St. Nick Read online

  She handed Nick the take-out food, and he put it in and started up the microwave. It sounded like a badly tuned radio station. The load on the electrical system was in no way reassuring. Overhead, the kitchen lights dimmed.

  “Dinner dress is usually optional lead lining,” Nick said.

  “In my apartment a modern microwave is a necessity. I’m afraid that’s how I cook most of my meals.”

  “That sounds like gourmet eating to me,” said Nick.

  Charlotte pulled out a bagged salad. “You do have a large bowl, don’t you?”

  “I’ve got something close.”

  Nick opened a cabinet, and pulled out the bowl.

  “What about plates, forks, napkins?”

  “Now you’re really getting demanding.”

  Charlotte glanced over to the kitchen table to see if it needed to be cleared. Nick noticed the way her expression froze, and he saw what she was staring at. Somehow he had overlooked the gun during the morning cleanup. It had become too much of an everyday fixture, he supposed.

  He went over and picked it up, and then stood there awkwardly. What do you do with a gun in your hand?

  “There’s been a prowler around here.”

  Even to Nick, his explanation sounded lame. Normal people don’t keep loaded guns next to their sugar. Nick didn’t look at Charlotte. He didn’t want her to have to pretend that she didn’t understand what the gun was doing there.

  “Let me get rid of this,” he said. “It doesn’t go with dinner. It’s more of a brunch kind of gun.”

  She offered a little mercy laugh, more than he deserved, and Nick put the gun away in the living room closet.

  “I got the gun decoration idea out of Better Homes and Gardens,” Nick said. “Spice up your table for the holidays, you know.”

  Instead of playing along with him, Charlotte said, “I must have missed that issue.”

  Nick decided on honesty over bad humor. “After the shooting, I was in a bad place, sort of stuck in the woods.”

  “Are you out of the woods yet?”

  “You haven’t heard of Lewis and Clark and Pappas?”

  She smiled, but waited for an answer. Nick leaned one way, and then the other, uncomfortable with the subject. “Yeah, I’m out of the woods,” he said, not hiding his eyes, not hiding anything, from her. “The gun’s put away for good.”

  “I’m glad,” said Charlotte.

  Her words warmed him. They exchanged silly smiles, and then his old microwave gave an alarm-clock clang.

  “It’s playing our song,” said Nick.

  Chapter 28

  We Three Kings

  December 18

  The National Weather Service had predicted another Santa Ana condition would be descending upon Southern California, and they were right.

  The timing of the heat wave wasn’t good for Nick. The Santa Ana arrived on the same day the Plaza Center’s air-conditioning broke down. By one o’clock, it was eighty-five degrees outside, while inside the mall it was even hotter, or at least it seemed that way to Nick. Most shoppers were dressed for the heat and not deterred by the mechanical failure, but Nick in his arctic garb was suffering. Liquids didn’t seem to help; the more he drank, the more he perspired, and there was no relief on the immediate horizon. Engineering said they were waiting for a part to get the air-conditioning running, but they had been saying that for hours.

  Angie tried to beat the heat for Nick as best she could. She had found a fan in her Christmas bag, and was waving it his way.

  “Thanks,” Nick said, “but no more. I’m beginning to feel like Cleopatra arriving on her barge.”

  “I have something else for you then,” said Angie.

  She returned to her bag, and after rummaging through it came up with a seashell. “Hold it up to your ear,” she told Nick.

  Nick didn’t ask Angie what she was doing carrying around a seashell, but instead took the shell and did as she said. The sounds of the ocean came to him, and he smiled.

  “Do you have another shell?” asked Darcy.

  Amazingly, Angie did, and for a time Darcy and Nick tuned into the ocean until even that became more of a tease than a relief.

  “It’s the ear version of a mirage,” said Nick, putting aside the seashell. “I can’t take any more of an imaginary oasis.”

  “Then we’ll have to do something about that,” said Angie.

