“Granddad didn’t want you involved, didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“But this information could’ve saved his life. What was he planning to do with the photos? Do you think he confronted them and that’s why he was killed?”
Jake shrugged into his jacket. Sara fought with her coat, catching her shoulder on the seam. Frigid air nipped at her ankles. Sara looked down, tracking the bits of snow swirling across the floor. The door stood propped open with a wooden spoon. Apprehension jittered in her stomach. She turned to Jake, her coat hanging off one shoulder.
“Did you reset the alarm?”
“Of course.”
Something moved in the shadows. A flash of red caught her eye. A dark figure in a crimson cape quickly approached Jake. Sara gasped her and widened her eyes.
“Look out!”
Heart lodged in her throat, she cringed when a dull, metallic thud sounded a moment before Jake grunted. His eyes fluttered closed and he crumpled to the floor at her feet. Santa’s thin lips twisted into an evil sneer as he knelt beside Jake’s inert body, rifling his coat pockets.
She surged forward. A muffled shriek stuck in her throat when strong arms seized her from behind. Fear jump-started her system as she struggled against the crushing bear hug. Swiveling her head, she glimpsed a green pointy hat and half-mask. There were two of them.
“Jake!” Sara had to get to him. Little else mattered if she couldn’t save Jake. Leaning forward, she widened her stance. A well-placed elbow in her assailant’s solar plexus loosened his arms. She shifted her body, tugged her other arm free and smacked his jaw with her elbow.
“Let go.” Balling her hands into fists, she used her knuckles to pound the backs of his hand when his arms cinched tighter around her waist.
He shook her and she grunted. Sara rapped his hand again, his grip weakened. A fresh burst of adrenaline flooded her limbs. Jerking his index finger back, she shoved the digit to meet his wrist. He howled. Retaining her hold on his finger and wrist, she spun away from him, wrenching his arm behind his back as she went. She jumped to the side, forcing him down and yanked him forward to meet her raised knee. Groaning, he sprawled on the cement floor. One down, one to go. Sara spun on Santa and stopped short. Fear became bitter ash in her mouth. She lifted her hands, her gaze narrowing on the deadly opening of the missing revolver. So close. She slumped.
Chapter Six
“Get over there!” Santa waved his gun toward Jake’s motionless body.
She swallowed hard, what if he didn’t wake up? Panic settled in her knees and she stiffened the joints to keep her legs from knocking together. Somehow she had to distract Santa, help Jake, get away. But right now she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Fear held her in its rigid grip, her attention focused on the menacing weapon now pointed at her chest. She didn’t want to think about the damage the gun could do.
“Move!” he shouted.
She jumped, the command enough to spur her in the direction indicated as well as sparked her anger. “Or what? You’ll shoot me?” she challenged, chin raised in defiance.
“All you had to do was mind your own business, but instead you got involved,” Santa said.
His voice? She tilted her head to the side. Where had she heard his voice? Jake moaned. Relief flooded her limbs. He was alive.
“He’s not moving! Why did you hit him so hard?” Knees jittering, Sara drew an unsteady breath and knelt beside Jake. She snuck a glance over her shoulder. The gloved hand holding the gun never wavered. She gulped. Somehow she had to stall.
“C’mon, honey. You gotta get up or Santa’s gonna shoot us both,” she murmured.
His eyes fluttered open and focused on her. Wincing, he put a hand to the back of his head. “What?”
She sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Tears misted her vision as she stroked his face. “Please, Jake.” She curled her fingers in his shirt and pulled him to sitting.
He grabbed her wrists. “What are you doing?”
She held his gaze, confusion stared back at her, before understanding bloomed. “Helping you up.” Squatting beside him, she draped his arm around her shoulders and wrapped her hands around his waist. Jake’s head rolled to her shoulder.
If she didn’t get him on his feet, Santa might squeeze the trigger and she didn’t want that. She glanced at him. “Are you with me?” His head bobbed on her shoulder. Drawing a deep breath, she struggled beneath his weight.
Sara gasped as they slipped in a puddle of water and fell—hard. She sprawled across him, and Jake closed his arms around her as he panted for air. It was several heart-stopping moments before he breathed normally again. He still didn’t release her.
She frantically clutched his shirt. Santa had inched closer with his gun now aimed at Jake. “What are you doing?”
“Ow,” he moaned.
“Stop playing around and get up!” Santa ordered.
She glared at the man with the white mustache and beard, and then glanced over her shoulder at Santa’s elf, still writhing on the floor. At least that jerk got what he deserved.
For a moment panic washed through her, stealing what precious courage she had left. This could be her last Christmas. Killed by Santa Claus and an incompetent elf. She blinked back tears. This was not the holiday she envisioned. Hesitating, she eyed the red suit. Her assailant had taken something pure and innocent and perverted it for his own twisted use. The thought was enough to rekindle her earlier anger. Last Christmas or not, she had to fight.
If only Santa didn’t have that gun! She looked him up and down, weighing her options. There was no way she could get to him before he shot her or, worse Jake. Instead, she tossed her hair from her face and fixed him with a contemptuous stare. “Jake’s hurt. You’ve probably given him a concussion. He needs a doctor.”
