have to really like him to play along with this. Noelle didn't know how long she kept them closed.

  "Now open your eyes."

  One she did, her breath escaped her lungs. The metal reindeer weren't metal anymore. They were flesh and blood and shiny fur. They galloped and pulled the sleigh forward. The metal of the sleigh was soft and a deep red with a golden seat and trim. The chain that held the animals was not a chain but a thick golden braided rope, almost like a necklace.

  She looked around. There were no trees around them, no houses, cars, or streets. They were flying. Flying high over the city. Glancing down over the side of the sleigh, she gulped, seeing the street far below. Noelle hated heights!

  Santa took her hand and a sense of ease washed over her. The fear vanished.

  "Am I hallucinating?"

  "No."

  "I have to be. This can't be real." Could it? "If this were real, people would notice reindeer flying through the air."

  "No one can see us. We're invisible. They still see the metal sleigh on the ground. Only my blood kin can make this sleigh come to life, and because you're in it with me, you get to experience the magic."

  "But… But… I'm warm. I can't be warm. It's snowing out."

  "This sleigh is heated, and don't you notice that it's not snowing on us? There's an invisible roof over us keeping the snow from hitting us."

  "But…"

  He took her hand and squeezed it softly. "Shut up your mind, Noelle, and listen to what your heart is saying. You know that magic is real. You know this is real."

  Yes, somewhere deep down, she did. The realization didn't come as a shock. "So, what about the gifts? You said you're in the gift giving service but I don't see any big bags filled with toys."

  "That's because I don't give toys." He pulled out his wallet. "Let me show you something. A few weeks ago, I got this letter in the mail." Producing the letter, he opened it. "I get letters from kids a lot, same as my mom does. We're in the phone book. Most of the time, the letters are asking for toys and games and selfish wishes. I throw those letters out. But this one. This keeps me awake at night."

  "Yeah, I can imagine. I went through your wallet and read it." Would he be angry at her little intrusion? She glanced at him nervously.

  He met her with a smile. "Reading it is one thing, feeling is another. You see, whenever a child writes me a letter, I can feel their emotions." He placed the letter on her lap and put her hand over it, covering it with his own.

  Suddenly, she was no longer Noelle. She was Samantha Gibson. A ten year-old girl without a mother. She didn't know who her mother was, had never met her. Daddy was the only family she had, and daddy was lying hooked up to machines, in a coma. She stayed by his hospital bed, begging for him to wake up. Praying for him to wake up. But he never did.

  Tears sprang to Noelle's eyes and her heart squeezed with pain. "That poor girl. Such pain."

  Santa folded the letter back up and put it away. "This is the pain I feel every night before going to bed. It was killing me to know that I couldn't help her until tonight."

  Did she hear right? "You can help her?" Was there really hope for this little girl?

  He nodded. "Now close your eyes."

  She did, and he kissed her lips. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close, deepening the kiss. She was standing. Didn't know how. Noelle didn't remember standing up, but she
was… falling actually.

  Falling?

  She opened her eyes. Her lips detached from Santa's.

  Fuck! A scream tore from her throat as she glanced up. The sleigh hovered over her head.

  "Stop panicking. We're flying, I have you."

  She glanced down, not convinced. "We're going to crash into that roof."

  But they fell through the roof, and a few stories before coming to stand in a room.

  The hospital room had a cold energy around it, and she shivered slightly. Her heart squeezed as she watched a little girl with golden blonde locks sitting beside a handsome man with jet-black hair and a heavy black beard. He was sleeping, or at least he looked like it.

  "Is that Samantha and her father?" she whispered in Santa's ears.

  "They can't hear us. You could speak louder. And yes." Santa left her side and went to stand by the man's bed.

  Noelle glanced at the girl. "She is in such pain. I wish there was something I could do for her."

  "You can."

  One look at Santa and he gave her a heated look that made a flash of arousal hit her.

  "You ate my cum so you have some of my magic inside you."

  She blushed. Who could have thought eating cum would be magical? "How can I help?"

  "Just touch her and tell her everything will be okay. She won't hear it but her soul will."

  Noelle walked to the girl and put her hand on the little shoulder. The pretty blonde had big blue eyes, which were red from crying. Brushing Samantha's cheeks with her fingertips, she whispered, "Everything will be okay, honey. I don't know how but things always have a way of working out. You and your daddy will have a great, wonderful life together. A long life. He will heal and…"

  "Daddy!" The girl shouted. Her eyes filled with glee and she stood, rushing through Noelle as though she were a ghost.

  She turned to look at the girl and noticed her father's eyes were open.

  Santa came to stand behind Noelle and he wrapped his arms around her. Her back pressed into his chest and she leaned into him.

  Together, they watched in silence as nurses rushed to the room. All rejoiced in the Christmas miracle.