  She tore out a piece of drawing paper, and wrote a note in calligraphy that said Santa and company wouldn’t return until the late afternoon. Charlotte appeared just as Angie finished taping the note to the “Santa is Feeding his Reindeer” sign.

  “Break time?” asked Charlotte.

  “No,” said Angie, “it’s recess time, and you’re invited. We’ll take my car.”

  “Should I change?” Nick asked.

  Angie was already walking away. Without turning back, she shook her head.

  “Where are we going?” asked Charlotte.

  “Beats me,” said Nick.

  The two of them followed after Angie and Darcy. Nick waved to people as he walked. Several people said, “Hot enough for you, Santa?”

  Nick offered some “ho ho’s,” but his attention was on Charlotte. “So what do I owe to having the pleasure of your company?”

  “Do I need a reason to visit Santa Claus?”

  “I should have known it was him you were coming to see,” said Nick, faking umbrage.

  Angie turned back, noticed their smiles and yelled, “Quit dawdling, you two.”

  The four of them walked out to the parking lot and followed Angie to her car. Nick looked at the MINI Cooper and shook his head. “All four of us can’t fit in this candy cane,” he said.

  “It’s bigger than it looks,” said Angie.

  “It would have to be,” said Nick.

  “If you want to beat the heat, get in.”

  “You haven’t told us where we’re going.”

  “That’s right.”

  They drove west on Interstate 8. Nick’s head was out the window, and doglike he was taking in the breeze. The wind pushed at his white beard and he didn’t even worry about the tangles. Other drivers kept honking, and giving him the thumbs up. They approved of seeing Santa Claus chilling on the road.

  The interstate ended in Ocean Beach. Angie drove along residential streets until she found an empty space on Newport Avenue just steps away from the sand.

  “What are we doing here?” asked Nick.

  “Surf’s up,” said Angie.

  “I don’t surf,” Nick said.

  “Take a dip in the ocean then.”

  “I didn’t bring a suit.”

  Angie looked at Charlotte and Darcy. “It looks like he’s wearing a suit to me.”

  The women nodded.

  “Fine,” said Nick.

  He stepped out of the car and started walking on the sand toward the water. His black boots crunched along the shoreline. His conspicuous figure drew the attention of sunbathers and surfers, and cheers followed him towards the water. Behind him he could hear the elves and Charlotte laughing. If he’d had any doubts about what he might do, they vanished. Without any hesitation Nick continued his walk into the water, and didn’t stop until the water was up to his ribs. The water soaked through his layers of clothing and padding, and Nick heaved a sigh of relief. He fell back into the ocean and floated around like a red whale.

  Darcy, Angie and Charlotte were standing just beyond the surf line. The three women were laughing so hard they could barely stand.

  “Shall we?” asked Angie, extending a hand to both women.

  The three women joined hands and ran into the surf.

  Nick had picked the short straw. Any hopes that someone else might be working disappeared when he saw who was waiting behind the counter. The man’s eyes widened when he recognized Nick.

  Trying his best to be deferential and polite, Nick said, “I’d like one-hour service, please.”

  Nick did his best to ignore th
e giggles coming from just outside the dry cleaners. The three women were dressed in work pants and work shirts. They were now calling each other Luis, Hector, and Mack, the names on the shirts.

  Still attempting decorum, Nick put the plastic bags on the counters. The Asian man peeked into one bag, and then the next. Seeing the sodden contents made the man frown that much more, and of course, that made the women lose it.

  Nick was biting his lip to keep from laughing. “One hour?” he asked again.

  The shopkeeper slapped a laundry slip down on the counter. “Fill out,” he commanded.

  Nick did as asked, and then slunk out of the cleaners. Naturally, the air-conditioning in the mall was now working. In fact the temperature at the mall seemed downright brisk, but that might have been because of their trip to the beach.

  “Come along, Luis, Hector, and Mack,” he said to the waiting women. “It’s time we all changed.”

