Yuletide Defender (5 page)

Cal's glasses rested in the mass of gray curls on top of his head. He pulled them off and thumped them on the newspaper he held. “Great job, Rachel. We had the story before anybody. You never did tell me how you got it so fast.”

“I got a tip that something was going down on that street corner. I thought I'd stake it out.” She shrugged. “I guess it was a matter of being in the right place at the right time.”

“Well, keep up the good work, but not so much that the competition wants to steal you from the
Beacon.
”

Rachel reached around Cal and pushed the down button again. “I'm glad you appreciate my work.” The doors slid open and Rachel stepped in before Cal could respond. “I'm on my way to lunch. See you later.”

She smiled and punched the button for the lobby. Cal waved and turned away as the doors closed. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief to have sidestepped Cal's questions. With Matt and Philip concerned about her source, she didn't need to add Cal to the list.

When the elevator reached the lobby, she stepped to the double front doors and peered outside. The weather forecast for the day had mentioned a chance of snow.

A woman stopped outside and pushed the front door open. As Rachel moved out of the way for her to enter, she glanced over her shoulder. Across the lobby, a young man leaned against the wall, his stare directed at her. The heavy down jacket he wore looked like many others she'd seen, but it was the bulk of his chest and arms underneath that caught her attention. A wool knit cap covered his head, hiding his hair.

She'd never seen him in the building before. As his gaze met hers, he pushed away from the wall and took a step toward her.

Fear rushed through Rachel's body and she backed toward
the door. She could see his face better now. She was positive she'd never seen him before. He stuck his hand in his coat pocket as he advanced toward her. Her throat went dry. Was he reaching for something inside? A gun?

Rachel turned and bolted through the front door. The parking lot at the side of the building where she'd left her rental car this morning looked as if it were a mile away. She glanced over her shoulder. The man had followed her onto the sidewalk. He took a step in her direction before he halted, turned and ran across the street.

Rachel slowed her step and watched him climb into a red car. She had no idea the make of the automobile, so she concentrated on trying to remember how it looked. A dent creased the back fender and patches of chipped paint covered the trunk. The motor roared to life and the wheels squealed as the car shot into traffic.

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief and shook her head. She had to quit thinking about the bullet striking the bricks above her head and the two dead bodies on the street last night. If she didn't, she'd end up suspecting everyone she came in contact with was out to kill her.

A bell clanged and Rachel whirled in the direction of the parking lot. A Santa Claus, the bell in his hand pealing out a familiar holiday sound, stood at the corner, his kettle ready for donations from passersby. The reminder of a time-honored Christmas tradition calmed the fear she'd experienced a few minutes earlier. Since she was a child, she'd looked forward to seeing the Santas who dotted the streets of Lake City each December—their mission to see underprivileged children have a happy holiday.

Inhaling the cold air, she smiled and strode forward. The memory of how her mother struggled to provide a good Christmas for her two daughters had caused her to vow she would never pass a Santa's kettle without dropping in some money.
A vigilante and murders across the city weren't going to take away her yuletide spirit.

She stopped in front of the Santa and tried to suppress a smile. He wasn't as chubby as others she'd seen in the past, but that didn't matter. It was the size of one's heart that really described a person. To her way of thinking, anyone who would dress up in a Santa suit and stand on a street ringing a bell for donations had to have a heart the size of the whole state.

She grasped the strap of her purse and pulled it from her shoulder. “Let me get some money for you.”

The Santa adjusted his beard, bent down and set his bell on the sidewalk. “Thank you.”

Rachel grasped the bag in both hands and unzipped the purse. “I'm glad to help—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the Santa grabbed her purse and pulled it from her hands. Clutching it tightly, he bolted across the street.

Speechless, Rachel gaped at the disappearing figure in the fur-trimmed red suit running as if his life depended on it. After a few seconds she regained her senses enough to realize she'd just been the victim of a robbery. She dashed into the street in pursuit and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Stop! Thief!”

