Santa's Little Helper (The Charlie Davies Mysteries Book 5) Read online

  Joke presents for family gathering, real presents in secret.

  My phone buzzed with his reply.

  Goes without saying. We don’t want our mums to start planning the wedding.

  I snorted with laughter.

  Anything you need?

  Doubtful, given that he was a billionaire, but I thought I’d give it a shot.

  I don’t want something I need. I want something I want.

  I frowned as I read that reply and sent back:

  Did you just quote Love Actually?

  Maybe.

  Actually, though, what do you want?

  Something cool.

  I groaned aloud.

  That narrows it down.

  I believe in you.

  Well, that made one of us.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Adam came out to the desk and beckoned for me to follow him. Adam Baxter, my boss and occasional friend, had the face and build of a male model, with black curly hair, flawless dark skin and a jawline that could cut diamonds. Although I wasn’t very good at guessing people’s heights given my stature (everyone looked tall to me), I would put him at six feet or upwards. If you were going to build a human in a lab, Adam would pretty much be the result. Provided you left the friendliness chip out.

  I stood, ‘accidentally’ spilling a glass of water all over the forms John was filling out and causing blue ink to run everywhere. He glared at me, open-mouthed, but I simply shrugged and followed Adam to his office. I sat down on the chair opposite Adam’s desk and took in my surroundings. It was a spacious room, bigger than the offices the other investigators had. Perks of being second in command of your dad’s company, I guess. The furniture in here was expensive, as it was in the rest of the building. There was not an IKEA piece in sight. Even the chairs cost over a thousand bucks each – although admittedly they were very comfortable.

  “How’s the case going?” Adam asked as we sat.

  I shrugged. “Terrible. I’m getting a lot better at gift-wrapping, though.”

  It was true. I was currently working at the gift-wrapping stand adjoined to the Santa stall at the local Westgarden shopping centre. As I mentioned, the man that had been seen flashing around town had been wearing a Santa suit with the Westgarden insignia, so we’d been able to narrow down the suspects pretty significantly. There were six Santas all up, and I was working with them until I managed to establish who was the creep so the police could arrest him.

  “How’s the costume?” Adam asked.

  Oh, did I not explain that? In order to work with Santa, I had to dress up as one of his Christmas elves.

  I glared at Adam as he half-smiled at me.

  “It’s not funny,” I said.

  “Sure it isn’t,” he replied.

  “Also, you need to fire John.”

  Adam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “And who’s going to manage reception if John’s gone and you’re off in the North Pole?”

  “No one!” I said. “You’ve told me yourself that you don’t really need a receptionist. Why are you acting like he’s so important all of a sudden?”

  “Why are you so jealous of John?”

  “I’m not!”

  Adam raised his eyebrows at me. “Really.”

  “Really,” I said. “I kind of was at first, but I got over that and now I just hate him.”

  Adam gave me one of his looks. It was one of those ‘why did I hire you/why are we friends/how are you a real human’ kind of looks.

  “He looked at my plant funny!”

  In hindsight, that may not have helped my case. I tried again.

  “It doesn’t like him. It wilts whenever he glances at it.”

  Adam was silent for a long time before saying, “We’re going to ignore the fact you said that so that I don’t have to refer you to a therapist.”

  I nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “Now, back to the case. You got anything on these Santas?”

  I’d had shifts all week at the Westgarden centre and I’d met all the potential suspects. Three of them I’d managed to discount through establishing alibis. The other three were the ones I was looking into: Bob, Garry and Randy. Adam already knew all of this, and he had coordinated with Westgarden’s centre management so that I would only be rostered on with those three Santas.

  “Haven’t got much so far,” I said.

  “You need to work quickly, Charlie,” said Adam. “It’s only a couple of days until Christmas and then this opportunity is gone. For obvious reasons, it would be better to catch this guy sooner rather than later.”

  He was right. No one wanted their kid sitting on a flasher’s lap.

