Miss Frost Chills the Cheater

by Kristen Painter

  The young man nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Good.” I took the keys and headed for the crawler with Sin at my side. My mind was spinning with one thought after another. “You know what I think we should do? If you’re up to it, that is.”

  “What?” Sin asked.

  “Give the Post an interview. After I give them a piece of my mind, naturally. But let them see for themselves what a wonderful, non-scary guy you are. What do you think?”

  “I’ll do it. I should change first. Be less bad cop, more good boyfriend.”

  I smiled as much as I could manage. “Perfect. I’ll have Ezreal set it up when we get back.”

  “You think they’ll go for it? And if they do, what’s to keep them from putting their own spin on my answers?”

  “They’ll go for it. They can’t say no to a royal request. And they’d better not spin the answers if they want to stay in business.”

  “You mean your father could shut them down?”

  “He could take away their funding. The paper isn’t privately owned.”

  We got into the crawler. I was driving today since Sin had only been close to the factory, not actually to it. Not that it was so hard to find. You could see the building from just about every spot in town, because it rose above everything.

  I slammed my door without meaning to. “Sorry. I’m a little wound up.”

  Sin winked at me. “You have every right to be.”

  “You bet your snowballs I do.” The crawler engine was already on, so I pushed my foot down and took off. I drove too fast, but it felt good. And got us there in record time.

  The guard at the factory gate greeted me with a kind smile. “Morning, Your Highness.”

  We showed him our badges. “Good morning.”

  He started toward the guard shack to lift the gate, then hesitated. “Just want to say I don’t believe nothing the Post is saying.” He leaned down to see Sinclair better. “Me and the missus think it’s great you and the princess are in love.”

  Sinclair gave the man a nod. “Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

  I looked at the man’s name tag. “Yes, Mr. Bunting. It’s very nice. And the support is appreciated. Thank you.”

  He pushed the button to lift the gate, smiling. “You two have a good day now.”

  “Same to you.” I drove through and took a breath. “That was brave of him to say. And kind. Proves that not everyone is against us.”

  Sin reached over and took my hand. “It was nice to hear. Just like that man who spoke out for you in the crowd last night.”

  “Yes.” I parked in the private lot next to my uncle’s cherry-red crawler and we got out. “You’ll need your badge for this entrance too.”

  “Okay.” Sin fished his from his pocket as we walked in.

  There was a small steel and glass foyer inside, but the metal door that led to the rest of the building was locked. A guard sat inside a control booth behind a sliding glass window that was currently open. He stood as soon as I entered. “Good morning, Princess Jayne.”

  “Good morning. We’re here to see my uncle.” I showed my badge to the guard, then Sin did the same.

  The guard nodded. “Of course.” He hit a button on the desk, a small chime sounded, and the door blocking our entrance slid out of the way. The hall before us was as simple and austere as the foyer, but that décor would change soon enough as we got deeper into the building.

  “Thank you.” I took Sin’s hand as I went through, wanting to feel his strong grip. It was reassuring. Not that I was in any particular need of reassurance. But it was nice.

  “I know you said security was increased a while back, but this place still has better security than I imagined it would. And yet…” Sin glanced around as we came to the elevators.

  I pushed the up button. I couldn’t wait to see what Sin thought of the ride to the top. “And yet what?”

  “None of the guards carry weapons of any kind.”

  I laughed. “They don’t need to. They can freeze you solid with a flick of their magic.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, that would do it. I forget winter elves can do that sometimes.”

  The elevator doors slid open, revealing the plush interior that hinted at what was to come.

  Sin ran his hand along the tufted burgundy velvet walls as we got on. “This is more like what I thought this place would look like.”

  The gold trim and dark wood panels added to the luxurious feel. I tapped the S button. “The parking lot entrance is the only one that’s sort of plain. You’ll see.”

  “Oh?” He was still checking out the elevator. “I like the big mirror.”

