The men were ten or fifteen feet apart and didn’t seem to be together. It was already dark, and he remembered hearing the loud clocking of oncoming footsteps and meeting three men walking in single file across the bridge, heading east as he headed west. “Tell us what happened,” Lucy said to the small patient.Īl, it turned out, had been in costume on his way to meet Ernest at a seven-thirty children’s party at the city park and was carrying a bagful of donated toys across the Long Creek footbridge. Through the frosty window they could hear the merry sounds of bells and Christmas music. Al often joked that he was a subordinate Claus with low elf esteem. The sheriff knew the two brothers regularly played Santa and his helper at holiday gatherings. His brother Ernest, standing nearby, was a giant dressed in a red-and-white Santa suit. Inside the room, a five-foot-tall and bandaged Al Wilson looked too small for his bed. His nurse says we can have ten minutes with him.” “Thanks for telling me about it.” Fran looked at the closed door. “Merry Christmas,” Fran said, as she took off her coat and gloves. ![]() Fran was a retired schoolteacher, an amateur crime solver, and to Lucy, a sometimes-pain-in-the-rear-end. ![]() Sheriff Lucy Valentine was waiting outside the hospital room when her mother Fran appeared, her cheeks rosy from the cold. This never before published Christmas mystery short story will be featured in an episode of Mysteryrat’s Maze Podcast next Christmas.
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