“Diana? Wake up, Diana.”
“No, Mom . . . not yet.” Diana burrowed a little deeper under the covers, and tried to go back to sleep. But her mother was very persistent. Was it time for school already?
“Come on, Di. It’s morning. Wake up.”
Diana groaned, and tried to open her eyes. That wasn’t her mother’s voice. It must be Cindy, waking her up for her eight o’clock class. But Cindy’s voice was very deep, even though she was almost whispering. And the hand on her arm felt much bigger than Cindy’s hand. And why was she sleeping in her clothes?
“Diana . . . please. I need you.”
Diana’s eyes fluttered open and she recognized Jay’s face in the dim light. Without thinking about what she was doing or why she was doing it, she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.
At first the kiss was sleepy, a mere brushing of lips and a snuggling together that made Diana feel very safe and warm. But then Jay kissed her back, and Diana felt a shiver of delightful anticipation that made her tremble and press herself even more tightly against him. She still felt safe and warm, but there was a new emotion added to the mix. She wanted more than simple kissing, more than simple hugging. She wanted Jay to slide under the covers with her, and . . .
“Oh!” Diana sat up, blinking. She’d suddenly remembered where she was, and it was lucky that no one else was awake. They were sleeping in booths at the Crossroads Pub, and that was much too public a place for the intimate thoughts that were running through her mind.
“Forget where you were?”
Jay was grinning down at her, and Diana blushed as she nodded. Luckily, the lights were dim, and he couldn’t see that her face was bright red with acute embarrassment.
“Maybe we should have slept in the furniture store . . . all by ourselves.”
Diana’s blush deepened as she smiled up at Jay and shook her head. “Actually, I think it’s a really good thing we didn’t!”
“You’re very beautiful when you’re sleeping . . . you know that?” Jay reached out to touch her face in a one-finger caress that traced the shape of her lips. “You looked just like an innocent little girl. Until you pulled me down to kiss you. Then you weren’t quite so innocent.”
Diana giggled. “That was your fault. At first I thought you were my mom, waking me up for school. And then I thought you were Cindy.”
“You kiss your mom and my sister like that?”
“Of course not! I knew it was you by then.” Diana shivered slightly. She still had the almost overwhelming urge to pull Jay under the covers with her and kiss him again and again. Since this wasn’t the time and place for something like that, she threw back the covers, jumped up quickly, and slid her feet into her shoes.
“Wait a second, Di.” Jay took her arm and turned her around to face him. “You wanted to, didn’t you?”
Diana considered playing dumb and asking him what he meant. But she knew exactly what he’d been asking about, and that would be less than honest.
“Well, I . . . Yes, I wanted to.” Diana whispered the words, and somehow, that made them even more intimate. Then she drew a deep breath, and sighed. “Let’s go make coffee. I need a cup to clear my head.”
“It’s already made. I thought we could carry it out to the Christmas tree and talk. Unless you’d prefer to . . .” Jay let his voice trail off and gestured toward the booth where Diana had been sleeping.
Diana didn’t have any trouble catching his train of thought. She was tempted. It would be wonderful to snuggle down under the covers with Jay, but she shook her head. “No way. The others’ll be getting up soon. I think coffee by the Christmas tree is a much better idea.”
“Okay.”
Jay looked a bit disappointed, but he smiled agreeably as he led the way to the coffee machine. Diana got two mugs from the shelf. They were bright blue with “THE CROSSROADS PUB” imprinted on the side in gold letters, and Jay filled them almost to the brim.
They were very quiet as they tiptoed past the sleepers, and went out the door to the mall. When they were a few doors away, Jay turned to her and smiled. “It’s great to have coffee in the morning with you. It starts the day off right. Maybe we ought to do it all the time.”
“That would be nice.” Diana smiled back, but her mind was racing a million miles a minute. Was Jay talking about meeting her every morning at the college cafeteria? Or did he have a more intimate arrangement in mind? She cautioned herself about jumping to the wrong conclusions, and kept right on walking toward the huge Christmas tree in the center of the mall.
“How about right here?”