  “It’s a good thing I keep a spare outfit in my car,” said Charlotte. “I can just see trying to do the news wearing this.”

  As if to comment, Charlotte’s cell phone began ringing. “I jinxed myself,” she said. “Never talk about work when you’re playing hooky.”

  She looked at the display and said, “I better take this call.”

  The three of them gave Charlotte some space to take her call, but Nick couldn’t help overhearing some of her conversation as they walked. It sounded as if she was carefully answering the questions, and would have preferred saying nothing at all. Nick heard her reference “Santa” several times; it didn’t sound promising.

  The call ended just as Angie and Darcy went off to go change into their elf outfits. “I think we had better sit,” said Charlotte.

  “That bad?” asked Nick.

  “That was Geoff Stadler of the Union-Tribune,” Charlotte said. “The supposed purpose of his call was to get an update on the search for Laura, but during our talk he started asking questions about Plaza Center’s Santa Claus. He tried to disguise his inquiries, but it became clear to me that he knows who you are.”

  “So the cop’s out of the bag?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Nick shook his head. “It’s not your fault. With all the media attention, I’m surprised no one picked up on my identity until now. Even though SDPD didn’t advertise it, I’ve been dreading that someone would realize I was the one who took down our bad guys.”

  “I guess it was to be expected, but I was hoping we’d both luck out. I’m going to have to get back to the station and confess to my boss that you are not only the Plaza Center Santa, but also the cop involved in the Chrissie Taylor shooting.”

  “How much trouble are you going to be in?”

  “He’s not going to be happy, but I’m going to explain that in return for my silence you agreed to help me on the Laura story. That story is big enough to give me some leverage.”

  What she’d be telling her boss was true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. The day before, Nick and Charlotte had spent several hours together tracking down leads. Of course they had also spent several hours together not tracking down leads.

  Charlotte was in trouble because of him. “You don’t need to confess,” he said. “Why don’t you go to your boss and say you just figured out who I am. I’ll even let you interview me about the shooting.”

  She smiled, and reached a hand out to his cheek. “Thanks, but no thanks. Do you think I’d want to admit that you pulled the wool over my eyes?”

  “Beard,” said Nick.

  “Besides, now that we have a personal relationship it wouldn’t be ethical for me to interview you.”

  Relieved, Nick said, “I guess not.”

  “But when the reporter contacts you,” said Charlotte, “and I’m sure it will be today, I think you should agree to do an interview with him.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because it’s time the public heard what really happened that night. Your silence hasn’t helped you, Nick. It’s time people learned you were a hero that night, not some cowboy spraying lead. Geoffrey’s a good reporter. He’ll corroborate that you weren’t drinking, or gambling to excess. You can tell him how Chrissie Taylor’s condition demanded immediate attention, and necessitated your leaving the crime scene.”

  The warmth Nick felt wasn’t from the hot day, or his stifling Santa suit. It was from having someone else care about him.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said.

  She heard something in his answer that made her smile, and that made him smile.

  Chapter 29

  Oh Little Town of Bethlehem

  December 20

  Nick arrived later at the hospital than expected. Charlotte had been right. The reporter had turned up at the mall, and rather than put him off, Nick had talked to him after his Santa shift. Reliving the shooting hadn’t been easy. The reporter had done his job, asking Nick specifics and forcing him to remember all that had happened. Nick took a deep breath and let a shudder pass. At least Chrissie was better now. The reporter had seen her earlier in the day and said she was on the road to recovery.

  Maybe I’m even better now, thought Nick.

  Charlotte had been right to encourage him to talk. He had bottled up so much inside that finally speaking out felt cathartic.

  Nick quietly pushed open the door, not wanting to disturb Raymond if he was asleep. He needn’t have worried. The boy’s eyes were immediately on him. Raymond was still wearing Tank Mobley’s shirt. Nick wondered if he had ever taken it off.

