Purrfect Santa (Mysteries of Max Short Book 1) Read online

  PURRFECT SANTA

  MYSTERIES OF MAX SHORT 1

  NIC SAINT

  PUSS IN PRINT PUBLICATIONS

  CONTENTS

  Purrfect Santa

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Excerpt from Purrfect Crime (The Mysteries of Max 5)

  About Nic

  Also by Nic Saint

  PURRFECT SANTA

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  Chase’s grandfather is missing, and he asks Odelia to help find him. And since Odelia’s editor has told her to find out who the new Hampton Cove Santa is, she gladly agrees. After traipsing all over New York City in search of Grandpa Kingsley, and the new Santa, they have to declare defeat. Lucky for them, there’s still Max and Dooley, Odelia’s feline sleuths. Will they find out what happened to Grandpa Kingsley? And will they figure out who the new Santa is? Get into the holiday spirit with Max and Odelia and find out in Purrfect Santa.

  This Mysteries of Max short story (20.000 words) stands alone, and is told from the viewpoint of Odelia, featuring Chase, Odelia’s family, Max and Dooley, and offers a rare glimpse into Chase’s past. It’s accompanied by two more short stories, Purrfect Christmas Mystery and Purrfect Christmas Miracle, written from the viewpoint of Max, exclusively available to mailing list subscribers: nicsaint.com/newsletter. The three short stories are best read in this order: Purrfect Santa, Purrfect Christmas Mystery and Purrfect Christmas Miracle.

  CHAPTER 1

  I ’d actually been looking forward to sleeping in a little. Probably the cold and the darkness slowing down my metabolism or something. When the days get shorter and the nights longer I want to curl up in bed and sleep forever. Like badgers. Or is it bears? Unfortunately, I am neither. I am human and I own a cat, so no hibernation for me. I woke up when there was a loud crashing sound nearby, and when I opened my eyes I saw that Max, my red tomcat, and his buddy Dooley, my Gran’s ragamuffin, had managed to destroy my curtains. Tearing them down, curtain rod and all.

  I groaned against the sudden light that hit my eyes. “Max! Dooley! Are you serious?”

  “Sorry, Odelia,” said Dooley sheepishly. “We didn’t mean to destroy your curtains.”

  “They’re not destroyed, Dooley,” said Max. “They’re just… temporarily displaced.”

  I swung my feet from beneath the comforter and into my fuzzy pink rabbit slippers. “Oh, they’re destroyed,” I said, then yawned cavernously and stretched out.

  I got up and walked over to the window to assess the damage. All in all, it wasn’t that bad. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. I blinked at the world outside. A thick layer of snow had fallen overnight, covering the world in a blanket of white. The sun was out and lit up the snow like a field of diamonds. Ugh. Like a vampire, I shielded my eyes from the brightness, and wished I could go back to sleep.

  “Can we go out and play, Odelia?” asked Dooley excitedly.

  “Sure. But I have to warn you guys. It’s a lot colder than it looks.”

  The two cats scrambled from the room and down the stairs. I decided to follow at a much more leisurely pace, and not before fixing my curtains. They weren’t actually ruined. The rod had tumbled down from its support. So I dragged up a chair and returned it to its original position.

  Once downstairs, I started up the coffeemaker, took my favorite cup from the cupboard—the one that says ‘crazy cat lady’—and ambled over to the sliding glass door to look out. The cats had already made their way outside, and were gingerly testing out the snow. It was a cute sight. They carefully sunk their paws into the mass of white, then quickly extracted them again. No matter how many times they experienced snow, each time it seemed like the first time. Five minutes in, they were inside again, shaking off the snow.

  “Too cold!” Dooley lamented.

  “Too wet!” Max grumbled.