Jay gestured toward a bench facing the Christmas tree, and Diana glanced at her watch as she sat down. It was a little strange, sitting in front of the Christmas tree at eight in the morning. Of course it was impossible to tell it was eight in the morning without any windows facing the outside. It could have been eight at night, and she never would have known the difference with the lights on the tree twinkling brightly and the Christmas carols playing on the loudspeakers.
“Is something wrong?” Jay reacted to her pensive expression.
“No. Not really.” Diana shook her head. “I was just thinking how timeless it is inside the mall. The lights are always on and the music’s always playing. It’s almost like another world.”
Jay nodded. “It’s an artificial world, almost like being inside a space capsule. And you’re right about how timeless it is. If we didn’t have our watches, we wouldn’t know what time it really was. I wonder why they didn’t put a big clock on the wall.”
“My dad told me why. It’s psychology. There aren’t any clocks in casinos, either. They want you to lose track of the time. The longer you’re out here at the mall, the more money you might spend.”
“Makes sense.” Jay nodded. And then he looked sad. “Dave would have known that. He was a psych major.”
They were both silent for a moment, remembering the last time they’d seen Dave. And then Diana shivered as she recalled exactly what had happened.
“What is it?” Jay slipped his arm around her shoulders.
“The package.” Diana’s voice was shaking. “I forgot about it last night.”
“The present Dave found?”
Diana nodded. She felt very shaky as she put her fear into words. “It was just like Sue’s. And both of them opened their presents and read the notes . . . and then they died.”
Jay took a moment to think it over. “It’s got to be a coincidence. I mean . . . it’s not like someone murdered them or anything like that.”
Diana turned to look at Jay and his eyes mirrored her fear. For a moment they just stared at each other as the terrible suspicion started to grow. And then “Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town” started to play over the loudspeakers, and Diana shivered so hard, her teeth began to chatter. The innocent children’s Christmas carol sounded suddenly ominous, and Diana knew she’d never be able to listen to it again without hearing its dark undertones.
“No.” Jay shook his head as if he were trying to shake off the thought. “It’s impossible, Diana. We’ve been watching too many thrillers on television, or reading too many detective novels.”
“Are you sure?” Diana really wanted to believe him, but the seed of suspicion had been firmly planted.
“I’m positive. Don’t forget . . . I was the one who found Sue. And I found Dave, too. I’m sure they were both accidents. It’s kind of eerie out here, cut off from the rest of the world. We’re just imagining the worst.”
Diana took a deep breath, and released it in a shuddering sigh. “You’re right. I guess things just got to me. Maybe I’m not awake yet. But it is kind of strange about the presents . . . isn’t it?”
“It’s strange.” Jay’s voice was flat, with no emotion, as if he didn’t want to scare her. “And it’s even stranger if what you say about the construction is true.”
Diana sat up a little straighter. “It is true. And I know the popcorn machine wasn’t plugged into the two-twenty line. I turned it on. If something had been wrong, it would have shorted out right away, and then I would have been the one to . . .”
Diana stopped and shivered again. She could have ended up like Dave! The same thought must have occurred to Jay, because his face turned pale.
“Let’s not think about that. And when everybody else gets up, let’s warn them to be very careful. We’re cooped up in here, and we might be getting a little stir-crazy. We’re probably all accident prone, and we sure don’t want any more accidents!”
Diana nodded. She was sure that Jay was just saying that to make her feel better. But it was better to think that Sue and Dave’s deaths were accidents than it was to believe the alternative!
They were frightened again, and when they were afraid, they tended to stick together. He didn’t get a break until late afternoon, when they’d all calmed down a little and split up.
He looked around carefully as he let himself into the security office. It was too bad that Santa wasn’t invisible. Then he couldn’t be followed. But Santa didn’t have that power so he had to be very alert.
Once he was inside the office, a huge smile spread across his face. His plan was going very well, and he felt almost euphoric as he took his list from the center desk drawer and began to read the names. Who would be the next to get a personal visit from Santa?
As he checked the list, one name jumped out at him, emerging from the river of other names like the big trout that had snapped at Gramps’s hand-tied flies.
