Covert Exposure (6 page)

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Authors: Valerie J. Clarizio

Tags: #crime, #homicide, #holiday season, #detective, #series, #santa, #santa claus, #social services, #santa clause, #mall santa, #child services, #clientele, #cookies for santa, #covert exposure, #dead santa, #nick spinelli, #santas little helper, #valerie j clarizio

“Okay.”

Spinelli stepped into the hall outside her
office before he heard her loud gasp. He spun on his heel and
stepped back into her office to find her staring down at what
appeared to be an eight by ten photo. She held the photo in her
right hand and the legal sized envelope in her left hand. He
watched as she dropped the envelope and used her left hand to help
steady the shaking photo. She pulled the photo closer to her
eyes.

“What is it a picture of?” he asked as he
stepped around her desk and behind her to get a better look.
Spinelli stared down at a glossy of Shannon and Santa, and several
elves, including Aaron Reed. In the photo, Santa sat on a large red
velvet chair. The elves and Shannon surrounded him.

Shannon shifted her attention from the photo
to Spinelli who stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. “It’s
a promotional photo we took at the mall last week.”

Spinelli could easily see the sadness flood
her bright emerald green eyes. She turned her attention back to the
photo. Her shoulders slumped. “Seven of us in the photo, and now
two are gone,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, Shannon.”

Shannon set the photo on her desk and picked
up the small yellow square sticky note stuck to her desktop
calendar. She reached up and handed it to Spinelli. “This was stuck
to the photo.”

He took the note from her. The note read,

Shannon, Be careful of the company you keep, things are not
always as they seem. Roland.”

He scanned the note again and then looked
down at Shannon.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about. I
don’t know who he means,” Shannon blurted in an unsteady voice,
shaking her head.

Spinelli glanced at the envelope the photo
came in. The envelope showed no return address and the date stamp
happened to be the same day Roland Hudson’s body was found. He
placed the note in front of her. “Shannon, do you recognize this
handwriting? Is it Roland’s?” he asked in a calm controlled voice
in effort to not rattle her any more than she already was.

She studied the note. “I don’t know. I don’t
recall if I ever saw anything Roland wrote.”

“Had you spent time with Roland?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, were you friends? Did you do
anything together? How well did you know him?”

Shannon thought for a moment. “I really
didn’t know him all that well. He was just a nice old man who
played Santa Claus at the mall. I only ever saw him when we worked
together the past couple of seasons.”

Spinelli shifted his eyes back to the photo.
“How about the other people in the photo? Who are they and how well
do you know them?”

Shannon stared at the photo for a moment.
“Outside of working with them I never see them. All I know about
them is their names and the fact they are college students.”

A monstrous wave of adrenaline rippled
through Spinelli’s veins moving his senses into “full alert” mode
and a tsunami of questions flooded his mind. Did Roland really send
the photo and message? If so, who, and what, exactly was he trying
to warn her about? If Roland didn’t send the package, who did? And,
how much danger was she really in?

Spinelli looked down and stared into
Shannon’s big innocent naïve eyes. Unfortunately, he knew the
answer to the most pertinent question.
Two murders equal a lot
of danger.

 

 

Chapter
Nine

 

Spinelli stood in front of the mirror and
looked at his arms as they stuck out beyond the fat suit he just
fastened to himself. He turned sideways to view himself in the
mirror before bending over to pull up the red velvet pants. The
enormous gut-roll made the task nearly impossible. He caught his
breath then bent over to pull on the big black boots he needed to
wear, again a near to impossible undertaking.

He reached into his locker and pulled out a
matching plush red velvet coat trimmed with white fur. He threw the
coat around his shoulders and buttoned it. The coat fit snugly
around his midsection. Next, he grabbed a wide black belt with a
big gold buckle, flung it around his waistline, and fastened it on
the last notch. From the shelf in the locker, he retrieved a wig
with long white wavy hair, and a red velvet hat trimmed with white
fur and tassel at the top. He tugged the wig over his head until it
felt snug then he fastened on the matching beard. Instantaneously
the beard caused his nose and face to itch.