  “I told you,” I said with a smile, and watched them hop onto the couch and promptly doze off. Cold and wet. Two things all cats seem to hate. I didn’t think I’d get them outside again this winter. Which was a pity, as my work as a reporter doesn’t stop just because temperatures drop. And my cats are my eyes and ears. They spot things that remain hidden to humans, and are my best sources of information. My name is Odelia Poole, by the way, and I’m not just a reporter at the Hampton Cove Gazette, but also a civilian consultant with the local police, helping them solve crime from time to time, something else my feline sleuths help me with.

  I poured myself some coffee, gratefully curling my fingers around the cup, and took little sips.

  Today I was working from home, so after hitting the shower I dressed in sweatpants and a raggedy fleece Garfield sweater, and plunked down at my computer. My editor, Dan Goory, wanted to publish an article on the new Christmas tree the town council put up in Town Square. The official unveiling of the tree was a disaster, with many townies expressing their horror and shock. The tree wasn’t so much a tree as much as a metal frame in the shape of a tree with a high-tech light show attached. The council called it the modernization of Christmas, and claimed it would put us on the map as a progressive and forward-thinking town. Most Hampton Covians thought it was just plain ugly, and a disgrace to our Christmas tradition. All in all, it had more or less ruined the festive season for many people, and Dan was one of the most vocal opponents of the monstrosity, as he called it.

  I had only written the intro to my article when the doorbell rang. I ambled over to answer it. Max and Dooley had magically woken up and were eagerly waiting at the door before I got there.

  I smiled. My cats simply adore our mailwoman, because Bambi always comes bearing cuddles and sometimes even gifts. She’s a cat person, just like me, and is crazy about Max and Dooley.

  I opened the door and was surprised to find it wasn’t Bambi delivering the mail today but her husband Randi. I didn’t think too much of it. It was the holidays, after all, and Bambi was probably enjoying a day off. I grabbed the mail, said goodbye to Randi, and closed the door.

  “Where’s Bambi?” asked Max.

  “Mh?” I asked absentmindedly as I scanned the mail.

  “Bambi,” he said. “That wasn’t Bambi. Where’s Bambi?”

  “Of course she is,” I muttered and returned to my computer.

  “Where’s Bambi?” Max asked again.

  “Max, can you please be quiet?” I asked. “I have a ton of work and I need to focus.”

  Cats. They can get really obsessed about stuff sometimes. Like when their favorite letter carrier suddenly doesn’t show up. In that respect they’re pretty much OCD. Five minutes later, they were meowing up a storm to be let out again, so I dragged myself from my seat, opened the glass door, and watched them strut off. Why I had a pet door installed in the kitchen I do not know, as they rarely seem to use it, preferring their human to play butler instead.

  I returned to my desk, and put in a solid two hours of work on the Christmas tree piece.

  CHAPTER 2

  I decided to walk to the office, as the roads were a little tricky to navigate by car, and I don’t like driving in these conditions. And since the sun was out and the air was crisp and fresh, a little walk was exactly what the doctor ordered. Max and Dooley were nowhere to be seen, and neither
were Harriet and Brutus, the cats that belong to Mom and Chase, my boyfriend the cop. I wasn’t worried. They were old and wise enough to take care of themselves, and not get into any trouble.

  Twenty minutes later, I breezed into the offices of the Hampton Cove Gazette, and knocked at the door of Dan. The editor was in, though he did not look happy.

  “Hey, Dan,” I said from the doorway. “I’ve finished the article on the new Christmas tree.” He was frowning at me, as if I’d just called him a bad name, so I frowned back. “Everything all right?”

  Dan is a wizened old guy with an impressive white beard, wire-rimmed glasses, and eyes that always seem to smile. Except now. Now they looked positively menacing. “No, everything is not all right,” he grumbled. “In fact everything is horrible. Do you know what the council has just decided?”

  “Um, to change the new Christmas tree for the old one?” One could only hope.

  “No, they’ve decided that I won’t be their Santa any longer! Can you believe it?!”