  “It’s not a mirror. Not really.” The doors shut, and we lifted. I tipped my head toward the back wall of glass. “Watch.”

  He did just as the elevator rose out of its metal base and opened up to a view of the first level of the factory floor. Thousands of elves toiled away at worktables, creating the toys that children around the world would find under their Christmas trees. The speed and efficiency with which they worked filled the air with the shimmer of magic.

  Sin’s mouth came open, his eyes widened, and he leaned in, fingertips on the railing in front of the glass. He breathed out a soft sound of wonderment.

  The view improved as we rose, allowing even more levels to be seen. On each one, different toys were being made. Dolls on one. Wheeled vehicles on another. Blocks and connecting toys on a third.

  Higher and higher we rose. Sin continued to be captivated. “Are they…singing?”

  “Yes. We do that while we work.”

  “I thought that was just a myth.”

  “Nope. Helps the time pass and keeps the mood light. It’s fun.”

  He snorted. “Sure, if you can sing.”

  “All elves can sing. Some better than others, but all reasonably well.” I squinted at him when he looked at me. “What? It’s one of our things. I’m sure there’s a trait all necromancers have.”

  He blinked twice, then shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”

  I pointed at the window again. “You’re missing it.”

  As we ascended farther, the slides started. It was one of the most common ways to go from floor to floor. Elevator up, slide down. Unless you were carrying a lot of stuff, traveling down a lot of floors, or my uncle. He had his own private elevator that allowed him to move quickly to wherever he needed to go in the factory.

  Also, he’d gotten stuck on a slide once. That was the end of that.

  Sin laughed. “Okay, I have to do that. Can we? Or is that an elves-only thing?”

  “We can do it. Later, though. When we’re done with the interrogation.”

  “Sure.” He went back to watching the factory. “This place just keeps getting better.”

  I smiled, my heart light with those words.

  Finally, the elevator stopped at the top floor. The Santa floor.

  The doors opened and out we went. Mamie, my uncle’s receptionist and secretary, wasn’t at her desk, but the door to his office was open, and I could see there was already a crowd in there.

  “C’mon,” I said to Sin as I started forward. “Might as well join the fray.”

  My uncle stood by a big worktable with several other elves, builders and confectioners, by the looks of them. They were all going over some papers that were spread out. He glanced up at the sound of my voice. “Jayne! And Sinclair! Welcome to the factory.”

  “Thank you,” Sinclair said. His face still held the look of wonderment it had in the elevator.

  Thankfully, no one in the group seemed to care that Sinclair was who he was. Or if they did, they were smart enough not to show it in front of my uncle.

  I walked around the desk and gave my uncle a hug. “Hi, Uncle Kris. I hope we’re not interrupting. This looks important.”

  He looked at me over his wire-rimmed glasses and tapped the papers. “These are the blueprints for the new confectionary. We’re taking your aunt Ma
rtha’s eggnog fudge international, and once the website launches, we’re going to ship worldwide.”

  “That’s awesome. But how are you going to get a website to work up here?”

  He grinned and pointed at one of the elves, a young man with bright green eyes and a shock of reddish-purple hair. “Meet Ingvar. He’s our new IC guy.”

  Ingvar worked hard not to smile. “IT. I’m the new tech guy.”

  I stuck my hand out. “Nice to meet you, Ingvar. I have to ask. How are you going to get all of that stuff to work up here? IT has never done that well up here.”

  He sank into himself a little, like the sudden attention was overwhelming. “Mostly landlines, some heavy insulating, and a strong dose of magic. The electromagnetics here are not conducive to good connections, as you know, but my team has been working on it, and I believe we’ve come up with a solution.”

  “Excellent.” I looked at my uncle again. “Finally joining the rest of the world, are we? I like it.”

  “Your aunt told me if she couldn’t get better access to something called Pintermost—”

  “I think you mean Pinterest.”

  He waved a hand. “Whatever it is. She likes it and it’s only on the interweb, apparently.”

