The Santa Sleuth Read online

  As he rubbed his thumb back and forth across the indentation, Amanda wondered at herself. She'd never told anyone about her worry stones, not even Kay.

  "I used to have one of these," Kirk was saying. "This has got a good weight." He jiggled it up and down and handed it to Amanda as Virginia skipped back toward them.

  "You haven't moved very much," she complained.

  "I know, it'll take us at least half an hour." Amanda reached for the white bag Virginia held. "Let's see, let's see."

  "You didn't get very many," Virginia said, opening the bag and taking out a big, swirled, multicolored sucker.

  "Is that a weapon?" Amanda asked, and then bit into a chocolate-covered cashew. Wonderful. She chewed, feeling better already.

  Belatedly, and with a mouth full of chocolate, she offered the bag to Kirk.

  Looking every inch the smug superior male, he declined. "Maybe later."

  Ha. He actually thought there would be chocolate left over. Amanda popped the rest of her piece into her mouth. Men didn't know everything.

  After an excruciating forty-minute wait and a trip to the restroom, Virginia had her Santa visit.

  To Amanda, he looked like a movie Santa Claus. As children and parents approached, a hush fell over the crowd. Magic was in the air. Christmas magic.

  "He might be real," Virginia insisted afterwards, as she ate a corn dog and drank lemonade in the food court. "If he passes my test, then I'll know he is."

  "What test is that?" Kirk asked.

  "Not going to tell." And she didn't, even though both Kirk and Amanda tried tricks and bribes.

  The Buffalo Bayou Santa received a nine-candy-cane rating, the ten rating being reserved for the real Santa as determined by Virginia.

  They said goodbye to the crew, who could tape much faster without waiting for Virginia to work her way through the lines.

  No other Santa quite matched up to the Buffalo Bayou Santa. At Providence Mall, Santa was high tech and when he was on a break, he was "entering data into his computer."

  At Riceland Mall, Santa was an ecologist and cautioned each child to help save the earth. He wore no fur on his red-velvet outfit, and his toes peeked out of sandals made of recycled automobile tires. This Santa turned down Virginia's request for a Super Nintendo and offered a hand-carved, wooden whale puzzle, instead. Virginia was unimpressed, even when Santa pointed out that a portion of the proceeds would be donated to saving the whales. This Santa rated no candy canes in her opinion.

  When Amanda balked at this, Kirk disagreed. "Kids don't want a lecture on the environment. They just want to see Santa."

  "Well, how do we know that he isn't Santa?" Amanda argued. Only when Kirk's expression registered did she realize what she'd said.

  Gulf Shores Mall rivaled Adobe South for most bizarre mix of traditional Christmas decorations and mall theme.

  Santa, in full regalia--Virginia thought it was actually the best costume of the lot--sat in a thatched beach hut. Real sand and fluorescent-colored conch shells added to the ambience. His elves were hula dancers with floral leis, and Virginia received a yellow plastic lei as her Santa treat.

  "I'm hungry," she announced.

  "I'm not surprised," murmured her father.

  "The food court is that way," Amanda pointed. "And the telephones are this way. I want to call the studio."

  The mall was crowded and noisy with holiday shoppers. A long line of teenagers waited for the telephones. Amanda fidgeted with a quarter and glared at the girl using the phone ahead of her. The girl turned away, her permed ponytail nearly catching Amanda in the face.

  An eternity later, Amanda shoved her quarter into the slot and plugged her ear with her finger. "Back off, will you?" she said to the teen behind her.

  "What?" asked a voice in the receiver.

  "Kay!"

  "I've seen Ron's tape from this morning," the producer said as soon as Amanda identified herself. "What's the kid whispering?"

  "She won't tell us. She insists that it's her test for the real Santa."

  "She thinks the big guy's out there somewhere, huh?"

  "Apparently so."

  "How will she know which one comes through for her?"

  "I've no idea." Amanda remembered Virginia's resolute face as she talked with each Santa. "I just hope she's not disappointed."

  "I think it's a great gimmick."

  "Kay--" Amanda hesitated "--to Virginia, this is all real. I don't want her to get hurt."

