“I like it,” said Chase. “It’s… art.”
“Some art,” Gran growled. “I suppose it’s European. French, probably. Like the Eiffel Tower. Another monstrosity.”
“The Eiffel Tower is not a monstrosity,” I said. “It’s romantic.”
“It’s a giant metal tower! There’s nothing romantic about it!”
“Well, I think it is. And I would like to visit Paris once—spend a romantic weekend there.”
Chase gave me a smile. “Oh, you would, would you?”
“Sure. Strut along the Champs Elysées, sit on the bank of the Seine. Visit Montmartre.”
“We’ll have to do that sometime,” said Chase, hugging me close. I took a sip from his glühwein. Pretty good.
“So what does this grandfather of yours look like?” asked Gran. “Probably some doddering old nutcase with a fake beard, huh?”
“Actually he looks exactly like Santa,” I said. “Even more than Dan.”
“Just make sure Dan doesn’t hear you say that, honey,” said Mom. “He’s still your editor.”
“Well, it’s true,” I said. “Kris is a much better-looking Santa than Dan ever was.”
“He is, isn’t he?” asked Chase. “He could actually be the real Santa.”
“Sure he is, Chaser,” I said with a grin.
He rolled his eyes. “Please don’t call me that. I stopped chasing girls away a long time ago.”
“I kinda like it,” I admitted. “As long as it’s all the other girls you chase away, not me.”
“You have my word on that,” he said, pressing a kiss to my lips.
And then the moment had finally arrived. The Mayor mounted a makeshift stage in front of the big Christmas tree—that wasn’t a tree—and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen. Dear fellow Hampton Covians. It is my honor and my privilege to introduce to you the new Santa of Hampton Cove. The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Here is… Santa!”
With remarkably sprightly step, Kris climbed the stage and waved at the crowd. There was a momentary hush when he appeared, then everybody started clapping and cheering.
“Hey, you were right,” said Mom. “He is the perfect Santa. Well done, Chase.”
“Oh, thanks, Marge,” said Chase, though it wasn’t really his credit to take.
“Not so fast!” a voice suddenly rang out, and we all watched as Dan Goory walked onto the stage and joined the Mayor and the new Santa.
“Oh, for the love of Mike!” said the Mayor. Then he reached out a hand like a traffic warden. “Now wait a minute, Dan. We talked about this.”
“I want to make an announcement!” Dan insisted, ignoring the Mayor. He unfolded a piece of paper, then placed his half-moon glasses on his face.
“You must be Dan,” said Kris, and walked up to his predecessor with outstretched hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Yeah, well,” muttered Dan, staring at the offered hand for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then, finally, he took it and shook it. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, too, Kris.”
“Only good things, I hope,” said Kris with a laugh.
“I wanted to ask you a few questions, Kris,” said Dan, a little stiffly.
Uh-oh. Dan stared out across the crowd of hundreds, all watching him intently. Right in front of him, a bunch of kids stood gaping up at the stage, drinking in his every word. He turned to Kris.
“Have you had a great trip from the North Pole, Santa?”
A collective sigh of relief could be heard, and Kris said, “Ho ho ho. I had a great trip, Dan!”
Dan stuffed his prepared speech back into his pocket and said, “I would like to officially welcome Santa to Hampton Cove. And wish him all the best! Long live Santa!”
And, like an umpire, he held up Santa’s arm. Kris patted the previous Santa on the back, and said, “Thanks, Dan. I’m very happy to be here, and I’m touched by your hospitality.”
Dan nodded. “You really are a great Santa, Santa, and I hope when you do your rounds tonight, you will think of me, too.”
“Oh, I most certainly will, Dan. At least…” he winked at the kids in the first row. “If you’re on my Nice list!”
Dan smiled indulgently. “I’m sure I am, Santa. I’m sure I am.”
“I’m not so sure,” Gran muttered. “Can we go home? All these Santas are creeping me out.”
And thus ended the introduction of Kris Kingsley as Hampton Cove’s new Santa. When I got home, Max and Dooley were nowhere to be found, but by the time I returned to stuff their stockings with goodies and treats, they were both on the rug again, looking exhausted and cold. Just as I was stuffing Dooley’s sock, Max opened his eyes. I placed my finger against my lips and gestured at Dooley, who was the baby in the Poole cat menagerie, and still believed in Santa. Max nodded and smiled happily, then went right back to sleep. I had no idea what they’d been up to, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’d tried to catch a glimpse of Santa. I could have told them they were about to meet Santa in the flesh, as Mom had invited Kris to spend Christmas with us tomorrow. At least when he was done with all the activities the council had planned for him.
And as I lay my head on my pillow, Chase snuggled up to me.
“Finally,” he muttered. “I thought you’d never get back, Miss Spume.”
“Had to get the cats their Christmas treats, Mr. Chaser,” I said, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
“You really love those cats, don’t you?”
“I do,” I admitted. “They’re my babies.”
“So you still want me to sneak out of here undetected before dawn?”
“Yes, I do.” I wanted Max and Dooley to get used to the idea of Chase moving in, and something told me that might take some time.
“The things I do for love,” murmured Chase.
“Love?” I asked, a ripple of excitement trembling through me.
But the big, burly cop had fallen asleep again. Love. Now if that wasn’t a Christmas miracle.
THE END
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Read Purrfect Christmas Mystery and Purrfect Christmas Miracle for FREE to find out what Max and Dooley were up to while Odelia and Chase were out searching for Kris Kingsley and Santa: click HERE.
Excerpt from Purrfect Crime (The Mysteries of Max 5)
Prologue
Donna Bruce was a woman profoundly in love with herself. From personal experience she knew there was no other person as amazing as she was. She was smart, successful, beautiful, and, above all, she was kind to humans, children and dogs, which cannot be said about everyone. She was a giver, not a taker. In fact she gave so much she often wondered if people appreciated her enough.
Her kids, for instance, could probably love her more for all the sacrifices she had made. For one thing, they’d pretty much ruined her figure. After the twins were born, something strange but not very wonderful had happened to her hips. They’d never looked the same again. And when she saw what breastfeeding did to her boobs, she’d vowed never to fall into that horrible trap again.
She now carefully tucked her golden tresses beneath the pink shower cap, wrapped the white towel embroidered with her company’s crest—a nicely rendered tiara—around her perfectly toned and tanned body, and stepped into the sauna cabin. She had the cabin installed only six months ago as a special treat to herself when donna.vip, the lifestyle website she’d launched a decade ago, had topped 200 million in revenue.
She languidly stretched out on the authentic Finnish wood bench, took a sip from her flute of Moët & Chandon Dom Perignon, and closed her eyes. She’d just done a conference call with her CEO and now it was time to relax. Later today she had a session with her private fitness coach scheduled, and to top it all off she was going to treat herself to a healing massage as well. Time to get pampered!