  “In my opinion, you could probably discount Bob,” I said. “He’s like a real life Santa. He brings me a soy chai every morning and doesn’t even complain about having to order such a hippie drink for me. Plus he’s the only one who hasn’t joked about wanting me to sit on his lap or how he wouldn’t mind giving me a present.”

  Adam grimaced. “If they ever try to touch you, you’re well within your rights to break their wrist,” he said. “We’ll have no trouble winning that court case.”

  In addition to being my boss here at Baxter & Co., meaning he was both a PI and a security expert, Adam was also trained as a lawyer. And somehow, through the years, he’d also managed to study medicine. He was ridiculously smart and attractive and generally perfect in every way – other than being kind of an arsehole. Well, I say ‘kind of’. I really mean ‘a total’.

  I nodded. “I can’t believe how close Christmas is,” I said. “Have you done your shopping yet?”

  “Of course. Haven’t you?”

  I shook my head. “Somehow it crept up on me.”

  Adam folded his arms. “Seriously? You haven’t even bought me a present?”

  “What, were you really expecting me to get you one?” I said. “After you dressed me as an elf and threw me into the lion’s den?”

  He shook his head at me. “First you forget my birthday, now this. Honestly, I don’t know why I bother with you.”

  My eyes widened. Crap! I knew Adam’s birthday was around this time of year, but he was right – I’d completely forgotten. “HA HA,” I said – I’d wanted it to sound like a natural laugh but really it came out sounding kind of aggressive. “Just kidding! Of course I have a present for you.”

  “Stop lying.”

  I sighed. “Fine. I forgot. But I’ll get you a present now. A good one! I guess I kind of owe you after the awesome birthday present you got me.”

  A few months ago it had been my twentieth birthday, and Adam’s present had been a strong contender for the best present of the day. At Baxter & Co., all employees were expected to undergo a fitness program which involved waking up early and jogging to gym – combining all my least favourite things. Adam had given me five ‘get out of exercise’ cards. That meant I had five glorious days when I could call Adam and get out of my early morning exercise routine. So far I’d used three, but I’d decided to save the other two for emergencies.

  He nodded. “Just wait until you see your Christmas present.”

  Damn it! He had a good present for me – I could tell by the look in his eyes. Plus I owed him for the last one. I was going to have to get him something good. But what? It was too late to trawl eBay for obscure Star Wars merchandise. Australia Post was unreliable at the best of times, and December was far from that. Besides, even if by some miracle they did arrive on time I wasn’t going to be home to receive the parcels and the post office would be bedlam. Actually, ‘bedlam’ is too gentle a word. It was more like the Hunger Games. I’d made the mistake of visiting the post office in December once before and the crazy lady behind me in line had kicked me so hard in the ankle it had all but snapped. She pretended it was an accident, but we both knew she’d done it to try and get to the front of the queue faster.

  “Well, I’d better go,” I said.

  Adam nodded. “Yep. Gotta be up bright and early in the morning.�
��

  I groaned. Tomorrow was Saturday, which would ordinarily mean a sleep-in. Not when you worked in retail, however. Then it meant getting up while the clock was still in single digits, putting on my ridiculous elf costume (again) and driving to Westgarden, where I would spend the day dealing with people. At least I was with Bob tomorrow – the good Santa who brought me chai lattes. Sunday was not going to be nearly as fun.

  I stood and walked to the door, pausing in the doorway. I looked at Adam over my shoulder and he raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Yes?”

  “Just as a warning, John is probably going to file a complaint about me today.”

  “John files a complaint about you every day,” said Adam with a sigh. “What have you done now?”

  “I spoke on the phone,” I said. “Then used the computer.”

  Adam crossed his arms, shaking his head. “How dare you?” he said flatly. He cared about John’s complaints roughly as much as I did.