Santa scoffed. “Pick him up!”
She peered into Jake’s face, his dark lashes rested against his cheeks. She caressed his jaw, fearful he may have passed out. “Jake? Can you hear me?”
He opened his eyes and flashed a quick smile before the expression dissolved into a grimace. “What did he hit me with?”
“A gun.”
Jake sat up, leaning on her for support. Drawing a deep, breath Sara helped him to his feet. Once they stood, Jake inserted his body between Sara and their costumed assailants. “Let her go, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Jake!” she hissed, clutching the back of his shirt. She didn’t want him stepping in harm’s way on her behalf. Not while he was hurt.
He swayed on his feet. “Let her go.”
“Not a chance.” Santa flicked the barrel of his gun toward the stairs. He glanced at his elf, still thrashing on the floor. “Stop making snow angels and get up!”
The elf stood cradling his arm. “I think she broke my finger.”
A faint smile of satisfaction creased Sara’s lips. At least he was no longer a threat.
“I said you were weak. Ya’ got beat up by a girl. Suck it up.”
Sara wrapped an arm around Jake’s waist. He leaned into her. “You’re really giving the holiday a bad name,” she told Santa.
“Shut up and get moving!” Santa flicked the gun toward the stairs a second time.
“What did Jerry ever do to you?” Anger surged anew.
“He stuck his nose where it didn’t belong! Now I want what’s mine.”
Jake stumbled against her a few times before they reached the stairs. He rested against the wall, wincing as he brought a hand to the base of his skull. Sara anxiously studied his face.
“Jerry knew you were stealing from him,” she said, trying to buy Jake some time to recover. “He confronted you.”
Santa sneered beneath his beard. “All he had to do was look the other way. The loot in the boxes was never his to begin with.”
Sara stepped in front of Jake, balling her hands on her hips. “Well it certainly isn’t yours!”
Jake laid a restraining hand on her arm, once again removing her
from the line of fire.
“Goods are sweeter stolen, but you should already know that,” Santa smirked.
She stared at him in disgust. “You dishonor the suit you’re wearing.”
“Where’s your Christmas spirit?” he taunted.
“It died when Santa started stalking me,” Sara snapped.
He laughed. “Get moving or I shoot you both.”
Hooking an arm around Jake’s waist, she started them down the stairs. She glanced at him. “Are you okay?”
“I can make it.” Jake glanced over his shoulder. “How did you get in?”
“I came through the chimney.”
“At least he’s jolly,” Jake quipped. He braced a hand on the rail, leaning close to Sara. “How’s your arm?”
“Not now.”
Something hard jabbed her back. “Hey!” Annoyance made her voice sharp.
“What are you whispering about?” Suspicion colored Santa’s tone.
Jake nudged her forward, out of the line of fire. “The lights. You have to turn them on upstairs.”
She glanced at Jake sharply, what was he doing?
“Nice try. Keep moving.”
They stepped off the last riser and stood next to one of the large storage racks. Jake twined his fingers with hers. She flashed him a grateful smile. Santa walked over and turned on the light before approaching the fuse box and flipping a couple of switches. The remaining overhead lights hummed and flickered to life.
Sara’s gaze locked onto Jake’s. He nodded, the movement barely perceptible. Only bakery employees were told about the separate switches for the lights. The ones in the fuse box turned on the lights in the vault. These two were employees.
Sara shivered when Santa regarded them with a cold, malicious stare. He advanced on her, dark purpose in his eyes. She stumbled backward, meeting a hard wall of muscle. Glancing over her shoulder, Jake hooked an arm around her waist. If this was her last Christmas, at least she wasn’t alone.
“I know you have the keys to the boxes,” he said with a growl. “Open them!”
“You’re looking for the proof Jerry kept that you were stealing from him.” Jake stayed before Sara, just in front of Santa and his whimpering elf.
She swallowed hard. He would be her hero until the end, but what was he getting at? What had he figured out?
“You don’t have proof! This building has no cameras. I checked,” Santa responded standing straighter, his chest puffing out.
“None that you saw,” Jake countered. Santa deflated, the wide grin he wore moments ago dissipating. “Why else would you threaten Sara and kill my grandfather.”
“Open the boxes!”
“That could take a while.”
“I’m very patient. And when this is all over, I plan to make it look like you two suffocated in the vault.”
Jake met Sara’s gaze, before sliding his eyes away. “Let her go and I’ll do what you want.”
“Jake. No.” She shook her head, her fingers clutching his arm. She couldn’t leave him alone with this nutcase. He was injured and Santa had a gun.
“How noble of you to sacrifice yourself for your girlfriend,” Santa jeered.
Sara stifled a gasp as Jake stiffened beside her. The sleeve on Santa’s coat shifted, revealing the edges of a tattoo. Sara kept her eyes riveted on the ink. The same design from the picture, the same from her earlier attack. She touched Jake’s arm and he nodded.
