Santa's Posse

by Rosemarie Naramore

  “Miles, you look awful!” she said.

  “You look awful!” Dolores cried.

  “You do look awful,” one of the deputies confirmed.

  “I think I’m dying,” he said.

  “Typical man,” Dolores said with a disgusted snort, and turned to Kellie. “This is all your fault!”

  ***

  “Okay, look, I’ll be gone about an hour,” Kellie told Miles, who was bundled up on his couch. “You just rest and I’ll bring you some soup later.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said, sounding nasal and cranky.

  “Hey, you were there for me when I was sick,” she said. “I owe you. Besides, I’m the one who got you sick.”

  “You didn’t mean to,” he said, sounding plugged up and sleepy, and the slightest bit accusatory.

  After saying goodbye, Kellie hurried outside and found her brothers in Keith’s idling SUV, waiting for her. He shifted into drive and she directed him to a nearby restaurant. There, she checked her watch constantly, since she wondered how Miles was faring. She knew first hand how bad he was feeling, since she wasn’t entirely over the illness herself.

  “You seem preoccupied,” Keith said, nudging her side with his elbow. “So, fess up. You like the commander, eh?”

  She was surprised by the question. “Well, I…”

  “Kellie—has—a—boyfriend,” Keith said in an annoying, sing-song voice, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Miles is not my boyfriend.” She took a deep breath. Keith was behaving like a pre-adolescent, rather than a man of forty-two. With some difficulty, she resisted the urge to clock him upside his head. He had always delighted in teasing her, but she was simply not in the mood.

  He glanced around the table at his brothers. “Obviously she likes him. I saw the way she looked at him. I’d suggest we do a background check on ‘im, but presumably he passed one already, since he’s a cop.”

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t do a little interrogation of our own,” Kyle suggested, bringing a fist against the palm of his other hand.

  “We should probably ask him his intentions,” Ken suggested. “He might need some clarification.”

  “Hey, over here! Stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here—as if I were still sixteen. I didn’t need bodyguards then and I certainly don’t need them now,” Kellie groused.

  Keith gave a hearty laugh and slapped the tabletop, snaring his brothers’ gazes one by one. “Remember when she was in high school, how we dug the hole in the backyard—rectangular and six-feet deep? Remember how we told her prospective boyfriends that there was a ready-made grave in the backyard.”

  “Remember that one guy you hated,” Kyle remembered, laughing menacingly. “You carved his name on a piece of wood and set it as a headstone.”

  “Never saw him again,” Keith laughed.

  “Yeah, and hey, thanks,” Kellie said drolly. “I liked him, and thanks to you guys I never got a date to the prom—any prom! Or any other dance, for that matter! You guys were scary! You’re still scary!”

  Keith feigned contrition. “Sorry, little sis.”

  She wasn’t fooled. Not in the least.

  “Seriously, though,” Keith began, “are you dating this guy? Is he your boyfriend?”

  She shook her head. “We’re not dating, and he is not my boyfriend.”

  “But … you like him?” he persisted.

  “I mean, okay, yes, I like him, but do I need a … boyfriend?” She crunched her face in contemplation, but roused herself. “I mean, no, probably not. I’m busy, he’s busy, we’re both busy…” She glanced off into the distance, at a point beyond her brothers’ heads, actually forgetting they were there. “I have to do well in this job. Who has time for romance?” she asked herself. “I certainly don’t have time for romance. Frankly, neither does he…”

  Keith watched her through narrowed eyes, understanding right away that his sister was grappling with conflicting emotions. He’d seen her go through similar misgivings in the past. She’d always been so focused, in both high school and later, college, and had resisted serious romantic entanglements. But, she wasn’t getting any younger.

  “You’re missing out, sis,” he said, suddenly serious. “Don’t you want someone to share your life with?”

  “I…” She sighed. “I’m just so busy. I’m worried about taking time away from my job.”

  “You’re entitled to a personal life,” Ken said.

  “You’re busy? So what?” Keith added. “Who isn’t? The truth is, he seems like a good guy, and frankly, it’s about time you thought about settling down. I can’t speak for your other brothers, but I, for one, am tired of worrying about you.”

  With the exception of Kevin, the youngest, the others echoed their agreement, prompting her to give each of them a dirty look.

  “Well, don’t worry about me then,” she said. “Who asked you to worry about me?”

  “Can’t help it,” Kyle said. “You’re our little sister. It’s part of the job description.”

  “Yeah,” echoed Ken. “We know you’re tough as nails, but you are one tiny little girl. And we’re hours up the road.” He shook his head. “We just can’t protect you adequately, considering the distance.”

  “I’m a woman,” she said in a surly tone, enunciating the word. “I’m not a little girl, and I certainly don’t need protection. I’m almost thirty, by the way.”

  “Then it is time for you to settle down,” Keith said, and then cried with alarm. “Are you really almost thirty?” He did the calculations in his head. “Geez, if you’re thirty, then I’m about to turn forty.”

  “You were forty … two years ago,” she said drolly.