Spinelli turned to face the mirror once
again. He couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be wearing a
Santa suit at the mall. He wanted to be an elf but there were no
elf positions available and Human Resources told him that there’s
no such thing as a six foot-two elf. As he stared at his ridiculous
self in the mirror, he could hear Captain Jackson’s laugh echo
throughout his head. He recalled the words she said to him the day
before, “Maybe playing Santa will do you some good. You know,
soften you up a bit.”

He took one last look at himself in the
mirror. He reached up under his beard and scratched his itchy chin.
“Well, working a homicide undercover as Santa beats child recovery
and placement any day,” he whispered to his reflection.

Spinelli strode out of the employee locker
room and into the busy mall, his big belly swishing from side to
side, as he walked. He didn’t recall ever being in the mall on a
Saturday during the Christmas holiday season before, and he knew it
probably wouldn’t ever happen again by choice. Hundreds of people,
mostly women with their whiny kids in tow filled the mall.

He made his way through the crowd to Santa’s
village. He took in the sight of the wintery display as he walked
through toward the red velvet chair. He glanced at the long line of
children waiting for him. Panic rippled through his body.

Spinelli walked past the snowy field of
colorful eight-foot candy canes and passed by the red sleigh
overflowing with presents. He stepped onto the low platform, which
housed his chair and took a seat. He glanced to the left where a
couple of elves stood wearing their green smocks and tights, as
well as, their pointy green hats and matching shoes which curled up
at the toes. They whispered amongst themselves in front of the
fifteen-foot Christmas tree decorated with large silver and gold
ornaments and big red bows. Glancing up he took notice of the large
sparkly silver star perched at the top of the tree. He shifted his
gaze toward the line of children who anxiously waited to see him.
Good God, how did I end up here?

A soft feminine voice rang in his ears, “Good
afternoon, Santa. How are you today?”

Spinelli glanced in the direction of the
voice to find Shannon, his little Santa’s helper. The sight of her
caused his heart to beat out of control. Never in his life had he
seen anything as beautiful as the sight he saw now. He slowly eyed
her from top to bottom starting with the big candy cane striped bow
that held her thick long wavy ponytail in place. Some of her loose
red curls dangled down over the side of her face and around her
neck, resting softly on her shoulders. The white furry trim of her
scoop neck velvet dress lay upon her chest just low enough allowing
him to catch a glimpse of the tops of her small pale breasts. A
wide black belt equipped with a big shiny gold buckle snuggled her
dress to her slim waist, causing him to take note of her hourglass
figure. Lowering his eyes further, he saw how the white furry trim
on the bottom of her dress fell several inches above her knees
exposing her slim but shapely legs.

He raised his eyes to meet hers. He locked in
on her gaze. She took a step toward him, pulled a frown, and
squinted, as if trying to figure out his identity. He quickly
released his gaze. He suddenly felt the need to keep his identity a
secret from her.

Spinelli watched as Shannon approached the
line of children. She extended her arm toward the first little boy
in line and he took her hand. “What is your name?” she asked the
boy as she walked with him toward Spinelli.

“Matthew.”

Shannon and Matthew walked up to Spinelli and
stood right in front of him. Matthew looked up at him with his big
brown eyes. Spinelli easily detected the fear in them. With as
scared as Matthew seemed, Spinelli knew Matthew’s fear level
couldn’t begin to compare to his own as he realized he didn’t know
the slightest thing about playing Santa or what to do with Matthew
and the other fifty kids in line behind him. Spinelli flashed his
confused gaze in Shannon’s direction and almost as if she read his
thoughts, she took charge of the situation. She looked down at
Matthew. “Do you want to climb up on Santa’s lap and tell him what
you want for Christmas?”

Matthew nodded his little head. Shannon
reached down, scooped him up, and placed him on Spinelli’s lap then
she crouched down in front of them and kept her eyes aligned with
Matthew’s. Spinelli still wasn’t sure what to do. He could feel the
sweat beading up on his upper lip and temples. His perspiration
caused his face to itch even more under his strap-on beard. It took
every bit of strength he could muster not to tear the beard off his
face and scratch his chin raw.