She shifted her focus to the elf, still cradling his right arm. In the light, and despite the ghoulish mask, she recognized the quick dimple when he frowned. She clapped a hand over her mouth as shock and disbelief wedged in her throat. “Seth?”
He gasped, a tremor shaking his body.
Concern for her safety fled as she yanked off the mask. A flash of grief rippled through her. Seth had worked for them for four years. Betrayal squeezed her heart and left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Why?”
Guilt filled his eyes before he lowered them to the floor, his Adam’s apple bobbing compulsively. “I had no choice, Sara.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “You always had a choice, Seth. You could have said something.”
“I couldn’t...he’d have...”
“Shut up,” Santa snarled.
“Why, Seth?” she demanded, catching Jake’s nod from the corner of her eye. She stepped to her left. “You can’t even tell me why, can you?” When her question hung unanswered, Sara realized Seth wasn’t going to respond, heaviness settled more fully in her heart. She swiped at her tears. “You were family, Seth. Family!”
He swung his troubled gaze from Sara to Jake before resting his eyes on Santa. “We shouldn’t have done this. I should have just told Jerry what I needed. You forced me to take one of the statutes when all I should have done was talk to him. And now Jerry’s dead.” Seth swung his gaze to Sara. “I wasn’t here the night Jerry was killed, but he made me promise to keep it secret. He said he’d hurt my little girl.”
Sara faced Santa, the gun wavering in his hand. Jake sprang forward. He grabbed the pistol, twisting it downward as he slammed the heel of his free hand into Santa’s nose. Santa yelped. Jake yanked the weapon from Santa’s gloved hand; an audible snap rent the air. The costumed man crumpled to the floor with a shriek, holding his face. Seth stepped forward and then stopped when Jake pivoted, pointing the gun at him.
Sara stared at Jake, stunned. “Okay, where did you learn how to do that?”
“You think you’re the only one my grandfather taught how to fight?” Jake glanced at “Santa” whimpering and stemming his nosebleed with his beard. “I think we should put these guys on ice.” He pointed toward the walk-in freezer. “Inside. You can chill while we call the police.”
“You can’t put us in there,” Seth protested with a whine. “We’ll freeze.”
Jake pointed the gun at Seth’s heart. “You had no qualms about killing my grandfather. Why should I care if you freeze to death?”
For one long, tense moment Sara held her breath. She exhaled, when their two intruders grudgingly filed into the freezer. Jake slammed the door and dropped a screwdriver through the hole in the handle, locking them in.
He set the gun aside and drew Sara into his arms, cradling her against his chest. The ordeal was over. She sagged against him and wept.
Long after the police collected Santa and his Elf, aka Marty and Seth, Jake sat in the bakery office comparing the inventory his grandfather had collected to what was missing.
“All of this because Seth was losing his house and Marty found out about the diamond in the boxes,” Jake stated incredulously.
“If Seth just would’ve asked, I know Jerry would’ve helped him. He helped Tori earlier this year. He knew times were hard.” Sara swiped at her tears. “Jerry considered Seth and Marty family too.” She read the pages over Jake’s shoulder. “Whenever Jerry found something of value he gave a portion to the staff and then put the rest in a special account. He did a lot of good with that money.”
Jake clenched his fists. “None of this needed to happen.”
She placed her hand over his trembling fist before Jake slowly relaxed. “No, they didn’t have to get greedy,” she agreed. “Look at all the good Jerry left behind. He wouldn’t want people like Marty and Seth to stop us from carrying on. Even without telling us, he still protected us.”
Jake nodded. “You’re right.”
She touched the back of his neck. “How’s your head?”
“Pounding, but I’ll live.”
They fell silent to the music of the machines in the shop going through their cycles. The faint beeps and whine of engines in the morning traffic echoed through the thick walls of the bakery. The clock on the wall chimed six bells. Sara picked up the discarded ice pack and handed it to Jake. He grudgingly placed the compress on the back of his head.
She glanced around, spying a sprig of mistletoe overhead. A faint smile curved her lips. She dropped her arms around his neck and slid into his la
p. “You kept your promise. You even tried to save me.”
Jake nodded, stroking her cheek. “And I’d do it all again.”
“You didn’t let anyone steal Christmas.”
He smiled. “Forget Christmas, I didn’t want anyone stealing you.”
She searched his eyes, finding that same spark of emotion she’d seen earlier, when they almost made love. “You have that look again.”
“What look?”
“Like I’m more than just your business partner.”
She shivered when he traced her lips with his fingertip.
“You are more than just my business partner. You are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, and the woman I want to wake up with every morning to open safety deposit boxes. I love you, Sara.”
Warmth flooded her veins at his declaration. She swallowed a set of tears. “I love you, too, Jake.” She pointed upward. “I could spend a lifetime kissing you beneath the mistletoe.” She brought her mouth to his luscious lips, and he tightened his arms around her waist. She sighed. This would be her best Christmas ever.
A word about the author...
W. Lynn Chantale loves to hear from her readers. Stop in her cyber home for some tasty nibbles and a chat.
Website: http://wlynnchantale.com
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Stealing Christmas Page 5