The Kid Who Stole Christmas Read online

  “That’s a new one,” someone said.

  “What government agents?” someone else wanted to know.

  Paul’s face was pale. “He kept talking about spies watching him. I told you there was something weird going on,” he exclaimed, looking accusingly at Shannon.

  “Oh, Lord!” she wailed. “Leo’s been kidnapped!”

  Chapter Five

  “Are we there yet?”

  “No, kid,” the one called Irv replied. “Soon. Right, Agent Joey? We’ll be there soon, huh?” He sounded worried.

  The bald one muttered something under his breath. He was driving, and wasn’t at all happy about it. According to him, the roads were slicker than snot.

  Leo thought that sounded pretty slick. He was sitting in the back seat of their nifty, fully equipped luxury four-wheel drive, a can of soda in one hand and a double-fudge brownie in the other. From his position, he couldn’t even see the road, but that was okay, because there wasn’t much to see, anyway. It was pitch black outside, and snowing heavily.

  They were on their way to what Joey called a safe house, from which they could direct their campaign against the forces of evil who threatened the Arnie shipment. At first, Leo hadn’t been so sure about coming with them. But then, after swearing him to secrecy, Agent Joey and his brother Agent Irv had shown him their official badges and explained why it was necessary.

  Since Lyon’s was the rightful owner of the shipment, it was necessary for a member of the Lyon family to be with them, in case some important decision had to be made on the spot. But they thought the excitement would be too much for Pop, so Leo would have to come in his place.

  Leo was proud to be of help. Besides, they designated him Agent X, and gave him an official badge, too. They had also given him his favorite supper at the Taco Shack, the one Pop never let him order because it gave Leo gas. And there was a sackful of brownies for dessert. Not to mention the cooler at his side filled with his pick of sodas.

  If this was government work, Leo might have to change his mind about becoming an executive at Lyon’s. After they gave him a medal for saving the Arnie shipment, he could probably have his pick of jobs. Maybe even president of the United States.

  “Have you ever met the president, Agent Joey?”

  “Huh?” Joey took his eyes off the road momentarily, and saw to his horror that Leo was out of his safety belt. “Jeez! Put that belt back on, kid!”

  “It’s Agent X,” Irv reminded him solemnly, “you gotta use the code names, Agent Joey.”

  “I’ll give you a code name, you putz! Get that kid back into that belt!”

  Irv turned around in his seat and made sure Leo was buckled in. “There. Snug as a bug.”

  “Shannon always says that,” Leo remarked. “When she helps me with my coat, or something.” He looked at his cartoon-character watch and frowned. “I hope she found that note. She doesn’t like it when I worry her. Can I call her later?”

  “Everything’s fine, kid,” Joey said reassuringly. “It’s all been handled. No reason to get upset.” But he reached over and thumped Irv on the arm with the back of his hand. “Give Agent X a cookie.”

  Irv passed back what was left of the package to Leo. Most of the rest were presently stuffed in his mouth. He made a face, and Leo laughed so hard, soda came out his nose, which set Irv off, as well. Soon, they were both howling with laughter, much to Joey’s dismay.

  “Oh, man,” he muttered. “This is going to be some couple of days. Like baby-sitting two eight-year-olds.”

  He was so perturbed, he almost missed his exit, and then nearly slid into a ditch making too fast a turn. This chain of events sobered up his passengers some, but Irv still had the giggles. Joey whacked him on the arm again.

  “Just help me look for the driveway, will you?”

  “Sure thing, Agent Joey.”

  “That’s it!” Joey exclaimed. “I’m making a new rule. From now on, I’m just Joey, okay? Just Joey. And you’re Irv, and he’s Leo. Got that?”

  “Got it,” Irv said. “Just Joey.”

  “Roger,” Leo agreed. “Want a cookie, Just Joey?”

  That started Irv off all over again. Joey groaned and looked skyward. “Why me?” he asked.

  “Shannon says that a lot, too,” Leo observed.