  I rolled my lips in to keep from laughing outright. “Well, good for you for making her happy.”

  He sighed. “It’s easier.” He went back to the plans and the elves in front of him. “Expand that office, add a third-floor breakroom, and let’s break ground.”

  “You got it, Santa.” The elf in charge rolled up the plans, tucked them under his arm, then directed his crew to the elevator.

  Ingvar gave a little wave as he left. I waved back, then turned to my uncle. “All right. We’re ready to interrogate.”

  He looked at his pocket watch. “Your timing is perfect. The tinkers should be waiting.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Uncle Kris straightened. “They’re in the mezzanine focus group rooms. At least, they should be. Let me check.” He went to his desk and pushed a button on the intercom. “Mamie, are you here?”

  Mamie’s voice came crackling back at him. She was eighty-five if she was a day, but winter elves who never left the North Pole tended to age very slowly. Spry was Mamie’s middle name. (Actually, I think it was Belle, but you get my drift.) She had been my uncle’s secretary since before I was born, but her real claim to notoriety was that she’d been married seven times. Or eight. Hard to keep track. “Yes, sir, I’m here.”

  “Good, good. Have the tinkers arrived?”

  “I just checked them in.”

  “We’ll be down. Go on ahead and meet us there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He held up a finger to Sin and me. “Just a moment. I would prefer if you let me speak to them first. You can watch and listen, but I need to talk to them first. See what I can get out of them. Mamie will record it all for reference.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Going to use some of that Kringle intimidation?”

  “Possibly.” He sighed. “I’m hoping I won’t have to.”

  Sin’s brows rose, and his expression turned skeptical. “You seem too nice to be intimidating. Which I mean as a compliment.”

  Uncle Kris put his hands on his belly and laughed. “I understand. But there’s more to me than just being a jolly old elf, I promise.”

  Sin held his hands up. “I believe you. No one builds an empire like this without being able to bring the hammer down on occasion.”

  Uncle Kris tapped the side of his nose. “Exactly, my boy, exactly.”

  We followed him to his personal elevator. He pushed the call button, and the doors opened immediately. This car went wherever he wanted. We got on, then he pushed M and down we went.

  He crossed his arms over his belly. “I called Constable Larsen. I figured we ought to have her on hand, just in case one of the tinkers confesses.”

  Sin spoke right up. “You think that’s a possibility?”

  “I think anything is possible, but I don’t really expect a confession. Having the constable there will add an extra layer of officialness to the proceedings. Her presence will also prevent any future questions about how things were done. Not that I expect that sort of thing, but one can’t be too careful. We’ve never had anything like this happen before.”

  The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened, but my uncle made no move to get out. “Both of these tinkers are good men with bright minds and strong work ethics. They wouldn’t be tinkers otherwise. But something isn’t right.” He sighed as if a great weight pressed down on him. “I don’t want either of them to be guilty of cheating, but we have to get to the bottom of this.”

  I put my hand on his arm. “We will. And who knows? Maybe it really is just the biggest coincidence ever.”

  Uncle Kris smiled weakly. “It’s not, Jayne. We both know that.”

  I returned the weak smile and added a limp shrug. “I know.”

  Pain etched his gaze, and I hurt for him. He was, after all, the most famous tinker who worked here. I knew how deeply this had to cut him. Beyond any other kind of elf who inhabited the NP, the tinkers were his people.

  Proving Sin was not to blame was big. But putting the smile back on my uncle’s face was also important. Christmas was coming. Santa had to be happy.

  He headed toward the focus group rooms, and we followed behind. Sin shot me a concerned look and tipped his head at my uncle like he was asking if Uncle Kris was okay.

  I shook my head. He wasn’t. And he wouldn’t be until this was fixed.

  Constable Larsen met us in the focus group area. The rooms were mostly used with kids to test out prototype toys, so while the bright colors worked in that regard, it made for an odd place to question the tinkers about possible cheating.