  “Figured I’d better warn you so you could punish me appropriately.” There was a beat of silence as what I’d just said sunk in. “I didn’t mean that to sound so Fifty Shades.”

  “Go home,” he said.

  I nodded. “Probably for the best,” I said. “Save the whips and chains for another time.”

  “Goodbye, Charlie,” he said, but I saw the corner of his mouth tip up in a smile.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Before heading home, I decided to drop in to Tim’s office and see how he was doing. Timothy ‘Sharps’ Carter had sandy hair, brown eyes and the kind of Southern drawl that made him sound like he’d stepped straight out of an episode of True Blood. He was tall and strong and fit and a much faster runner than me, and as far as I could tell he’d completely recovered from being bludgeoned almost to death at the start of the year. For whatever reason, though, he was pretty much still confined to his desk on doctor’s orders – that is, Adam’s orders.

  After knocking I entered, although it became immediately apparent from Tim’s scowl that he was not in a good mood.

  “Hey, Timmy –” I began, but then I saw his face. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I’ll go.”

  I scurried backwards, pulling the door closed with me. Tim had kind of a temper when he got cranky and I did not want to incur his wrath by interrupting him.

  “It’s OK, honey,” he called. “Come in.”

  Tentatively, I peeked around the corner of the door. He looked a little calmer now so I slowly walked back inside.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi,” he replied. “I thought you were Adam, and I was about to give you an earful. He promised me this case would be interesting, but it’s all just computer searches. I mean, jeez. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but right now I’d prefer to have your case.”

  I snorted. “Yeah right,” I said, plonking down in the chair opposite his desk.

  In the aftermath of the whole ‘nearly dying’ thing, Tim had been confined to a desk for several months while he healed. Now that he was better he was back to working cases, but he was getting the same crappy kind as me – cheating spouses, shoplifters and the like rather than his usual dangerous stuff. And he was not impressed.

  Adam was still hesitant about putting him back in the field despite the fact that it had been ages since he was bashed up. I didn’t know why Adam didn’t want him taking on anything too strenuous, but given that Adam was a doctor and I was not, I figured he must have had his reasons.

  “Adam claims that we don’t have that many big cases on the books at the moment, but he’s been staying here until after midnight to sort stuff out. He’s just taking on all the cases he should be giving to me.”

  “Do you know why he’s not giving you the good cases?”

  Tim shrugged. “I have no idea. When I ask him about it, he just denies it, but it’s pretty frigging obvious. He’s even been sending Maurice out into the field lately, and I’m pretty sure his next birthday will put him in the triple digits.”

  I frowned. “Who is Maurice?”

  Tim looked at me in disbelief. “You chat to him every day when he comes in,” he said. “He bought you a birthday present.”

  I shook my head, blank faced. Who the hell was Tim talking about?

  “You’re unbelievable,” said Tim. “You’ve worked here for nearly a year. How do you still not know who anyone is? You’re the receptionist. You’ve literally met everyone. You have no excuse.”

  I bit my lip. Tim did have a point there. “Remind me what Maurice gave me again?”

  “Those weird flip-flops you wear in public way more often than is appropriate.”

  My mouth formed an ‘O’. “Maurice was the guy who gave me my comfortable footwear? I thought he was someone’s grandparent who just came in to visit them every day!”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Those shoes are awesome, though.”

  Tim just sighed. “They’re hideous, and if I ever get the opportunity I will burn them.”

  “They’re beautiful and they nestle my arches in a way that no other pair of shoes can,” I said. “Did you know that the CEO of the company who makes them follows me on Instagram?”

  “Yes, because you tell me that at least twice a week.”

  “Where’s Maurice’s office?” I asked. My eyes widened as I came to a realisation. “I have to get him a Christmas present. I owe him big time for those shoes. They’ve literally changed my life.”

  “You could give the world a gift and never wear them again.”

  I stretched my arms above my head. “When you get to my age, comfort starts to matter more than fashion.”

