The Case of the Missing Elf: a Melanie Hart Mystery (Melanie Hart Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Read Free

who is going to keep an eye on Santa and the children?” she demanded.
    “Ginger, a man you worked with is dead. Have a heart.”
    My comment blew right past my friend, and her scowl deepened. “How dare that man die on me?”
    “He didn’t do it to spite you.”
    “Meaning?”
    “He was apparently murdered. Poisoned.”
    Ginger mulled the information over briefly. “Doesn’t matter. I’m still the one left in the lurch.”
    “Honestly, Ginger.”
    “Hey, I’ve got a cabin to run. I can mourn the dead man later.” She glanced over at a pair of twins playing quietly in the corner. “No way around it now. I’m going to have to hire a new elf. I sure can’t spend six weeks locked up inside this cabin with that man.” She cast a disdainful look at Santa.
    “As a stopgap, why don’t you hire a high school girl to come in and help out for the weekend?”
    “That’s not a bad idea, but I’d die before I left a young girl alone with our Santa Claus.”
    I lowered my voice. “The man has vices beyond drinking?”
    “I mean, Santa not only likes gin, he has no manners at all when it comes to women… no matter what their age.”
    “No manners?”
    Ginger looked at me disbelievingly. “He likes coming on to us, okay?”
    “What about a teenaged boy, then?”
    “That might work. You don't happen to know any, do you?”
    Our receptionist was raising three teenaged sons. I was sure one of them would be willing to help out. I told Ginger so.
    She nodded. “Having someone for weekends and after school would be a plus. But it still leaves me on my own when school is in session.”
      “If you intend to hire a new elf. I’ll talk to Dad. I’m sure he’d be happy to put an ad in the paper without charge for the DBA.”
    Ginger grimaced. “The pay’s awful. The hours dreadful. I always thought we were lucky to have found Barnaby. It’ll take a miracle to get any applicants… let alone someone who might actually work out well.”
    “You won’t know until you try. And there must be someone in Cloverton who could use some extra cash. Especially at Christmas.”
    “But the costume? Who’s gonna fit into that thing?”
    “If you can’t find someone Barnaby’s size, you can always have a new costume made.”
    “At this short notice?”
    “I’ll bet you could find someone who’d be glad to stitch up a new outfit in a couple of days. In the meantime, you could pull a temporary costume together. We’re talking about kids, here. What do they know about how elves dress?”
    “You’ll write the ad?” she asked warily.
    “If I know Dad, he’ll do it up himself.”
    “That would be good. Still, this is Friday. The earliest the ad can come out is Monday. Then, mix in the time it will take me to interview the applicants... if there are any... and I could be stuck alone in this lousy place for more than a week.”
    “Beats spending all of your time here right up to Christmas day.”
    “Good point.”
    “I’ll have a word with Betty. In addition to asking after a babysitter, I’ll explain the problem with Santa. With her kids out for Thanksgiving break, one of the boys might even be able to start this afternoon.”
    “That would be wonderful. Please tell Betty I can handle Santa if one of her sons will take on the kids.”
    I shook my head in disbelief. “If Santa’s such a problem, why don’t you fire him?”
    Ginger lowered her voice to a whisper. “Because he’s the husband of the DBA president, that’s why.”
    “Valerie Farmer?”
    Ginger nodded.
    “Poor woman.”
    “You got that right.”
    A noise from the far end of the cabin caught my attention. It sounded suspiciously like snoring. Apparently our Santa had fallen into a blissful, gin-induced sleep.
    I thought about Ginger struggling through the next six weeks with a drunken Santa Claus and wished her luck. From what I’d seen so far, I figured she was going to need it.
     
    ~~~
     
    Once I made it back to the newspaper, Dad behaved