  Larsen had her thumbs hooked in her uniform belt. She looked good in the dark gray outfit. Better than her predecessor, Constable Ray. He’d gotten quite the paunch over the years and had started to look more like a snowman than an officer of the law. Not all elves had the metabolism of a hummingbird. My uncle was proof of that.

  Ray had lost interest in the job too. He’d been successfully encouraged to take an earlier retirement. Something that hadn’t actually taken a lot of encouragement.

  Larsen, on the other hand, was three years into the job and still very eager. She’d been on the force for nearly eighteen years, so she wasn’t a rookie by any means. Very by-the-book and on top of it. I was glad to see her. I had a feeling she’d be all over this investigation considering how little actual crime happened in the NP.

  “Constable Larsen, nice to see you. This is my boyfriend, Sinclair Crowe.”

  He put his hand out. “Constable.”

  She gave him a quick once-over as she took his hand. “Sinclair. I’ve heard about you. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “I’m sure everyone has heard about me by now. I promise, I’m not bad magic. Nice to meet you too.”

  Her expression remained the same. Mostly neutral, but with a hint of cynicism. “Everyone’s innocent until proven otherwise.” She squinted at Sin a little. Like she was reevaluating her first impression. Or something. “But I’m sure Princess Frost wouldn’t associate with anyone whose character was less than exemplary. You’re not high on my suspect list.”

  I stared at her. “I wasn’t aware there was a suspect list. Other than the two tinkers.”

  “Always be prepared,” she said. “That’s my motto.”

  I had always liked Constable Larsen, but she was starting to rub me the wrong way. I knew it was because of her crack about Sin and the suspect list, but really, how had she expected me to react to that? “That’s the Boy Scout motto, actually.”

  My uncle cleared his throat. “Mamie should be here…”

  “Right here, boss.” She walked out of the first observation room, her standard narrow skirt and sweater set in a monotone rose pink. A slim strand of North Pole crystal beads, a gift from Uncle Kris on her fif
tieth anniversary of employment, sparkled at her throat.

  “Good, good.” My uncle rubbed his hands together. “I’m going in to speak to the tinkers, one at a time. Mamie will go in with me to take notes. You three can watch from the observation room, and then we can discuss going in to talk to them further.”

  “I’ve already taken their statements,” Larsen said.

  Uncle Kris stared at her, the reddening of his cheeks a sign of his unhappiness. “I left specific instructions that no one was to talk to them until I did.”

  Larsen stared back, unapologetic. “This is a serious matter. I deemed it in the best interests of justice to take official statements before anything happened that might color their memories of the incident.”

  Uncle Kris’s cheeks now bore two spots of bright apple red. “Color their memories? I wasn’t going to feed them stories to tell you. My plan was to get their side of things without any interference.”

  Larsen nodded. “And I did that. I’ll have the reports typed up and messaged over to you as soon as they’re done.”

  Uncle Kris leaned in and, in a very controlled voice, simply said, “You are on the naughty list.”

  Mamie’s brows shot up as her mouth puckered.

  Larsen went very, very pale. “Sir, I didn’t mean—”

  “You knew what I wanted to be done, and you did what you wanted instead. I do not appreciate that. I expect those reports immediately. You’re dismissed.”

  The muscles in her jaw twitched, and you could almost hear her teeth grinding. She wasn’t happy, but she knew when to keep her mouth shut. With a nod and a glance at us, she left.

  Mamie cleared her throat, her steno pad and pen in hand. She took a long look at the three of us. “I guess we should get on with it.”

  I lifted my index finger and shot her a quick “hang on” look. My uncle’s temper wasn’t something to be trifled with, but I felt I had to say something. Plus, I had more leeway there than most. “Um, Uncle Kris? Do you really think you should have done that? Sure, she went against your orders, but I mean, she is the law around here. I don’t think we should make an enemy of her, you know?”