  They found the driveway Joey was looking for without further incident. He pulled down it, the headlights of the four-wheel drive sweeping across the thick pine trees lining each side. When he reached the house, he pushed a remote control attached to the visor and the garage door slid up. A light went on inside the garage at the same time, like a warm yellow beacon in the cold, black night.

  Once inside with the engine off, a profound silence descended upon them. “Cool!” Leo said. “Like a hideout.”

  Irv chuckled. “Yeah! Cool!”

  With a long-suffering sigh, Joey opened his door and stepped out. He got some bags out of the back, handing a couple to Irv. Leo insisted on helping, so they put him in charge of the cooler. Together, they trooped to the entrance of the house, where Joey had to use a credit card to get inside. This also turned on a number of lights throughout the house.

  “Nice system,” Joey said, nodding his approval.

  “Nice house,” Irv said admiringly.

  Leo just stood there with his mouth agape. It was hard to impress a boy who had grown up in some pretty nice homes, himself, and an entire department store of goodies to play with, as well. But he was more than impressed. He was agog.

  “This isn’t a house,” he managed to say at last. “This is a playground!”

  He was sure there were plenty of things there for grown-ups, like a nice kitchen and lots of books and stuff. But all Leo could see at the moment was the home entertainment center, the focus of which was an enormous big-screen television complete with stereo surround sound. Attached to it were the usual tape and disc players, and a satellite tuner. But the best part was the most elaborate game system he’d ever seen. His little computer-friendly fingers itched to attach themselves to the controls.

  Joey nudged Irv. “Look at that face,” he whispered. “I told you. We don’t have a thing to worry about. By the time the kid comes up for air, it’ll all be over.”

  “Whatever you say, Joey.” Irv glanced at his watch. “Hey, my favorite show’s on! Dibs on the big screen!”

  “No way!” Leo exclaimed, sprinting into the entertainment room. “I’m going to see if they’ve got Wolves of Doom.”

  “Kids,” Joey said, chuckling.

  Now that they were safe from prying eyes, he felt more relaxed. This would be a breeze. They had lots of food, and plenty to keep the kid occupied. The shipment of Arnies had to arrive at Lyon’s dock sometime soon. And then it would be payback time.

  * * *

  “OF COURSE we’re going to hand it over,” Pop Lyon said.

  Shannon was standing in Pop’s office on the fourth floor, where she and several other employees, including Rick, had come to break the news to the old man. Much to their surprise, however, he already knew, having received a phone call just moments earlier.

  Pop Lyon had good days and bad. This was obviously not one of his best, judging by the way his hands shook. But there was still fire in his pale blue eyes and in his voice as he spoke. Even at eighty, he was in control.

  “We will comply with all their other demands, as well,” he said, looking from one face to the other. As he spoke, he wheeled himself into a position to confront the group, to show them he meant business. “No word of this to the media. No outside intervention at all, including the police.”

  “But Pop,” Paul objected. “That’s not how it’s done. I still have some friends down there. They’ll know how to handle things without—”

  “I said no!” Pop interrupted.

  The effort made him cough. He had a nurse in attendance, and she brought him a glass of water. She glared at Paul, as did several others.

  When he recovered, Pop continued vehemently. “I am
not jeopardizing the welfare of my grandson for a crate of toys! That’s all they want, and I’m happy to oblige. Let them have the damn things. I hope they choke on them.”

  “And if they don’t give Leo back? What then?”

  Pop turned his head sharply to see who had spoken. So did everyone else. Much to Shannon’s dismay, it was Rick. As a newcomer, he was not as well versed in the fine points of handling Pop as the rest of them.

  “Who are you?” Pop asked, wheeling himself closer to the man in the Santa Claus suit. “Do I know you?”

  Rick shook his head. He had removed his beard and hat, but still felt conspicuous standing there in his red suit with its white fuzzy trim. The old man’s intense scrutiny didn’t help any. But he had to speak up.

  “His name is Rick Hastings, Pop,” Shannon interjected. “I hired him this afternoon, to fill in for Hans when he needs a break. Madge recommended him.”