A car horn honked and brakes squealed. Rachel glanced around to see a delivery truck bearing down on her. She jumped backward and groaned when the vehicle blocked her view of the retreating figure. When it passed, the Santa had disappeared.

The despair she felt at having been robbed turned to anger. In the last two days she had been brought face-to-face with crime in Lake City. Maybe a purse snatching didn't rank as high as murder on the worst crime scale, but she felt violated.

She mentally listed the contents of her purse—a wallet containing thirty dollars, a credit card that was almost maxed
out, her driver's license, cell phone, a necklace her mother had given her and makeup. The only thing she couldn't replace was the necklace, which had been a gift when she graduated college. She'd intended to get the clasp repaired today.

Rachel clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. How could she have been so careless? But then who would ever suspect Santa Claus of being a thief? She hoped he had a good time with her few possessions.

With a sigh she turned back to the newspaper office. She had to make a report to the police. Even if she never saw her purse again, she didn't want other people in Lake City to be robbed by a thief posing as Kriss Kringle.

She stopped before she entered the building and thought of Matt. What would he say? The memory of his words earlier returned, and an uneasy feeling crept over her. Maybe she should tell him about her meeting with the source tonight. Her instincts told her she could trust the person she'd met with and talked to on the phone. On the other hand, she thought she could trust Santa Claus and she'd been wrong about that.

Rachel straightened her shoulders and walked to the elevator. She knew what she had to do. Getting a story that would boost one up the ladder to success didn't mean a thing if you were dead. She was going to call Matt and tell him about her next meeting with the source.

 

He entered his apartment and dropped the sack containing the Santa Claus suit on the floor. When he'd run back to his car, it had only taken a minute to discard the outfit and stuff it in the sack before he drove away. It was a good thing he knew the neighborhood around the
Beacon
building. He'd had the perfect spot to park his car and change clothes undetected.

With a smile he spread the morning newspaper on the kitchen table and dumped the contents of Rachel Long's purse on it. He chuckled at the assortment of articles that tumbled out. There were the items you'd expect to find in any woman's
purse—wallet, keys, makeup. But the other things told the story of the woman who had written about him in the morning edition.

For a moment his hatred for Rachel flashed through him like a raging fire. She'd called him a vigilante, a rogue killer who endangered everyone by his disregard for the law. He laughed. The only law he lived by was an eye for an eye. Why couldn't she see the service he was doing the citizens of Lake City by taking criminals off the street?

He took a deep breath and willed his heart to resume its normal beat. He couldn't let his dislike for the
Beacon
's hot-shot investigative reporter overshadow his goal. There was too much at stake. He'd take care of her when the time was right.

He directed his attention back to the items from her purse. A sterling silver cross on a chain caught his eye, and he held it up. Stones he assumed to be diamonds covered the surface of the cross. A close examination revealed that the clasp was broken.

“Oh, too bad, Miss Long.” He laid the necklace at the edge of the table. “I'll put this away for safekeeping. It might come in handy later on.”

He picked up a receipt from a supermarket and glanced down the list of items she'd purchased. Yogurt, cereal, bananas, coffee. Breakfast items for someone on the go. Receipts from restaurants told him she didn't cook much at home.

Several envelopes lay on top of the pile of items and he picked them up. One contained her November paycheck stub. He smiled at her salary. She wasn't getting rich but she made enough to live comfortably.

The deductions caught his eye and he frowned. Over half her paycheck had been deposited into a savings account. She was paying all her bills and living on only half of her income. He wondered what that was all about. Maybe he could find the answer to his question.

He smiled and picked up her cell phone. It seemed only a few years ago that cell phones were unheard of. Now they were a link to everything and everybody in a person's life. And Rachel's phone was about to give him the answers he needed to put an end to the nosy reporter.

He reached for a box on the kitchen cabinet and sat down at the table. Opening the box, he read the instructions. When he'd finished, he picked up Rachel's cell phone and began the process of downloading spyware to her phone. When he was finished, he would have access to every conversation, text and email she received or sent.