A sparkling river had run through Gramps’s farm, providing food for the table and fun for Gramps. And Gramps had shared his sport with his grandson. They’d spent hours together, tying flies at the kitchen table and putting them in Gramps’s tackle box. Each lure he’d tied had been especially designed to catch the big trout Gramps had called Professor Pisces. He could still remember those crisp, chilly mornings at the farm, hopping out of bed before daybreak to pull on his waders and make the trek to the river with Gramps. They’d walked carefully through the woods, guided by the beam of Gramps’s old flashlight, stepping over fallen logs and pushing through the underbrush until they’d reached the river’s bank. They’d perched on the huge granite rock that lay half-submerged in the water, and shared the Thermos of hot chocolate Grandma had fixed for them. And then they’d spent all day trying to catch Professor Pisces.
He pressed his pen to the paper so hard, it almost tore through. The happy days of fly casting with Gramps had all taken place before the contest. After that, fishing was ruined. And he’d just written down the name of the person who was to blame.
The contest had been in all the papers, and he’d begged Gramps to enter. It was a father-son contest, but grandfathers and grandsons could enter, too. Gramps hadn’t wanted to enter, but Grandma had talked him into it. It would be fun for the boy, she’d said. And the boy deserved a little fun in his life.
He still remembered how excited he’d been, and how sure he’d been that they would win. There weren’t really any rules. You just fished all day, in any of the designated spots, and brought your catch in to be weighed at the local butcher shop before dark.
When they’d gathered that morning, to check in for the contest, almost all the other contestants had crowded around to admire the delicate flies that lined Gramps’s tackle box. There had been only one exception, one father-and-son team who’d looked at the flies and turned up their noses. While the son had smirked, the father had bragged that they’d ordered their flies from an expensive fishing catalogue, the finest that money could buy. And then the son had announced that they were sure to win the contest.
During the morning session, the man and his son had fished right next to them, and it was clear that they didn’t like to lose. Although it was supposed to be a friendly contest, the man and his son had gotten angrier and angrier with each fish that Gramps had pulled from the river. And then the sun had reached its highest point in the sky, and one of the contest officials had come around to announce the lunch break.
They’d put down their poles, and left their tackle boxes by the side of the river to mark their spots. Picnic tables had been set up under the trees, and they’d found a nice, shaded spot to enjoy the lunch that Grandma had packed for them. Everyone else had been very friendly, but the man and his son hadn’t taken part in the conversation. They’d sat by themselves, glaring at Gramps. And then the father had leaned close to whisper to his son. The son had left the table for a couple of minutes, and when he’d come back, he’d been grinning. And then the contest official had announced that lunch break was over, and the afternoon session had started.
They’d walked back to their spot, and Gramps had opened his tackle box, looking for his favorite fly. But he hadn’t reached inside to pull it out. He’d just groaned, like someone had kicked him in the stomach.
He’d rushed to Gramps’s side, feeling fear rush over him in a wave. Was Gramps sick? But Gramps had pointed to the tackle box, and he’d groaned, too, when he’d looked inside. The tube of glue they’d carried to make repairs had burst open, and every single one of Gramps’s hand-tied flies was covered with sticky adhesive.
The father and son had come over to ask what was wrong, and Gramps had shown them the tackle box. The father had patted Gramps on the shoulder. What an unfortunate accident! He’d offered to let Gramps borrow one of his flies, but Gramps had said that wouldn’t be fair. He still had one fly left, and he’d fish with that.
Naturally, they’d lost the contest. And the father and son had won. But after they’d gone home, he had looked at the tube of glue very carefully, and he’d seen the hole that someone had punched in it. He’d remembered how the boy had left the picnic table and come back grinning. And he’d known exactly what had happened.
Gramps had stopped fishing after the contest. He’d put his tackle box up in the attic and he’d never looked at it again. There had been sadness in his eyes when he’d walked out to his clear, sparkling river and stared down at the water. Grandma had tried to get him to tie new flies, but he’d told her that all the fun had gone out of it. And now it was over. Gramps’s river was gone.
They’d dammed up the river when they’d built this place, and the shallow trickle that was left provided the water for the large fountain that decorated the front lobby of the mall. The boy had ruined Gramps’s favorite sport. And the mall had turned his sparkling river into a concrete fountain, where giggling girls tossed in pennies to make wishes. It was a tragedy, but Santa would take his revenge. He’d punish the naughty boy and the mall, all at once.