  “Don’t you ever sleep?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t want to sleep.”

  Nick took a seat in the chair next to the bed and reached for the Advent calendar on the nightstand. Only five doors now remained unopened. What had seemed so many was now so few. Nick could hardly believe Christmas was almost upon them.

  “Whoa, what’s this,” said Nick. “You ate my piece of chocolate today?”

  Raymond didn’t pick up on his teasing tone. “I gave it to my dad,” the boy said, “before he left for his flight.”

  “I was just kidding, kiddo. I’m glad you gave it to him.”

  “He and my whole family are flying in on Christmas day.”

  “Are they coming by reindeer or by airplane?”

  Raymond smiled at Nick’s lame joke. “Let’s open number twenty-one,” the boy said. “You can have that piece of chocolate.”

  Number twenty-one. Not the twenty-first. Young children had their own way of expressing numbers.

  “Nope,” Nick said. “It’s not going to be midnight for a few hours, so you’ll have to wait until then. Or better yet, why don’t you get some sleep now and save it for the morning.”

  “I’m not sleepy.”

  Maybe Raymond was afraid to go to sleep, Nick thought.

  “Will you take me out in the wheelchair?” the boy asked.

  “It’s too late,” said Nick.

  “I’m not sleepy,” Raymond said again.

  That’s what Nick’s kids had always said to him, even when their eyes were all but closed. But Raymond really did look awake.

  “I’ll go check with Easy,” Nick said.

  Hands on hips, Easy looked down at Raymond with her sternest face. “What’s this I hear about your wanting to go out on some crazy late night ride?”

  Raymond wasn’t buying her act. “Just for a little while.”

  The nurse shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”

  Nick and the boy knew it was an act. She had already set up the wheelchair with blankets and a pillow, and now she was lifting Raymond into it.

  “You better stay covered up,” she said.

  “I will,” said Raymond.

  Easy gave Nick a tough look. “And you, sir, better watch your driving.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Nick.

  “I expect you both to be back within fifteen minutes.”

  They nodded, all of them putting on an act for each other.

  As
soon as he was out of Easy’s sight, Raymond shed most of the blankets.

  “What are you doing?” Nick asked.

  “I’m hot.”

  Maybe he was. Or maybe the boy was showing off his jersey.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” Raymond asked.

  Wheelchair in front of him, Nick started trotting down the hall. Raymond began to laugh, a sound Nick had never thought he would hear out of the boy. He started to run all the harder, making him laugh even louder.

  At the end of the hallway Nick slowed down, though over Raymond’s protestations. Their touring became more sedate. The hospital was quiet, but now and again Nick and Raymond encountered staff and patients. Everyone offered them a smile.

  They had no route, walking the floors and stepping in and out of elevators on a seemingly haphazard basis. They stopped at odd spots, observing flower displays, and paintings, and busts of people unknown to them.

  More by accident than design, Nick chauffeured Raymond to the pediatric ward. Not since his own children were born had Nick been in pediatrics. There was a nurse on duty who allowed them entry, and Nick and Raymond just stood there for minutes looking into the enclosed area. They stared at the tiny babies in incubators, laughing at their expressions and movements. For the most part their eyes were closed, but now and again one would blink suspiciously at the strange new world around them. Man and boy were entranced by the display of life.

  Nick finally wheeled Raymond away. There were more sights to be seen. To Nick, it almost felt as if they were sleepwalking together, or experiencing the same dream state. They took some time to appreciate the large Noble fir in the lobby. Hanging from its thick branches were clusters of silver bells, and when a delivery door was opened the silver bells played for them.

  Every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings, Nick thought. He liked to think he was a confirmed cynic, but every year he still ended up watching It’s A Wonderful Life.

  When Raymond’s head started dropping, Nick steered his charge back to the pediatric oncology ward. They made a final stop in the waiting area to watch the trains going round and round. Santa was still conducting the train, and all the cars were filled with toys.