Page 69 of The Santa Claus Con

“To us? Yes.” Definitely to me. That popcorn-smelling elevator was the first place we kissed.

“Are you ready for Santa’s big scene?” Nathan asks, repeating the lines from the riddle. “Soon it will be Christmas Eve.”

And soon it will be the finale.

Nathan looks confused and starts humming. “It’s that last line.” He hums some more. “That’s not how the song goes. Day—the lyric ends with day.”

Now the song is all I hear. I start singing it out loud, hoping my procedural memory will kick in. “Soon it will be…” I sing. Then the rest of the blanks fill in. “Silver bells, silver—”

“That’s it. They’re both lyrics from ‘Silver Bells.’”

“Sadistic Santa’s version,” I mumble.

Nathan shakes his head. “Silver bells… why does that sound so familiar?”

It takes us two blocks to figure it out, and when we do, it’s more frightful than the weather outside.

Chapter 20

SCARLETT

One year ago, Christmas Eve

Maui

We’re fast, but not fast enough.

We watch the Silver Belle speed away. Without us.

Had we been one of the bad guys, those chickens would’ve saved us from potential prison time, but we’re not, so missing the boat might actually be what sets them all free.

“What the hell, Hall?” Nathan says into his comms. “They couldn’t have waited a minute?”

“The captain had to leave on time so the Durands wouldn’t get suspicious,” Hall says into our earpieces, sounding as frustrated as Nathan. “Bijoux was watching the clock.”

“How’s it going to look when the person they’re waiting for to deliver a very specific present isn’t on the boat?” he asks.

“Just stay where you are for now, Lambros,” Hall says. “As I think about it more, it’s probably for the best. Chicago, New Year’s… you two might be recognized together. We’re working on a different strategy. Hang tight.”

Nathan releases an aggravated sigh toward the coral sky. It’s almost offensive how beautiful the sunset is for how gut-wrenching this moment is.

“All things considered, we actually made pretty good time,” I say when Nathan’s back from getting the car we left idling in the parking lot. I prop my hands on my hips. “We just didn’t make good enough time.”

“All those years of my life, all the lies, all the—” He stops short and runs his hand back and forth through his hair, the strands sticking up wildly. “The resources, the money… everything that went into this. A whole elaborate ruse and for what? What was any of it for if they’re just gonna get away?” he asks, sitting on the hood of the car like that’s it, that’s the end of it. He holds the gift-wrapped money in his lap like it’s a buoy, like it’s the thing that was going to save him. And maybe it would’ve.

Because he’s right. It cost the FBI a lot to set this up. It cost time. It cost Nathan. This was supposed to be the grand finale, the bow on top of a years-long operation to shut down the Durands. And now they get to sail away into the sunset.

Kind of.

“They still have to come back to land,” I reason. “More agents will be here in an hour or so for the arrests. Let’s get them then.”

“That exchange was supposed to be the final nail in their coffin,” Nathan says. “We needed to have Bijoux, specifically, taking the money on camera.” Bijoux, roughly translated as “jewel.” How fitting for the crime boss dealing in jewels. “It’s taken years to get to the boss. To get them here. Maybe this is a fitting ending for it. For me.”

“For you? What’s that supposed mean?”

He seems hesitant to say more.

“What do you mean for you?” I repeat.