  "Then find out what she wants and make sure she gets it."

  "Wait a minute--I'm not Santa."

  "You may have to be." Kay chuckled. "Can you bring Virginia back here to tape the ratings?"

  Amanda winced. "It's getting late and we're tired and full of mall food."

  "Tomorrow, then. We'll start running these on Monday."

  Would this story never end? Amanda wondered as she found Kirk and Virginia eating pizza.

  "Amanda, we saved you the one with the most pepperoni on it." Virginia pulled a wad of napkins from the metal dispenser and dropped them at Amanda's place.

  Amanda mustered a smile. "Thanks."

  "You'll note that it's the only one left," Kirk pointed out. "If you want more, I--"

  "No! No more." Amanda covered her eyes with her hands, to Virginia's giggling delight. "We've been eating all day long."

  "It's been an awesome day. Where do we go next?" Virginia asked, eyeing Amanda's pizza.

  "That's up to your dad. Bellaire Mall is the only other mall within the city limits." She looked at Kirk. It would be dark outside by now, and it had been a long day.

  "Please, Daddy?" Virginia bounced on the white stool. "I'm not tired."

  "Yes, I can see that," Kirk responded dryly. "Okay, one more mall and then we're done."

  "Except for taping the candy-cane rating back at the studio," Amanda slipped in.

  "What?" Kirk looked like a man at the end of his rope.

  "Which we can do tomorrow," she added hastily.

  They actually sang Christmas carols as they made the long drive from Gulf Shores Mall to Bellaire Mall. Amanda had parked her car back at the first mall and she'd enjoyed being a passenger for once.

  Kirk's car was a large, late-model American luxury car. He'd responded to Amanda's raised eyebrows with a nod toward the odometer. "I use this car to drive clients all over Houston."

  Amanda blinked twice at the high mileage.

  "Buying a house is stressful and I want them to be able to relax and think," Kirk said, opening the door for her.

  Amanda remembered that now, while the car hummed along the freeway, cushioning them from bumps and noise.

  She could get used to this sort of luxury.

  "What can we get to eat at this mall?" Virginia asked as they pulled into the well-lit parking lot.

  "Try something from the vegetable food group," Kirk told her. "You haven't had any fruit or vegetables all day long."

  "I have too! I drink berry slushes--that's fruit."

  "So, what about a vegetable?" Amanda took sides with Kirk. It felt rather domestic.

  "Pickles. They're a vegetable."

  "No, they aren't," Amanda denied automatically.

  "They're made out of cucumbers," Virginia said with a self-righteous air. "Cucumbers are vegetables."

  "But--"

  "She'll be all right." Kirk put a hand on Amanda's shoulder and leaned close, murmuring in her ear. "This is one argument you won't win."

  Amanda, jolted by his touch, barely heard him. It was meant to be an impersonal touch, she knew, but that wasn't the way her body reacted to it.

  She wanted to be touched again. By him. And soon. As a matter of fact, she--Amanda Donnelly, independent woman--wanted to nestle, yes, nestle, against him. Not only that, out of her own mouth, she’d heard words that sounded suspiciously parental.

  The malls were obviously piping something through the air-filtering systems. Either that, or they were putting something in the food. Sublimi
nal Advertising: How far will they go?

  Amanda sniffed as they entered Bellaire Mall.

  With the self-confidence of a veteran Santa Sleuth, Virginia marched toward Santa's workshop.

  A low-key traditional display, it was actually Amanda's personal favorite. There was none of the awe connected with the Buffalo Bayou Santa. When Santa was on his break, he was "in his workshop, overseeing the elves."

  "Fake snow," Virginia announced, grabbing a handful and tossing it into the air.

  "Virginia!" Both Kirk and Amanda chastised her in unison.

  Kirk smiled down at her. "You're getting the hang of this parenting business."

  Virginia took her place in line as Amanda's answering smile wavered.

  Parenting business. It had been years since she'd thought about having a child. A child had been out of the question during her brief marriage. Even more so after it.