There were still a few details he had to take care of before the fun could begin. He had to toss the purse in a Dumpster and then call the police to report seeing a Santa Claus throwing a woman's bag into the garbage bin. After that, he'd know every move Rachel Long made.

She had no idea what was about to happen to her.

M
att Franklin swallowed the last bite of his hamburger and washed it down with a soft drink. Eating lunch at his desk was getting to be a habit, but he didn't mind. He'd never cared much for joining the guys on the force at the crowded diner down the street from the station. He always felt out of place with all the good-natured laughter and joking that went on with his colleagues.

That feeling of insecurity probably came from all the time he spent alone growing up. He'd just never learned to fit in. Quiet times—like candlelit dinners and walks along the lakeshore—appealed to him more. He wondered if Rachel Long enjoyed things like that. He kept telling himself not to get his hopes up too high about their date on Saturday night but he couldn't help it.

From the first time he'd seen her, there was something about her that drew him to her. And yet he was afraid to get better acquainted. He'd been disappointed too many times before.

One of the things he liked about Rachel was that she had a reserved quality about her that made him want to know her better. She accepted him as just another police officer she'd met at crime scenes and never plied him with questions about his personal life. Most women he'd known in the past weren't like that. Their main interests centered on his family.

He'd been a little uncomfortable this morning when Rachel had mentioned her family to Philip. Although he dreaded telling her about his, he really wanted to know more about what it was like for her growing up.

The ring of the phone on his desk interrupted his thoughts. “Detective Matt Franklin. May I help you?”

“Matt, this is Rachel.”

His heartbeat quickened at the sound of her voice. “Rachel, to what do I owe the pleasure of a call from you?”

A long sigh echoed in his ear. “I wanted you to know I've learned two things today.”

Puzzled, he frowned. “And what would those be?”

“Well, for one I've learned what a BOLO means.”

His frown turned into a grin. “That's what the police use now instead of APB, all-points bulletin.”

“I know.”

“And what does a ‘be on the lookout' have to do with what else you've learned?”

“Because the second thing I know is that you can't trust Santa Claus. The police have a BOLO out for him.”

He sat up straight and gripped the phone tighter. “Rachel, what are you talking about?”

Matt listened as she told him about the purse snatching. “I've reported the incident to the police, but I wanted you to know that today isn't much better than last night. There is one good thing, though. At least Santa didn't shoot at me.”

Matt shook his head. “I don't like this, Rachel. There are too many things happening to you at once.”

“But I don't think the two could be related. I can't imagine a Ranger or a Viper dressing up like Santa just to steal my purse. And why would the sniper want it? If he wanted to do something to me, he could have shot me last night.”

“Still, it could be related.” He paused a moment. “Maybe patrol can spot something this afternoon. I'll check on it and let you know if they find anything.”

“Thanks, Matt. I appreciate that. Also there's one more thing I need to tell you.”

“What's that?”

“My source called again right after you and Philip left.”

“And?”

“He wants me to meet him again tonight.”

“Did you tell him that Philip and I want to meet him?”

“No, but I wanted to tell you because after all that's happened I'm not sure I want to go to that meeting alone.”

Matt nodded. “That's a wise decision. Do you want us to go with you?”

“I'm afraid we might scare him off if too many people show up. I want you to go with me and stay in the car in case I need help. Will you agree to that?”

Matt pondered the question and saw the logic of not having two policemen accompany a reporter into the park. “Okay, but I don't feel right about not telling Philip.”

“This may be our only chance to get more information from my source. If I go out there with two policemen and he finds out, I may lose him as a source and he'll lose his chance for a better life. You can explain this to Philip later.”

Matt sighed. “Okay, Rachel. I'll do it. And I'll check on your purse this afternoon.”

“Thanks, Matt. I had the keys to the rental car in there, so I've called for another set.”

“Do you need me to pick them up for you?”

