The Blonde Before Christmas: a Barb Jackson Mysteries holiday short story Read Free Page A

little tykes the hell out of the mall before their Christmas was ruined was just fine with me.
    The truth is, and I'll deny it if you tell anyone because I have a tough-girl image to uphold, I have a slight, tiny really, weak spot for small children.
    Especially around the holidays.
    The little round man who I assumed was the mall supervisor waved his arms in an attempt to reclaim the crowd's attention, then continued.
    "The mall will also be closing early tonight. In five minutes, to be exact."
    The crowd booed and groaned their displeasure. I pictured this scene turning ugly really quickly. I hoped that the presence of the kids would keep tempers from flaring out of control.
    Holiday shoppers don't play around. Especially on the eve of Christmas Eve.
    The man held up one hand while he continued speaking. "We will post a time to meet Santa on the marquee sign outside beside the main doors tomorrow morning. Please pay for any purchases you might have, and make your way to the nearest exit. Thank you, and once again, we're extremely sorry for any inconvenience you have suffered. Merry Christmas."
    The guy hopped down quickly and hurried away from the buzzing crowd. I watched as he approached a pair of security guards who quickly nodded in my general direction.
    The crowd was in an uproar, making their frustrations known to anyone who would listen, but they were slowly making their way toward the exit. With any luck, the biggest part of the crowd would be gone before the cops, coroner, and crime scene investigators showed up.
    "That went over better than I expected," Eric said. "I need to touch base with the rest of my guys and the supervisor. Will the two of you be all right?"
    Kelly and I looked at each other and barely contained the urge to roll our eyes. We were women, not easily frightened little girls.
    "I think we'll be fine," I said.
    "The cops will be here any minute, and I'm sure they'll have questions, so we'll just hang out here between the Gap and dead Santa," Kelly agreed sarcastically.
    Eric smiled and then walked away.
    I'll admit it. I watched him walk away. He was a good-looking man, and I wasn't blind. So sue me.
    "What do you think happened to him?" Kelly asked once we were alone.
    "I don't have a clue," I said. "If it weren't for the cuts on his face, and assuming that he's the same Santa I saw in the parking lot downing a fifth of Jack Daniels while on my way to visit Mona this morning, I'd say he passed out under there and just never woke up."
    "But the cotton snow and prop presents are kicked around, and you're right. He has a lot of cuts on his face. There's no way he found his way under there on his own," Kelly said and nibbled on her bottom lip.
    "I agree. But who knows? This isn't our case."
    A minute or so later four uniformed officers walked in and met up with the security guards. Kelly and I watched as they talked to the mall supervisor and security guard Eric. They all stared in our direction. There was a bunch of nodding and I'm assuming uh-huhs flying around if the expressions on the men's faces were of any indication.
    The mall was pretty much clear of patrons. The only people that I could see left milling about were the security guards, shop owners closing up their businesses, and Santa's helpers in their green elf costumes with red-and-white striped stockings and pointy belled shoes. And, of course, the newly arrived police.
    "Mandy's going to be glad she missed this." Kelly grinned at me.
    "I don't know." I smirked. "Finding a dead guy might be preferable to her loud house guests. I know she loves her family, but they can get a little rowdy."
    A little rowdy was a major understatement where Mandy's family was concerned.
    It was inching up on the ten o'clock mark. I had planned on binging on pizza and Christmas movies tonight. Instead I was standing around waiting on the police to ask their questions. I didn't see us getting home until the wee hours of the morning.
    "And here they come,"