  “I did not!” Madge exclaimed, emerging from the crowd just inside the office door. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  Shannon paled. “Isn’t this your sister’s cousin’s nephew, or whatever?” she asked, suddenly feeling incredibly inept for even considering such a vague recommendation in the first place.

  “No. Roger couldn’t make it today. The storm stranded him in Vail. Or so he said.”

  “Then who...” Shannon trailed off, staring at Rick as if at some new species of bug. “You lied.”

  “I did no such thing,” Rick told her. “You were the one going on about Roy Rogers and Madge. I just nodded.” He shrugged. “So sue me. I needed the job.”

  There was general concerned muttering among the other employees. Pop rapped his cane on the floor for attention. He could walk, when he needed to, but arthritis made it quite painful for him. Everyone quieted down.

  “What do you know about Leo’s disappearance, young man?”

  “Nothing more than anyone else,” Rick replied. “I was only wondering if it’s wise to be in such a rush to give away the shipment, when you can’t be sure that whoever has Leo will give him back once they have it.”

  “But I am certain they’ll release him,” Pop returned. “Because after they have that shipment, there will no longer be any profit in keeping him. I’m also certain there will be no way of proving they had anything to do with it afterward, so I won’t bother trying.” He smiled grimly. “In return, I’m sure they’re taking very good care of Leo. It’s a little like honor among thieves, I suppose. That’s the way the Bayers have always done business.”

  Those assembled gasped. Shannon was the first to voice what they were all obviously thinking. “Of course! The Bayers!”

  “Hold it. Do you know for a fact it’s the Bayers?” Rick demanded, his voice suddenly sharp. “Or is this merely supposition?”

  Shannon was staring at Rick again. Was it her imagination, or had that coldness she’d seen in his eyes before increased? She didn’t know what was going on, but since she was the one who had allowed him into their midst, she now felt responsible.

  “Just who are you?” Shannon demanded. “What’s your interest in this, anyway?”

  “I have plenty at stake here,” he returned, his voice cracking like a whip. Rick looked at Pop again. “Now, answer my question. How do you know it was the Bayers?”

  “That’s about enough of that, pal.” Paul had stepped closer to Rick. “Pop doesn’t need this stress.”

  With his bulk, Paul could be a very intimidating man. But then, Rick was a rather commanding presence, himself. At the moment, however, neither of them had a thing on Shannon. She put herself between them, glaring at Rick.

  “Back off, Paul,” she told him. “If anyone is going to get a piece of this guy, it’s me.”

  Pop’s cane thumped the floor again. “That’s enough! All of you!” He, too, was looking at Rick. “In answer to your question, I have to admit I don’t know for absolute certain that the Bayers are behind this. But after wrestling with them in the business arena for over fifty years, I know their style when I see it,” he assured him. “Joe Bayer was just short of a common criminal. As far as I have been able to determine, his son Nathan is a criminal, a disgusting white-collar thief of the sneakiest kind.”

  Rick sighed. “That’s putting it kindly.”

  “How do you know the Bayers?” Shannon asked suspiciously.

  “Yes. I think it’s time you explained yourself, young man,” Pop agreed, staring at Rick through ancient, narrowed eyes. “What exactly is your connection to the Bayers? Did they send you to make sure the kidnapping of my grandson went smoothly?”

  “I resent that more than you can possibly comprehend,” Rick returned bitterly.

  Shannon put her hand on his arm. “Rick—”

  He cut her off. “Save it. Excuse me, I have things to do.” The crowd parted for him as he stalked out the door.

  “What the hell,” Pop muttered.

  Shannon was equally troubled by Rick’s reaction. “He is connected, and we need to know how.”

  “I agree,” Pop said, wheeling himself to his desk. “And I think I know who might know the answer.”

  While he made the call, Shannon sat down in one of the chairs near the old man’s desk. It was a good thing, too, because Pop had his answer in minutes, and it was a shocker for them both.