  “You’re barely out of your teens, Charlie.”

  “Self care is important at any age.”

  “Self respect is what you really need,” he said. “Lime green rubber shoes? Really, honey?”

  I rolled my eyes. If he’d only try a pair then he’d understand.

  “What do you think I should get James for Christmas?”

  Tim shrugged. “No idea. Shopping for a billionaire isn’t really my area of expertise.”

  “I know. Fashion policing is more your thing, apparently.”

  He smiled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “If you like those shoes, that’s your business. I’m just annoyed because of the whole ‘never leaving my desk’ thing. I’m getting so antsy.”

  “Right, yeah. I can see why you’d be annoyed that Maurice is getting cases over you.” I paused. “Why hasn’t he retired yet?”

  Tim shrugged. “He’s good at what he does. Reckons it keeps his mind sharp or something. Usually he’s just making phone calls for insurance cases and inheritance settlements and whatever. But with me stuck in here, he’s getting pulled into more and more hands on stuff.”

  I nodded slowly. I agreed with Tim – it was dumb that they weren’t giving him more important cases. He was good, and if he thought he was ready, it didn’t make sense to keep him on the bench.

  “Have you tried talking to Harry?”

  Harry Baxter, Adam’s father, would be able to overrule Adam’s decisions about what cases to put Tim on. Tim nodded.

  “Yep. He just told me to be patient.”

  “Annoying.”

  He nodded. “On the plus side, though, I’ve had a lot more free time lately.”

  Tim was something of a workaholic, so this would definitely be a change of pace for him.

  “Ooh, are you thinking of getting a hobby?” I asked. “I’m going to a horrible community class tonight if you want to tag along.”

  “I already have a hobby,” said Tim. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a huge folder which he plonked on the desk between us. Frowning, I reached for it. When I flipped it open I recognised the top sheet of paper. It was a drawing of a building that I’d seen a couple of times before.

  “Admiring my brother’s artwork is your new hobby?” I said, but I knew what this meant. Tim had been looking into my brother’s case. He and I hadn’t spoken about it for mont
hs, and I’d kind of assumed he’d put it away. After all, he was originally only looking into it to keep himself occupied while we were investigating drugs at the local high school. After that case had been wrapped up I’d assumed he’d moved on.

  Apparently not, however.

  “I’ve been looking into what happened at that building. If I can figure out why it burned down, maybe I’ll be able to figure out why Topher ran away.”

  I frowned. “You think this whole thing is about a picture my brother drew of a random building?”

  “Think about it,” said Tim as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Why would Harcourt keep this picture in a file in his office if it didn’t matter?”

  I nodded. “I guess, but I don’t know...”

  “You told me the building burned down after your brother ran away,” Tim said. “But it didn’t. It burned down before he left.”

  I frowned, confused at first, but then I remembered. “Right, of course. I found out about it after he was gone, but it actually happened earlier.”

  “Which makes me think that maybe Topher knew something about what went down there.”

  I nodded slowly. “There was a body found in the building,” I said. “A woman.”

  Tim nodded. “I know,” he said. After an interval he asked, “Do you have any idea who it could have been?”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “She was alive when the fire started. I remember reading that.”

  Nodding, Tim said, “Yep. I read that too.”

  Thinking about all this stuff was making me feel a little ill and I guess it was showing on my face because Tim reached across the desk and put his hand on my arm. “Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just...”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “I think I’m just tired. I can’t think of anyone I’d prefer to have looking into my brother’s disappearance.”

  “You should go home and get some sleep.”

  “Ah, would that I could.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When I arrived home, I would have liked more than anything to pull on some soft pyjamas and crawl into bed with the air-conditioning turned up so high that I needed a blanket despite it being the height of summer. Maybe have a little cuddle with Arnold, my pet pig and close personal friend. Alas, that was not to be. Stacey, one of my best friends from high school and now one of my housemates, was not going to let that happen. She’d already made plans.