Shannon shifted her gaze from Matthew’s to
Spinelli’s and quietly mouthed, “Ho, ho, ho.” Shear panic ran
through his veins as she coaxed him along. He looked down at
Matthew, sucked in a deep breath and let it out with a mighty and
cheerful “Ho, ho, ho.” The authenticity even surprised Spinelli.
Matthew’s eyes went wide and a smile grew across his chubby little
face as he began to rattle off his extensive Christmas list.

Four hours later, the mother of the last
child in line worked desperately to coax her daughter to climb up
on Santa’s lap, give him her Christmas list, and get her photo
taken. After several failed attempts, the woman simply scooped her
daughter up and planted her on Spinelli’s lap. The little girl
shifted her terrified blue-eyed gaze to Spinelli’s and upon
contact, she immediately started wailing. She slid down his leg to
get off his lap but not before she peed her pants. Spinelli sprang
to his feet as he realized what happened. The wetness penetrated
through his plush red velvet pants causing his pant leg to stick to
his skin. He wanted to swear a blue streak, but contained himself
in front of those who remained in the Santa village.

 

 

Chapter
Ten

 

Spinelli sauntered toward the employee locker
room. Though anxious to lose the hot, itchy, and wet Santa suit, he
slowed down to trail the elves and eavesdrop. Maybe he’d hear
something he could use to nab the killer. But no, they droned on
about semester finals and griped about having to work at the mall
for the holidays.
Poor kids
, he thought as he did a mental
eye roll.

Once in the locker room Spinelli kept
listening while he peeled off the Santa suit. Still nothing
important. He glanced at the soggy trousers.
Damn this is
disgusting. What the hell is wrong with kids today?
With any
luck, the drycleaners would be open in the morning and he could get
the urine-polluted Santa suit cleaned before his shift tomorrow
night.

He stuffed the suit into his duffel bag and
slung it over his shoulder. He rounded the corner of the locker row
to find the elves and a couple of security guards still talking
among themselves. They stopped talking when they saw him looking at
them. “Need something?” one elf asked.

Spinelli eyed each elf again while his mind
worked to place each of them in their respective spots in the photo
Shannon received in the mail. He needed something from them all
right. He needed to know what they knew about the murders of Hudson
and Reed.

Spinelli shrugged. “No not really. Just on my
way out.”

“You’re a little young to be playing Santa
Claus, don’t ya think?” one of the young security guards
teased.

He shrugged again. “A job’s a job. Just need
a little extra cash.”

“Well, you must be desperate for cash to take
a job as Santa,” one elf said.

Spinelli tilted his head to the side and
cocked a brow. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, it’s not like you enjoy it. You’re the
worst Santa I’ve ever seen,” the elf commented as he chuckled. “You
looked stiff as a board all day and when that kid peed on you I
thought you were going to have the holy big one.”

Spinelli chose to ignore the elf’s comments,
chuckled, and continued to chat with them and security guards. He
wanted to get to know them a bit and find out if they knew anything
about the murders of Hudson and Reed. As he probed them he couldn’t
help but notice the nervous glances being exchanged between the
elves and security guards, as if trying to communicate a pact of
silence. Finally, one of the security guys broke off. “We need to
get back on watch. See ya’ll later.”

Spinelli followed the security guards and the
elves out of the locker room to find Shannon waiting outside the
door. She waited for the others to pass by before she spoke to him.
“What are you doing here?”

“Playing Santa.”

“Yes, I see that. But why?”

“Because I want to and it’s fun being with
all the children,” Spinelli choked out.

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Yeah right. You
really looked like you enjoyed yourself and knew what you were
doing today,” she commented sarcastically.

Shannon stopped talking and eyed Spinelli. He
watched her as her pale cheeks turned even whiter and as her eyes
began to flood with tears. Her breaths grew quick and shallow. “Oh
my God,” she whispered. Then she threw her hand over her mouth.

He took a step toward her and she quickly
stepped back. He took another step toward her and again she stepped
back, pressing her back against the wall.

“Stay away from me! Just stay away.”

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