  “He does seem like a decent guy,” Kevin, the youngest, said, directing his words to her. “I could see he wasn’t pleased to see these jerks shoving you around at the mall. I thought he was going to punch Keith in the jaw.”

  “Really?” Keith said approvingly. “Good. Maybe I won’t have to worry so much if she gets involved with this guy.” He pinned her with a gaze. “You plan on getting involved, right? I could really use a break from the worry. And Mom,” he added, “she needs a break too. She’s tired of fending off questions from her friends about your lack of a husband. You really owe Mom, and us, some peace of mind.”

  “This is my life, guys,” she reminded them.

  Keith gave no more notice to her words than a gnat buzzing around his head and addressed his brothers instead. “Mom will be glad to hear she’s dating.”

  “I’m … not … dating!”

  Ignoring her, he continued, “She could do worse. The guy’s a cop—a commander. He makes a good living. If she marries him, with their combined incomes, she’d do just fine.”

  “And he’s not too ugly,” Kyle observed. “Hopefully, the kids will take after us. Besides, looks aren’t everything.”

  “He’s gorgeous!” Kellie cried, but reddened when she realized she’d spoken out loud.

  The boys glanced at one another around the circular table, communicating without words.

  “Stop that!” she insisted. “And I need to get home. Miles is sick and I promised I’d bring him chicken soup.”

  “Well, there you go,” Keith declared. “She likes him. She’s willing to risk her own health nursing him back to health. Now there’s a foundation for true love,” he said with a crisp shake of his head. “Commendable,” he added.

  “Oh, good grief,” she said. “I’m the one who got him sick in the first place.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  After a heated discussion about how she’d gotten Miles sick, and with assurances it hadn’t involved any bodily contact with the commander from which either had garnered any pleasure, Kellie bid a farewell to her brothers. On one hand, she was thrilled to see them go, and on the other, she wished they could stay longer. She supposed it was like that with most families.

  At the restaurant, she had ordered chicken soup for Miles, figuring the restaurant-m
ade variety would have more taste than canned. She arrived at his door, tapped lightly, and entered. He was dozing on the couch.

  She hated to wake him. She crossed the room and stood silently by, grappling with whether or not to disturb him. The decision was made for her. He apparently sensed her presence, since he woke up.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Terrible,” he croaked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “Well, it kind of is,” she said, wincing. “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  “Too bad for you,” she said cheerily. “You made me eat soup, and now it’s your turn.”

  She hurried into his kitchen, found a bowl, and dumped the soup from the container. After heating it in the microwave, she carried it to him. “Eat as much as you can.”

  He tasted the soup. “It’s good.”

  When she reached to check his forehead for fever, he nearly dropped a spoonful of the soup. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “You’re burning up.”

  He sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything in the medicine cabinet for fever—or pain.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, and dashed across the parking lot to her condo. On the way there, she caught sight of movement to her left. She turned, spotted a figure behind a column, but ignored it in her haste to get to her medicine cabinet.

  Inside her condo, she found a bottle of ibuprofen and dashed back outside. She paused long enough to assure her door was locked, and then hurried back to Miles’ place. Once again, she caught sight of a man, but this time, she spotted a second figure hastily duck behind a column as well. He wore a cap that reminded her of a one she’d seen before. There was something familiar about both men, though she couldn’t readily make out their faces in the muted light cast by the street lamps.

  She paused briefly, but dismissed the men again and entered Miles’ condo. She found he’d eaten about half the soup, but had left the bowl on the coffee table. Picking it up, she asked him if he’d finished.

  “It was good, thank you,” he said.

  She picked up the bowl, dropped it into the kitchen sink, and then grabbed a cup for water. She gave him the medicine with the water and then sat down beside him on the couch, drawing her feet up beneath her. “Anything I can do for you?” she asked, and then remembered the hot lemon he had served her when she was sick. “Would you like some hot lemon?”

  He shook his head. “No thanks.”

  “It helped me,” she told him.

  He shook his head again. “No, my throat hurts too much to drink anything else.” He tipped his head back and closed his eyes briefly before opening them and catching her gaze. “I’m pretty sure I’m dying,” he told her with a wan grin.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure this is the end,” he said, moving his head up and down in measured intervals.

  “Keep your eyes peeled for the bright light,” she said, biting back a chuckle.

  “Turn on a lamp. I’ll hurl myself at it,” he said drolly.

  She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Do you want me to go so you can sleep?”

  “No.”

  “You want me to stay then?”

  He nodded. “I’d hate to die alone.”

  “So you said you don’t get sick often?”

  “Never. Well, rarely.”

  “Good thing,” she murmured. “Good thing.”

  ***

  The next morning, as Kellie was leaving for work, she spotted Miles walking slowly from his condo and to his unmarked patrol car. He was dressed in his uniform. Was he really going to work? He was still sick.

  She hurriedly parked her car back in her space, climbed out, and moved at a clipped pace across the parking lot. He was now in the patrol car and about to start it up. She rapped on the window and he rolled it down. He glanced up with watery eyes. “Hey,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  “Hey yourself. What are you doing?”

