Purrfect Santa

Chapter 4

Chase drove while I relaxed in the passenger seat, wondering how to go about finding this illustrious Santa the council had hired. I looked up when Chase cleared his throat. “So what’s the big deal about this Santa business?” he asked.

“Dan’s been the Santa for so many years he was shocked when the council fired him. He’s grown attached to the role, I guess. And he’s a great Santa. Kids love him. Grownups love him. In fact the only people who don’t seem to care for him are the Mayor and his council. And that’s got nothing to do with Dan’s qualities as a Santa and everything to do with politics.”

He shook his head and grinned. “Small-town politics. You’ve got to love it.”

“It’s not just that. Dan is in a position of considerable influence, as the editor of the town’s only newspaper. Both parties have tried to make him endorse their candidates and he’s always refused. But instead of appreciating the fact that he prefers to remain neutral, they resent him for it. And this whole Santa business is their way of getting back at him.”

“All sounds pretty petty to me.”

“It is.” I turned to him. “What did you think about the new Christmas tree?”

He shrugged. “It’s a Christmas tree.”

“It’s not a tree. It’s a metal frame supporting a light installation. It looks like a reject from one of Lady Gaga’s shows.”

“And it just might be. But why do you care so much? It’s just a stupid Christmas tradition.”

“Why do you care so little? It’s Christmas. It’s important.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just a stupid holiday. A way for big business to shove a lot of stuff down our throats. It’s got nothing to do with tradition or what Christmas should really be about.”

“Which is?”

“Family,” he said with a shrug. “Togetherness. Celebrating with the people you love.”

“It’s about that and a lot more.”

“Look, I don’t care about this stupid tree, all right? All I care about is to be with you and your family.”

Touched as I was, I thought he’d forgotten about one important thing. “What about your family? Don’t you want to celebrate Christmas with them?”

He sighed. “It’s… a little complicated.”

“What about your mom? You still have your mom, right?”

He grimaced. “That’s the complicated part.”

“How so?”

“You’ll see. Oftentimes she doesn’t even know who I am. When I went to visit her last time she thought I was Johnny the milkman. She was rummaging around in her purse to come up with the nickel she thought she owed me.”

Now I saw why it was so important he found his grandfather. Since his dad had died, and his mom was in this state, the old man was probably a great support for him.

I placed my hand on his arm. “We’ll find your grandpa, Chase. And when we do we’ll invite him to spend Christmas with us.”

“Thanks,” he said, his voice a little husky. “I would like that.” He cleared his throat. “How are things with your cats?”

“My cats? My cats are fine. A little annoyed with all the snow, which is why they won’t be venturing outside anytime soon.”

“I thought I saw them as I came looking for you.”

“You saw them? Where?”

“Outside your dad’s office. They were just heading inside.”

“My dad’s office?” I remembered they’d been worried about Bambi not showing up that morning. Was it possible they were out looking for her? If they were, maybe it would do them some good. Being cooped up inside all winter wasn’t healthy. Especially for Max, who had a tendency to gain weight if he didn’t get his exercise.

“You know, I heard the weirdest rumor the other day.”

“Oh?”

“Someone told me that the Poole women could talk to their cats. It’s, like, a tradition.”

I tried to look as innocent as possible. “It’s the first I’ve heard of that tradition.”

He glanced over. “So it’s not true?”

“Of course it’s not true! Cats can’t talk. That’s just crazy.”

“That’s what I thought. People tell me the weirdest things. Do you think it’s because I’m new in town? That they think they can make a fool of me by trying to sell me this ridiculous gossip?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, Chase. They must think you’re pretty gullible to believe a bunch of nonsense like that.”

“Yeah. I told him I wasn’t buying it, and he seemed offended.”

“Who told you this?”

“Some guy that came in this morning to file a complaint about a customer who refused to pay his bills. Wilbur Vickery. He runs the Vickery General Store.”

“I know Wilbur,” I said.

“He even told me that his own cat likes to chat with your cats, and that he’s pretty sure they exchange information, which makes its way into your articles. I told him you don’t need any cats to be the ace reporter that you are.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing, babe. Nobody is going to make a fool of me and accuse you of using a crew of feline sleuths.” He laughed. “Simply the idea!”

“Yeah,” I agreed as I swallowed away a lump of uneasiness. “Pretty ridiculous.”

“What pisses me off the most is that Wilbur would think I’d fall for that crap.”

“Yeah, he probably figures you’re pretty thick.”

“Which I’m not.”

“No way. You’re former NYPD. You’re the smartest cop in town.”

“Absolutely. Imagine I wouldn’t know you can talk to cats.”

“Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.”

I stared out the window, biting my lip. Damn that Wilbur Vickery. He must have had too much eggnog, spreading rumors like that. Most people in town knew about the Poole women’s abilities, but didn’t mention it to outsiders. I would have to have a little chat with Wilbur. Remind him to keep his mouth shut. The other option was for me to come clean to Chase. I glanced over at the cop, taking in the sweep of dark hair as it dangled across his brow, and the rigid set of his face. This was not a man who believed in fairytale stories about talking cats. This was a man who relied on reason and logic to solve his cases, not feline intuition. There was no way he was ever going to believe me.

Just like he hadn’t believed a word Wilbur Vickery had told him. And a good thing, too.