  Now she didn't have time for a child. She had goals, and a child would take away from her goals. In fact, Amanda's last promotion had occurred during Maria Alvarez's maternity leave. And Maria hadn't had a promotion in a long while. She'd cut back on her work hours to spend more time with her baby.

  Amanda couldn't afford to do that now. She had enough lost time to make up for.

  When it was Virginia's turn, a male elf--the first male elf Amanda had seen--approached them. "Would you two like to get in the picture with your daughter?"

  "Oh, we're not--" Amanda started to say, but to her surprise, Kirk grabbed her elbow.

  "Yes. We would like one of us all together." He urged her toward Virginia and Santa Claus.

  "Kirk! You don't want me in the picture."

  "Yes, I do." He looked down at her, his eyes dark. "I've enjoyed today, and I'd like a memento."

  Amanda didn't know what to say. "But I’m a mess." She fluffed her bangs nervously.

  "Not to me," he said in a low voice.

  Amanda stared at him, trying to fathom his expression. Was he simply caught up in the "spirit of Christmas?" Poisoned by too much mall food?

  "How many copies?" asked the elf.

  "One," answered Kirk as he turned toward the camera.

  She caught the look he gave Virginia and the girl’s adoring one in return. Virginia was thrilled, and she beamed at the camera.

  Amanda's eyes stung and suddenly she heard herself say, "Make that two copies."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Amanda felt a pang of regret as she directed Kirk to her parked car in the Adobe South Mall lot. She wasn't ready for the day to end. It had been more a day of companionship and pleasure than one of work. Most of Amanda's days were workdays. Even when she technically had a day off, she found herself stopping by the studio.

  Amanda couldn't remember the last time she'd simply frittered time away with friends.

  Come to think of it, other than her co-workers, did she still have any friends?

  Kirk parked his car behind hers, left the engine running and got out to open her door.

  "I want to sit up front now," Virginia said with a yawn. She climbed from the rear seat and gave Amanda a sleepy hug. "Bye, Amanda."

  "Bye, Virginia." Amanda felt oddly touched. She hugged the little girl back and, to her surprise, Virginia responded by kissing her on the cheek.

  Flustered, Amanda tried to cover her awkward feelings by fastening Virginia's seat belt before straightening and facing Kirk.

  She would've given anything to know what he was thinking at that moment. His face was expressionless, but his eyes held a vulnerability she hadn't expected.

  Her hand shook as she fitted the key into her car door. "Thanks for coming today," she said, trying to fill the too-intimate silence with words. "I noticed that Virginia seemed very natural in front of the camera and was more patient waiting in line than I was. I'm sure your being there had a lot to do with it."

  "I enjoyed the day as well," Kirk said quietly. "I don't get a chance to spend much time with Virginia."

  He didn’t make many chances to spend time with Virginia, Amanda said to herself, then felt guilty. He was a single parent--how could she possibly know what that was like?

  They looked at the little girl, who had fallen asleep.

  "Bye, Kirk," Amanda said in a whimsical imitation of Virginia.

  "Bye, Amanda," he echoed.

  At the exact instant Amanda would have turned to sit in her car, Kirk bent his head.

  I hope he doesn't think I expected to be kissed, was her embarrassed thought as she instinctively turned her cheek toward him.

  Kirk must have been aiming for her cheek because his kiss landed squarely on her lips.

  They parted abruptly and then laughed at the awkwardness.

  Then, just as Amanda stepped back, Kirk placed both hands on either side of her face, holding her still.

  Their laughter died.

  Amanda was lost in the brown depths of his eyes. His head descended slowly, forcing her to realize that he intended to kiss her, and if she didn't want him to, she had ample time to pull away.

  Not only did Amanda not pull away, she leaned toward him, drawn by a compelling need to know his touch.

  Kirk's lips met hers in a very definite kiss with a very definite thoroughness--which created very definite longings within her.

  His hands were warm against her face, and she felt cherished and protected, even standing in the parking lot under the pink halogen security lights.

  He broke the kiss slowly, as slowly as he'd begun it. "Good night, Amanda," he whispered, and stepped back, drawing his hands away with a final caress.

  Amanda was able to get into her car and start the engine only because she knew he'd wait there until he was certain she was safely on her way.

