Chasing Tinsel (Miranda Vaughn Mysteries) Read Free Page A

the guilt was now eating me up. What if he wasn’t bringing dinner because he couldn’t afford it? The Santas weren’t paid much for their time.  
    I doubled back to the Santa display and motioned to one of the elves, whose tag said he was Kevin.  
    “Hey, what time is Murph taking his dinner break?” I asked.  
    “You mean Santa ?” Kevin said, a sneer in his voice and on his face.  
    “Sure, whatever. What time?” Something about this elf rubbed me the wrong way.  
    “His break’s at 6:45. He gets twenty minutes,” he said.  
    “That’s not enough time to eat dinner,” I said.  
    Kevin shrugged and walked off. He had a lot of attitude for a kid wearing green tights. I looked at my watch. It was 5:30. I’d probably take my own dinner around the same time as Murph. But first, I had one more bit of Christmas shopping to do. I jogged off to the seasonal ornament store that opened as soon as the Halloween store closed each year.  
    The store was packed to the gills with Christmas ornaments and all manner of holiday decor. I was looking for something in particular, and I knew the store would have it.  
    I wove through the narrow path between the fake trees, all of which were decked out with ornaments for sale, and headed toward a display case in the back. This was where the delicate glass ornaments were kept, away from grabby little hands and swinging shopping bags.  
    My eyes skimmed over the shiny collection until I spotted one that made me smile. It was a tiny cake plate with a stack of petite decorated cakes under a clear glass dome. Each sweet was intricately painted and topped with a bow. Aunt Marie had been collecting the glass ornaments for most of my life, and each year since I'd gotten my first job I’d added to her collection. This one was perfect for her.  
    The clerk rang up my purchase, and I winced at the price but handed over my debit card. Aunt Marie had raised me since I was three years old. She was a wonderful and attentive mother to me and still managed to build the Sugar Plum Bakery into a successful business. She deserved this and so much more. Sarah was just going to have to hang on a little longer and pray that I didn’t have to make a hard left in the Golf Ball anytime soon.
    My shiny gift-bag in hand, I moved quickly to the escalator to go up to the food court. As it ascended, I took in the view of the mall, all decked out in holiday trappings. From here, I could see the mall’s centerpiece, a large ornate carousel at the junction of the four halls, each as wide as a city street. The twinkling white lights reflected off its mirrors as it rotated slowly. The sight warmed my heart and rekindled fond memories of riding the painted horses for a few coins. Parents waved to their kids from the fence encircling the amusement ride, and I remembered Aunt Marie doing that with me.  
    The mall was packed with families doing their last-minute shopping, but the feeling was festive, not hectic. Prospect Point was a longtime local tradition that hit its stride in the 1980s. Even though it had lost some stores, it was still a destination for families who couldn’t afford valet parking for a visit to Santa. Sure, a lot of it looked a little worse for wear, but the shoppers were still happy and—
    My defense of Prospect Point Mall was interrupted as the escalator ground to a slow, stuttering stop. In front of me, the shoppers started walking up the escalator steps to the food court as if nothing were out of the ordinary. I followed, not hearing anyone complain, at least not too loudly.  
    Five minutes later, I was taking the escalator back down to the store, now juggling my dinner as well as the gift. After storing the items in the break room, I hurried back to the cosmetics department before Jeff realized that I’d taken more than the ten minutes allotted for breaks. Breanna was leaning against the counter, peering into the mirror. As I got closer, I saw that she was putting false