Chapter 36

 

 

“That’s the guy!” shouted the man Melissa always called Mack. One of several Macks.

Foster rolled down his window and stuck his head out. “What guy?”

“Guy that stole from the collection a couple weeks ago.”

“So why you hanging around? Get him!” Foster stared after the fleeing figure. He had no clear idea what he planned to do with the man once they caught him, but some primeval surge of anger said that the man needed to be taught you don’t steal from Foster Fordyce.

He jammed the VW back in gear. Its tires spun on the dirt driveway as he pulled around the back and parked it beside the bus.

A few minutes later, the security guard came back, barely able to breathe. “Guy got away,” he huffed. “Outran me.”

Foster stared pointedly at the guard’s jiggling midsection. No wonder, you tub of lard. “Keep an eye out. If he comes back around here, I don’t want him getting away. And tell the other guards too. A lesson needs to be taught here. Nobody rips off the money we’re collecting for a good cause.”

“Right, boss. I’ll tell Joe and we’ll both be watching the rest of the night.”

Foster stared after the man as he walked away, limping slightly. Whether they caught the thief or not, it didn’t matter. There had been just enough light from the street lamps, and Foster never forgot a face.

“I feel like cruising the area, see if I can spot the jerk,” Foster said as he and Melissa got out of the car.

“Honey, it’s Christmas Eve. And it’s our last night at the resort … Come on …”

He should have told her to screw Christmas Eve. He’d already endured a shopping trip that was basically an excuse for him to buy her a diamond bracelet she’d already picked out for herself, lunch at some chichi place where the waiters stared down their noses, and an ungodly two hours of listening to a kids’ choir—the kind with the high voices that made him grind his teeth.

Instead, he ushered her politely into the bus and asked her to tally up the boxes of cash to make sure nothing had disappeared while he made a call and added two more security guys back on the job for the night. No one groused about having to work Christmas Eve—Foster paid them well.

“I’m going outside to check some stuff,” he told Melissa. “You can wait in here where it’s warm and then we’ll go.”

He wanted to be sure none of the exterior compartments on the bus had been breached. While he was out, he went around the building to check the doors there, as well. Everything seemed just as he’d left it. Maybe the Macks were doing their job after all.

The reinforcements arrived and he collected his wife for the drive back to spend their final night in luxury. It would be the last such night for a while, if his plans worked out. But she didn’t know that yet.

Although Foster hoped they would spend Christmas Eve in their suite with Melissa wearing the lacy red little outfit he was going to present to her, it seemed she had more of a Currier and Ives ideal in mind. She pointed him in the direction of downtown Scottsdale where the holiday light display was said to be fantastic.

Bundled in scarves and gloves and puffy jackets—although the temperature was well above fifty—she took his arm and they walked up and down the streets. Shop windows held elaborate displays and fake snow drifted through the air, dispensed from some unseen mechanism at the rooftops. Vendors sold hot chocolate and she insisted they each get one. He griped about there not being any schnapps to add to his.

“Get into the spirit, honey,” she said.

“Is this how you spent your holidays as a kid, doing stuff like this?” He imagined an adorable little blonde girl putting extra marshmallows in her cocoa, and he felt a surge of love for her.

“Well, kind of,” she said with a grin. “My daddy would be working the crowd in a place like this, picking pockets while they stared at the lights.”

“Seriously?” Living with two drunks, he’d never spent a Christmas Eve out in a public place as a kid. The parents were usually passed out on the sofa by eight, and if he wanted a Christmas tree he put it up himself.

“I could show you Daddy’s techniques,” she said, “but I don’t want to work tonight. It’s Christmas.”

They rounded a corner and saw people heading toward a church with open doors.

“Oh, Foster, let’s go there,” she said.

He gave her a long stare. Seriously? Then he shrugged. Okay, might be interesting to see someone else put on the show for a change.

They took seats near the back and watched as the congregation stood, sat, or knelt on cue. Since almost all of it was in Latin, he quickly grew bored and let his mind wander back to the details of his plan for leaving Arizona. He hadn’t told Melissa much of it yet. At the moment she seemed transfixed by the ceremony taking place up front.

“I never knew you were raised Catholic,” he said, as they walked back to the car afterward.

“Oh, I wasn’t.”

“But you understood what was going on in there tonight?”

“The words? Heck no. But I liked some of that priest’s moves. You know, the hand gestures, benedicting everyone or whatever you call it, waving the incense around. We could add something like that to our routine. The candles were a nice touch. People really lapped it up.”

“So you really were working on Christmas Eve,” he teased.

“More like research. A person can always learn something new.”

They had reached the car and he unlocked her door. “Speaking of new things—” He almost said something about hitting the road in the bus, but thought better of it. “Well, it’s Christmas and I have a nice sexy little surprise for you back at the room.”

She made a purring sound and teased him with suggestive ideas as they headed back to their suite.