  But Amanda didn't feel safe. As she drove off, she was very much afraid that she was leaving a piece of her heart behind.

  ***

  "Amanda!" Kay snapped her fingers. "Did you hear me?"

  "Uh, yes." Amanda focused her wandering attention. "Humble and Kingwood want their Santas rated."

  "Can the kid do it?"

  "I don't know."

  "Amanda. You're supposed to say 'Sure Kay, I'll get right on it.'"

  "She's in a Christmas pageant." But telling Kay about the pageant was only a stalling tactic Amanda used while she decided if she wanted to see Kirk and Virginia again.

  His kiss had thoroughly rattled her. Worse, it had made her dissatisfied with her life, reminded her what she'd been missing. It wasn't fair. For years, she'd worked toward her goal of becoming a full producer, with an eye on senior producer, then executive producer—the top position. Then maybe making the jump to network television. She’d allowed friendships to wither and her life to revolve around her work. Until now, she hadn't particularly minded. Why should one kiss change all that?

  Amanda wasn't certain she wanted to find out.

  She hadn't seen Kirk since Saturday night. Mrs. Webster had driven Virginia to the studio the next afternoon, making pointed remarks about people who worked on Sundays. Amanda was both relieved and disappointed not to face Kirk again.

  Even though she had a legitimate reason, it was only Kay's prodding that made Amanda dial Kirk McEnery's agency now.

  "Kirk McEnery."

  When did he start answering his own telephone? "Hi. It's Amanda." Oh, that sounded real professional.

  "Hello, Amanda." Kirk's voice instantly warmed.

  "I wanted to talk to you about Virginia," she blurted out.

  "What about Virginia?" he asked amiably.

  "Uhm ... She should've thought about what to say before phoning him. This was awful. He hadn't called her; he probably thought she was chasing him. Well, so what? She was an independent woman. If she wanted to chase, she should be able to chase.

  But she wasn't chasing. In fact, she had begun to wonder why he wasn't chasing.

  "Are you there?" he asked.

  Amanda rustled some papers on her desk. "Yes, sorry. Someone just put something in front of me." Lo
osely covering the receiver, she pretended to speak to someone in her office, "I'll be with you in a minute." Removing her hand from the telephone, she apologized again. "Sorry about that."

  "Busy day?"

  "Aren't they all?" Amanda laughed even as she made a face. Reduced to playing games. How humiliating.

  "Too busy for lunch?"

  Amanda's mouth fell open. "Lunch? I ... sure." She stared down at her black vest and pants. She wasn't dressed for a ritzy lunch date, and she knew Kirk would be faultlessly attired as usual.

  "Good. I'll come to your side of town. Know any good parks?"

  "Parks?"

  "Where we can eat," he explained with no hint of impatience. "Have you been outside lately?"

  Actually, Amanda was rarely outside. "I drove to work this morning. I could hardly see."

  "The fog has lifted, the sun is out. This has turned into one of those days nature gives Houston to apologize for August."

  Was this lighthearted man the same Kirk McEnery she'd encountered before? He'd probably just earned a big fat commission.

  "It's a day for picnicking in the park. Are you game?"

  "A picnic!" His enthusiasm finally got to her. Suddenly, there was nothing else Amanda would rather do. "Well, there's Memorial Park, but that's so big."

  "I'll find you," Kirk said with confidence. "Pick an entrance."

  "What about food?"

  "I'll take care of it."

  Feeling dangerously pleased, Amanda suggested meeting at the southeast entrance and spent the next twenty minutes wondering if her upcoming lunch with Kirk counted as a date.

  Then she wondered why it was so important to make the distinction. Couldn't she just relax and enjoy his company?

  ***

  "What's the matter?" Kirk popped the lid off a plastic bowl and began attacking the contents with a plastic fork.

  Amanda gazed at an identical bowl he'd set in front of her. To her picnics meant hot dogs or sandwiches and warm, squishy fruit, which usually ended up in the garbage. "The men I know don't eat salads."

  "This isn't just a salad," he said, mixing in some black goop. "This is grilled-chicken-fajita salad with black bean vinaigrette."