  “Just heading to work,” he told her, checking his watch. “I’m running a little late. I’ll see you at the mall…?”

  “No, you won’t see me at the mall.”

  He cleared his throat and coughed. “Oh, you’re not going in today?”

  “No, actually, you’re not going in today.”

  He gave a rueful smile. “I have to.”

  “No, you don’t. I’m sure they can get along without you for a day or two,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I got a call first thing from dispatch. Apparently they tried to reach me last night but I slept through the phone ringing. Anyway, several cars were hit by burglars in the mall lot a few hours before closing.”

  She gasped. “Great, just great. With the extended holiday hours, I guess it’s par for the course.”

  He nodded, reaching as if to start the car. “I’ll see you. Maybe, if things aren’t too hectic today, we can have lunch.” He watched her, a hopeful expression in his eyes.

  She shook her head and reached a hand through the open window and took the keys from him. “Get out of the car, Commander.”

  “I have to go to…”

  “No, you don’t. If you don’t get yourself back into your condo and make the call to work, I’ll do it for you. Do you really think your coworkers need to catch this? Or the public at large? Well?”

  “Hey, you went into work when you were…”

  She waved off his objections. “Those were extenuating circumstances. Black Friday happens once a year, crime never stops.”

  Perhaps he read the firmness to her tone and realized she wouldn’t be deterred, or more likely he remembered forcing her to leave work and return home when she was ill. Regardless, he complied, climbing out of the patrol car and locking the door behind him.

  He paused, giving her a chagrined smile. “You’re kind of bossy.”

  After ushering him into his apartment and insisting he change out of his uniform—she wasn’t leaving until he did—she took stock of the contents of his refrigerator. “You need groceries,” she said, when he came out of his bedroom dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. “Have you had breakfast?”

  He nodded. “I’m fine.”

  She closed the refrigerator door. “I’ll bring you lunch around noon. Go to sleep until then,” she advised.

  “I’m fine,” he told her, smiling patiently.

  “No, I’m afraid you’re not. This is Day Two of this particular plague.” She made a face. “Today is the worst of it, tomorrow not much better, but after that, you’ll feel a bit better.”

  “It gets worse?” he asked, horrified at the prospect.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, giving him a shoring smile. “Anyway, go to bed. Sleep. Trust me. Sleep if the very best thing.”

  He dropped onto the couch, watching her with a bemused grin.

  “Oh, before I go, call in to work.”

  He gave a dismissive wave. “I will after you leave.”

  “No, you’ll do it now. I know you.”

  “Oh, yeah? You know me?” he said in a teasing voice.

  She chose to ignore the remark. “Call in now, so I’ll know that you’re excusing yourself for the whole day. Heck, you may as well tell them you won’t be in tomorrow either.”

  He laughed, and then coughed. “Who knows? I might wake up tomorrow, fully restored to good health.” He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders.

  “Yeah, okay, we’ll see, but make the call now.” She checked her watch. When he made no move to pick up the phone, she pinned him with a look. “Make the call. I have to get to work.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I think I get why the mall folks hired you.”

  After he’d made the call, she glanced around the apartment, and then to the couch. “You’re going to need blankets if you stay there,” she told him.

  He gave her a perplexed look.
r />   “Chills are on the agenda,” she assured him.

  “Oh, they’ve already arrived,” he said with a wince. “I thought I was going to freeze to death last night.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it.

  He waved off the apology, but shivered dramatically. She wasn’t sure if it was a legitimate case of the chills or if he was teasing her. She watched him with concern. “Where do you keep your extra blankets?”

  “Linen closet.”

  “In the hallway, by the guest bathroom?”

  He nodded.

  She hurried to grab him several blankets and then returned, tucking one and then another around him. She stood back. “Okay, that should keep you warm. Anything you need before I go?”

  He grinned cheekily and shivered again. “Sure you don’t want to stick around to keep me warm?”

  She gave a mock shudder. “And risk getting sick again? I think not.”

  With a final, assessing glance, she turned to go.

  “What, no kiss?” he called.

  She turned back, took stock of his face, and shook her head. “No way. I’ll be dousing myself with hand sanitizer post haste, and driving with my windows open. Maybe any germs that might have landed on me will blow off.”

  ***

  Kellie arrived at work a few minutes late and found Jill standing in the doorway to the executive offices. By the expression on her assistant’s face, she could see something was wrong.

  “What is it, Jill? You look upset.”

  She sighed. “Uh, first, you have a message from Mr. Barnes. He wants a meeting this morning. He’s frantic about something. Secondly, uh…”

  Kellie noted her assistant looked extremely uncomfortable. “What is it?”

  “Okay, look, so you know, I don’t believe a word of what I’m about to tell you.”

  “Okaaay…”

  “Okay, here goes. A little bird told me…”

  “A little bird…” she said with a swift shake of her head. “As in, ‘birdy the big mouth?’” she added.

  “Yeah, that one,” Jill said dismissively. “Anyway, there’s a rumor going around the mall that you and Miles, uh…”