  Quite frankly I couldn’t. Dan, since he looks pretty much like Santa, has been Hampton Cove’s resident Santa for years. He’s the one that presides over the Santa Parade and rides on the biggest float, the one shaped like a sleigh, officiates the Christmas tree lighting, the opening of the holiday movies film festival at the Hampton Cove Movie Theatre, and graces dozens of other activities with his cheerful presence. Christmas in Hampton Cove isn’t really Christmas without Dan.

  “But they can’t do that!” I cried, aghast.

  “Well, they did,” he said, holding up a letter. “Two days before Christmas! They even made it official. Said that in light of my negative review of the new Christmas tree, my services as Santa are no longer required.”

  “They fired you because you don’t like the new Christmas tree?”

  “Yep.” He took off his glasses and settled back in his chair. “I called the Mayor and he told me that the council viewed last week’s editorial as a personal affront. Said that my negativity has swayed public opinion against the tree, and if only I’d toed the line, Hampton Cove would have accepted the tree just fine.” He spread his arms. “But how can I accept a tree that ugly? It’s hideous!!”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “What can I do? They’re going in a different direction for the final few days.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning they’ve hired a different Santa to officiate the Christmas Eve Celebration.”

  “Who? I frankly can’t imagine a better Santa than you, Dan.” And I meant it. Dan has been Santa since I was a little girl, and I just couldn’t imagine Christmas without him. I remembered how he used to come to Hampton Cove middle school, and dole out the presents, and how he would officiate the Christmas celebration in the school’s cafeteria, with all the kids spending a few precious moments on his lap, telling him how good they’d been and giving him their Christmas wish list.

  “Thanks, honey,” he said warmly. “You’re not the only one who seems to feel that way. Lots of people have called to tell me they think the council is wrong. But the politicians are not budging. They’ve already gone and hired some shmuck from New York. A department store Santa, no less.”

  “A department store Santa?”

  “Yeah, one of those guys that does the big department stores. You know the type. Young guy that tapes on a fake beard once a year and goes through the motions.” He thoughtfully rubbed his own beard, which wasn’t fake at all. “I think they’re going to regret it, Odelia. They can’t mess with Christmas traditions like this and get away with it.” He pointed a stubby finger in my direction. “I want you to find out who this new guy is. I want you to find out everything you can about him.”

  “And then what? The council isn’t going to change their minds, Dan. You know how stubborn they can be.”

  “Oh, of course I know. But once I expose this new Santa, they’ll have to change their minds.”

  I shuffled a little worriedly. “Expose Santa?”

  “Sure! Dig up the dirt on the guy. Show people what a fraud he is.”

  “And what if he’s not?”

  Dan’s face took on a mutinous expression. “He has to be. All of those guys are frauds, Odelia. There’s only one real Santa and that’s me.” He thumped his chest defiantly. “And once the council sees what a chump they hired, they’ll come crawling back to me—begging me to take the job.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Dan.”

  “Well, I do,” he snapped. “Bring me this new Santa’s head, Odelia. I’ll crucify the imposter!”

  They weren’t exactly the words a real Santa would employ, nor did they reflect the holiday spirit, but whenever Dan was in one of his moods, I knew better than to try and argue with him, so I simply accepted the assignment and breezed out of the office again. I had a Santa to find and not much time to do it. It was going to be Christmas in two days, and if Dan still wanted to be Santa, I’d have to move fast. Faster than Santa’s sleigh.

  CHAPTER 3

  M y first port of call was Town Hall. If anyone could tell me who the new Santa was, it was the Council Manager or the Mayor or any of the councilpersons in charge of any of the departments. When I arrived there, the secretary at the front desk was my first hurdle. When I asked to speak to either the Mayor or the Council Manager, she said I needed to make an appointment first, as both men were exceedingly busy. Since I’d seen the Mayor shoveling snow from his driveway that morning, I knew he couldn’t possibly be that busy.

  “Besides,” said the woman, who was sporting a purple perm and patting it proudly, “it’s almost Christmas, Odelia. I think you better come back in the New Year. I’m sure the Mayor will be more than happy to see you then.”

