Feliz Naughty Dog - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,20
the screen, but seeing only the glare from the lights.
“Oh hell. That’s a corpse. They found the damn corpse. We gotta get to Aldo, Sammy. This is a crime.”
Agnes put her hand over her mouth, sharing a look with Finnie.
“We gotta step in here,” Sammy said. “It’s time for an FBI victory for a change. I’m sick of Fiore being so stinkin’ elusive.”
The two men both pushed up at the same time, their chairs noisily scraping the tile and waking Pyggie.
“Gosh, I’m sorry, little doggie.” Big Guy leaned over, and his jacket—the one with the bulging pocket—opened when he leaned over to pet Pyggie. He wore a black T-shirt with a simple insignia on the pocket.
FBI.
Agnes just stared at him, holding her smile until they walked away in the direction of the men’s room.
“Agnes!” All the color had drained from Finnie’s face. “Do you believe me now?”
“I guess I do.” She fell back in her chair. “How could I have been such a terrible judge of character?”
“Just be happy we found out the FBI is after him before you got involved with him.”
Agnes nodded. “Is ‘ghost’ a slang term for a gun?”
“Of course it is!”
“Are you sure?” Agnes scowled, zipping through her memory. “I’ve never heard that.”
“Neither have I, but did you see how his pocket was…” She made a bulging gesture with her hands. “And corpse is slang for a corpse, and crime means crime! Agnes, sweet Saint Patrick, you’ve dodged a bullet.”
“Literally.” She rubbed her hands together, only then realizing how cold she was. “What do you think they’re going to do to him?”
“’Tis a sting,” Finnie said with an amazing amount of authority for someone whose closest interaction with the FBI involved Efrem Zimbalist Jr. on a black-and-white TV screen.
“In the bathroom of the Vestal Village Mall on Christmas Eve?” It still seemed preposterous.
“Look around. There could be agents everywhere!” Finnie gestured toward the crowded food court. “More men than you ever see at a mall.”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Agnes reminded her sharply. “That’s when men shop.”
“Why are you determined to protect and defend him?” Finnie asked, sounding flabbergasted.
“I’m not. But did those two guys really seem like FBI agents?”
“Undercover,” Finnie said. “They’re not supposed to look like FBI agents.”
“They certainly didn’t.” Agnes shifted her gaze to Santa, who was waving to the kids and climbing off his throne.
“Ho, ho, ho! I gotta go! But I’ll be back soon!” he called to them. “Watch the elves sing while I’m gone.”
A ripple of disappointment as palpable as the one rolling through Agnes rumbled through the small crowd as he stepped off the small platform and headed directly toward them.
“Oh, he’s coming here,” Agnes exclaimed.
“No, no. Bathroom,” Finnie corrected as Santa took a turn.
“Right into a sting.” Agnes shook her head. “I feel like I should—”
“Agnes.” Finnie grabbed her hand. “Just thank the good Lord you didn’t fall for someone like that.”
A little boy ran up to Santa, arms outstretched like he wanted a hug, and Aldo bent over and gave him a huge squeeze, lifting him in the air with a noisy, “Ho, ho, ho!”
“That doesn’t look like a criminal,” Agnes grumbled.
Another child came running over, then another. For at least ten minutes, Santa gave them hugs and encouragement and promised Santa would be back. With every passing second, Agnes began to doubt more and more what she’d heard.
“Are you ready to go, Agnes?” Finnie asked softly.
“Not until he walks into that bathroom and comes out in handcuffs,” she whispered. “Then I’ll give him up.”
But just then, Santa turned in the other direction and walked right into the wide opening of a department store at the end of the mall.
“Where’s he going?” Agnes asked, standing up.
“Penney’s! He’s getting away!” Finnie exclaimed. “We should tell the FBI men.”
“You can.” Agnes gathered the dogs’ leashes and her bag. “Just waltz right into the men’s room and look for the agents, Finola. See how that goes for you. I’m going to follow Aldo.”
“Agnes!” Finnie sputtered, pushing up as well. “You can’t.”
“I can and I will. He’s going into Penney’s, Finnie. How much trouble can we get into there?”
“Speaking of trouble.” Finnie put one hand on Agnes’s arm and pointed with her other. “Here comes Tor, and…oh, look at that lassie and lad laughing.”
Agnes couldn’t resist an I told you so look. “I just had a feeling.”
“Come on, let’s go talk to them.”
“Finnie! I’ll lose him.” She blew out a sigh. “Which is exactly what you want, isn’t it?”
“What I want is for