  “Rick was once married to Nathan Bayer’s wife, Angela,” Pop informed her. “Evidently, she and Nathan took everything from him, including his own flesh and blood. Chelsea Bayer is really Chelsea Hastings, Rick’s daughter.”

  Chapter Six

  Angela cursed. “It doesn’t even ring!”

  “It’s the storm,” Nathan told her. “The phone lines must be down.” He patted the covers beside him, still warm from her body. “Come back to bed and stop worrying.”

  “Somebody has to worry. With those two idiots in on the deal, anything could happen.”

  He watched her cross the room. It had finally stopped snowing, and the clouds were beginning to move off. Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating her shapely form through her thin negligee. How such a lovely package could contain so much hostility was beyond him.

  “Joey’s okay,” Nathan said. “Irv’s dim but dependable, especially with Joey in charge.”

  Angela glanced at him, her beautiful face marred by a deep frown. “You don’t suppose they’d have the brains between them to double-cross us, do you?”

  “What?” He arched his eyebrows. “That’s absurd.”

  “Is it? Think about it.” She paced the floor, well aware of the effect her scanty attire was having on the man watching her. Let him suffer. “That shipment is worth a lot of money. And you, in your infinite wisdom, placed those two in complete control of the whole operation.”

  “Correction. I am in control, they’re just following orders,” Nathan objected. “And I did it this way because it leaves us completely out of harm’s way.”

  “Unless old man Lyon decides to dig into the matter after he gets his precious little grandson back,” Angela returned. “That’s another thing. I can’t understand why you think he’ll just drop the matter once the boy is returned.”

  Nathan smiled. It was not a particularly nice sort of smile. “He’ll drop it because he knows it’s not worth the trouble I could cause him if he didn’t. He also knows that dig as he might, the only link he’d find would be Joey and Irv, who would never let it go any further.”

  “So you say.”

  “They have proven themselves very trustworthy over a period of many years,” Nathan said, his irritation with her growing. “I grew up with Joey, for heaven’s sake! He was my father’s right-hand man. As a matter of fact, I’ve known both him and Irv a lot longer than I’ve known you.”

  Angela looked at him sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean, dear?”

  “Nothing, dear,” he retorted. “Just that I know they won’t cross me.”

  “And I would? Is that what you’re getting at?”

  Nath
an paused, considering his words carefully. In fact, he was quite certain his pretty wife would be more than happy to stab him in the back, provided that it was of some advantage to her and that she could get away with it. But then, he supposed they were the same in that regard. Only a poisonous snake was comfortable sleeping with its own kind, after all.

  “This is pointless, Angela,” he said at last.

  “Oh, really? What if Joey and Irv were to make a deal with someone who owed us one?”

  “Like who?” Nathan asked.

  “I’m not sure who,” Angela replied. “I just have this strange feeling. Women’s intuition, if you like. That’s the trouble with unfinished business. It just sits there in your past, ready to surprise you, the way a bug you didn’t squash completely always manages to crawl into your shoe to die.”

  * * *

  SHANNON PULLED the collar of her fleece-lined overcoat up around her ears to protect them from the wind. She felt like some kind of spy, sneaking along the nearly deserted downtown streets in the snowy moonlight. It was profoundly cold, in the single digits, she was certain, turning the wind into a knife that poked its icy blade into any hole it could find in her meager defenses.

  Rick was walking ahead of her, little more than a dark shape moving quickly through the shadows. She didn’t really know why she had decided to follow him. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done. There was the bitter cold to contend with, as well as the occasional seedy-looking inner-city denizen. But worst of all, she was following a man who was in a foul mood and conceivably dangerous.

  Somehow, though, even if he was involved in something shady, Shannon didn’t think Rick would harm her. It was Pop’s accusation about him being involved in the kidnapping that had really set Rick off. And if Pop’s information was correct, Rick had every reason to explode. Not only had Angela taken his child from him, she had even changed the girl’s name. If Rick had been forced to give up total custody, he must almost consider himself to be the victim of a kidnapper of sorts, as well.