“Santa Claus?” #MFRWhooks

“Santa Claus?” He rubbed his eyes. “Be serious.”

 

“I am.” She offered the latest note, shuddering as she swept a wary eye over the bold, slashing letters, wet and weeping across the page. “He says he’ll see me tomorrow. That’s Christmas Eve.”

Jake plucked the paper from her fingers. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Just you.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier? I heard a similar report on the news. Maybe you should go to the police.”

She suppressed a groan. A faceless, nameless, dude dressed up like the jolly old elf was leaving sinister messages on her windshield, and the best Jake had to offer was “call the police”? Didn’t he think she’d done that? All she got for her trouble was a complaint number and a thank you. Who could blame the authorities when they had more crime than cops?

She combed trembling fingers through her hair. She’d rather leave the police out of the equation, but maybe if she showed them the letters they would take her seriously this time. Either way she wanted the harassment to stop.

She sighed. “Wha-what did you hear on the news?”

“They’re called ‘Santa Muggings.’ Several individuals have been robbed by Santa, mostly at the mall though. The police can’t really help without a better description.”

“Did they receive threats, too? Did you read that note, Jake? This guy is very specific.” Apprehension flickered through her stomach, twisting her in knots. She paced the small office. “What am I gonna do? Do you know how many Santas are running around this time of year?”

He grinned. “Can you imagine how this has hurt sales at the mall?”

She tossed him a frosty glance. “You’re making jokes, and I’m serious.”

Jake captured her hand. His warm, rough palm calmed her agitated nerves. She met his stare, and surprised delight flickered under his concern. Had he also noticed the tiny jolt arcing between them?

She rested her gaze on his lean, boyish features. His smooth toffee skin held a smattering of day-old stubble and seemed to be the only thing she could think of some days. Well, that and his mouth. She longed to lean across the desk, to taste his full, sexy lips and never stop. She blinked. Now was not the time.

“I’m here for you, honey.” He drew lazy circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

She loved the contrast of their skin tones, his a rich caramel and hers a warm chocolate. Butterflies whispered through her veins until Sara had a hard time concentrating on anything but him. “I think these notes may have something to do with your grandfather’s death.”

“Why do you say that?”

With reluctance, she withdrew her hand. “Every year Jerry would open twelve of the deposit boxes downstairs. If he found something valuable, he would split the contents with the rest of the staff, as kind of a year-end bonus.”