  “But I want to talk to him about Santa, so it has to be now.”

  “Santa?” Her face lit up. “Oh, I just love our new Santa, don’t you?”

  “You’ve seen the new Santa?”

  “Well, only his picture, of course. He’s just wonderful, isn’t he? I think he’s going to prove a big improvement over that old curmudgeon—what’s his name?” She snapped her fingers.

  I leveled a critical look at her. “Dan Goory? My boss?”

  Her lips formed a perfect O as she realized who she was talking to. “Well, Dan isn’t the worst Santa we’ve ever had, of course,” she said quickly. “I just think he’s not exactly the face of the new. More the face of the old, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” I said. “I think Dan is the perfect Santa. The ultimate Santa. The one and only.”

  “Well, you’re certainly entitled to your opinion, dear,” she said, her lips curling down in a look of disapproval. She was patting that purple perm again, making sure not a hair was out of place.

  “So where can I find this new Santa?”

  The secretary’s lips pressed together, and she made a sign of locking them with a key. And when she opened them again, it was to say, “We’ve been instructed not to talk to the press, dear. And you are the press, aren’t you?”

  “You mean you’ve been instructed not to talk to Dan.”

  “Him, too,” she admitted.

  Just then, the Mayor emerged from an office further down the hall. The moment he caught sight of me, he made a beeline for the men’s room, moving at a surprisingly rapid pace. I intercepted him just before he managed to make his escape. “Mayor Moss,” I said. “Odelia Poole. You remember me. Is it true that you’ve decided to replace Dan Goory with a new Santa?”

  “Yes,” he said, his eyes shifting uncomfortably between me and the secretary, who lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Yes, that’s quite true. Look, Miss Poole, I’m not going to beat around the bush. We at the town council were all very disappointed when we read Dan’s editorial on the unveiling of the new tree. Instead of fully endorsing the bold step the council took into a bright future, he seems to be stuck in a past where only a real tree can be considered a, well, a tree.”

  “You
have to admit the new tree is ugly, Mayor Moss.”

  Gus Moss’s brows knitted into a disapproving frown, his round face reddening slightly. “It appears that Dan’s backward vision on Christmas trees has rubbed off on his staff. I would advise you to remove yourself from the toxic influence of Dan Goory, Miss Poole. Embrace the new and do away with the old once and for all.”

  “I happen to like a regular Christmas tree,” I said with a shrug. “There’s nothing Christmassy about that cold steel contraption.”

  “It’s modern,” he snapped. “And modern is good.”

  “Nuclear war is modern. You don’t like nuclear war, do you?”

  He eyed me as one might eye an annoying bug, indicating he actually liked nuclear war, as long as it didn’t happen in his town. “Look, the die has been cast and there’s nothing more I can do about it. Dan will just have to learn to live with the consequences of his erroneous decisions.”

  “So who is the new Santa?”

  He held up his hand. “No comment.”

  “The people of Hampton Cove have a right to know.”

  “The people of Hampton Cove will simply have to wait until the Christmas Eve Celebration. The new Santa will be revealed then.”

  “Is it true he’s a department store Santa?”

  “No comment.”

  “What department store did he work at?”

  He gritted his teeth. “No. Comment.”

  Without another word, he stalked off. When I looked at the secretary, she beckoned me over, looked left and right, then held up a tiny scrap of paper. It read, ‘Thornton Fifth Avenue.’ The moment I’d read it, she crumpled it up and… popped it into her mouth, then swallowed it! I flashed her a smile of gratitude for this brave act of defiance. She gave me a feeble smile. Paper doesn’t taste good.

  On my way out, I bumped into Chase Kingsley, my cop boyfriend. He looked worried today, his handsome features contorted into a frown. His dark hair was covered with a stylish knit cap, and he’d raised the sheepskin collar of his biker jacket against the cold.