“No, thanks, they'll bring them to me. And thanks for understanding about the source. Can you meet me in the
Beacon
parking lot about ten o'clock tonight?”

“I can do that. I'll see you then.”

“Bye.”

Matt hung up the phone and shook his head. Why hadn't he asked her to have dinner with him first? He'd been thinking about how he wanted to get to know her better right before
she called, and he had just passed up an opportunity to spend some time with her.

Maybe his college buddies had been right about him. He shied away from women because he feared he would learn some things about them he didn't like. In his heart he knew no one was perfect, and he wasn't looking for perfection. All he wanted was a woman whose eyes he could stare into and see love shining there for him instead of the flashing dollar signs he'd encountered in every other woman he'd ever known.

He dreaded telling Rachel about his wealthy family. No matter how hard he'd tried to distance himself from all the trappings of his mother's jet-set life, it had ruined every relationship he'd ever had. Maybe Rachel would look at him as an ordinary man dedicated to police work instead of the wealthy son from a family who traveled in an elite social circle.

He wanted to believe it but he didn't know for sure. Only time would tell.

 

Rachel glanced at her watch. She'd been so busy all afternoon that the time had just slipped away. It was nearly five o'clock. She reached to turn off her computer but stopped when someone knocked on her closed office door.

“Come on in.”

The door swung open and her eyes grew wide. Matt stood in the doorway holding her purse toward her. A smile curled his lips. “Did you lose something?”

She jumped up and ran to him. “Where did you find it?”

He stepped into her office, grinned and held the bag out to her. “As much as I'd like to take credit for some good detective work, I can't. We received a call at the station this afternoon. The caller said he'd just seen a Santa Claus toss a woman's purse into the Dumpster in back of Taylor's Automotives. A patrol officer went over there and found your purse inside.”

She took the purse from him and clutched it to her body. “Thanks for bringing it over.”

He inclined his head toward her. “You'd better check it out and see what's missing.”

“Okay.” She hurried back to her chair behind her desk and opened the purse.

Matt slid into the chair across from her. “We kept a list of everything we found inside. We need you to tell us what was stolen.”

Rachel did a quick inventory and glanced up at Matt. “My cash is gone, but it was only about thirty dollars. My credit card is missing, but I called and reported it stolen this afternoon. Thank goodness my cell phone and driver's license are here. The only other thing I can't find is the necklace my mother gave me when I graduated from college. The clasp was broken and I was going to take it to the jeweler on my lunch hour. I sure do hate to lose that.”

Matt nodded. “What does it look like?”

“It's a sterling silver cross set with diamonds and hangs on an eighteen-inch chain. It always reminded me of my mother and sister. I'll miss not having it around my neck.”

Sadness flickered in Matt's eyes. “I'm sorry. I'll put out a description to all the pawnshops in town. We might get lucky and be able to return it to you.”

Rachel smiled. “I appreciate that. My sister, Cara, will be so upset when she finds out it was stolen.”

“Is it an expensive necklace?”

Rachel shook her head. “Not really. It's the sentiment behind it that makes it special. Every time Cara saw it she would tell everybody that it was a sign that I went to college. I suppose it was special to her because deep in her heart she realized she could never do that.”

Matt tilted his head and frowned. “Your sister couldn't go to college? Why?”

Rachel took a deep breath and wondered how Matt would respond when she told him. “Well, you see, she couldn't go because Cara has mental and physical disabilities.”

Matt's eyes grew large. “She's a mentally challenged child?”

Rachel laughed. “Yes, but she's not a child anymore. She's ten years younger than I am, but she's my best friend.”

“It must be nice having a sister. I'm an only child.”

Rachel took a deep breath and stood. “I have to admit, when I was younger I sometimes wished I could be an only child, but I wouldn't give up Cara for anything.”

Matt's solemn stare made her wonder what he thought about the revelation about her sister. If he was anything like the guys she'd known in the past, he would find some excuse to hurry off. She waited for him to rise and tell her something had come up and he wouldn't be able to take her to the ballet Saturday night.

Matt stared at her a moment longer before he glanced at his watch. “I didn't know it was getting so late. Are you hungry? We could go grab something to eat before it's time to meet your source. How about it?”

Rachel's heart soared. “I'd like that.”

He glanced at his watch. “I need to go back to the station and finish up some loose ends there. How about we meet in an hour?”

A chime from Rachel's computer alerted her that an email had just arrived. She frowned. “That's from my editor. He always finds something else for me to do just before it's time for me to leave. Let me see what he wants. This may take some time.”

Matt pulled a notepad and pen from his pocket, scribbled something on it and pushed the paper across her desk. “This is my cell phone number. Call me when you get ready to leave and I'll meet you in front of the police station.” He hesitated. “That is, unless you'd prefer I drive.”

She laughed and stood up. “It's the least I can do. Especially since I've protested so much about this being my story.”

“Okay, I'll see you later.”

Her stomach fluttered when he flashed a smile at her, and she clasped her hands in front of her in an effort to stop the trembling. What was the matter with her? She hadn't been affected like that since she had her first crush in high school.

When Matt walked from the office, she sank down in her chair, rested her elbows on the desktop and covered her face with her hands. Her skin warmed at the memory of Matt's smile. She'd told Matt earlier today that she'd learned two things. Now she had to admit she'd made a third discovery. If she didn't watch out, she could become interested in Matt. She had to make sure that didn't happen.

 

Matt finished the paperwork on a case he and Philip had closed earlier and laid the folder aside. Across the small office, Philip glanced up from his desk where he was studying the reports on the shooting deaths the night before.

Philip rubbed his eyes and stood up. “I just don't understand it. How could a good cop like Tom Carr get involved with the gangs?”

Matt shrugged. “I don't know, but we've seen it happen before. An officer gets closer to retirement and he begins to think how little he's going to be drawing. So he decides he has to make some quick money. Unfortunately, taking bribes to look the other way can be mighty tempting.”

Philip nodded. “I guess so, but it sure didn't pay off for Tom. He's dead and his family has to deal with the fact that he died a criminal just like the ones he arrested for years. It's sad.”

Matt thought of Tom's wife, who was a member of his church, and guilt flowed through him. “I need to go see Janine, but I thought I'd give her some time. I heard the funeral is going to be a private one. And there isn't going to be a wake.”

“Maybe we can visit her together in a day or two after the funeral.”

“That sounds good. We'll plan on that.”

Philip reached for his jacket that hung on the back of his chair. “I think I'll go on home. It's been a long day.”

Matt thought of the long night ahead and sighed. “Yeah. Have a good night.”

Philip waved as he headed out the door. “See you tomorrow.”

Matt glanced at his watch and wondered why Rachel hadn't called. It had been over an hour since he'd arrived back at the office. He'd no sooner had the thought than his cell phone rang.

He pulled the phone to his ear. “Hello.”

“Hi, Matt. This is Rachel. I'm on my way to the newspaper parking lot and should be at the station in about fifteen minutes.”

“Look, Rachel, are you sure you want to go through with this? I still don't feel good about you meeting this guy alone. I think I should be the one to talk to him.”

“Oh, no.” A small groan came over the line and he frowned.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing. I was having trouble getting the door of the rental car to unlock. I'll be glad to get my car back, but the garage said it could be several weeks. Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I want to go through with this. We decided that I would talk to him and you would wait in the car. There's no need to change things now.”

“All right, but I may try to convince you differently at dinner. Hurry up. I'm starving.”

She laughed and a thrill raced through him. “See you in a few minutes.”

He ended the call and stood by his desk thinking how Rachel had looked the first time he'd met her at a murder
scene. She hadn't been wearing a hat that day and the wind had blown her blond hair about her face. When she tucked a strand behind her ear, he gazed into the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen. She had smiled and he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind since.