Stockings and Suspenders (6 page)

But that wasn’t to be. Her lower limbs
hooked around my hips and brought me toward her. My cock slid inside her with
the force of the motion. Her pussy engulfed me in its heat. I was in heaven.

She brushed her chest against mine.
The hard buds of her nipples raked up and down my skin. She tasted the surfaces
and crevices of my neck and shoulders with her mouth and tongue, riding my cock
with seeming expertise. I gloried in the feel of her, could even say I loved
her in a weird sort of way during our connection. Sometimes it was just about
the sex and getting laid. Sometimes it was about the love. This time seemed to
be more of the first with a hint of something more. Either way, this was
shaping up to be a great day.

Her heated breath warmed the divot
between my neck and shoulder. The puffs of air from her quickened as our joined
motion took on an increased pace. She quivered and moaned. I squeezed my eyes
shut as my own surge of passion crested and released.

Moments later, drained and sexually
satiated, I opened my eyes. We were back out on the grassy section of the park.
I was dressed. Kristina sat beside me with a small smile.

What the hell? What kind of freaky
mind trip had I just taken? Unsettled from the abrupt and drastic changes to my
world and my role in it, I blinked to gain my bearing. Usually nothing fazed
me, but what just occurred had rocked me to the core. Blood and gore on a
homicide investigation, no problem. Mess with my perception of reality, we have
issues.

She removed her hand from my arm.
“Without childlike wonder and magic, life must be pretty dull.”

Childlike wonder and magic? More like
the sports drinks at the aid stations had been spiked. “My life isn’t dull.” I
didn’t want a woman I had just met to think I was some kind of crazy creep so I
kept the tent activities to myself.

Behind us a woman called out my name.
I turned to respond. Trish jogged over, yammering on about whether or not I
looked over the case file yet. I sliced my hand in the air in front of my neck
a few times to alert her not to talk about the case. I especially didn’t want
to discuss it in front of Kristina.

“Why are you telling me to cut it
out?” Trish asked once she was next to me.

“Cause I don’t like talking about work
out in the open like this, nor in front of people who I just met.”

“In front of who?”

Her puzzled expression alarmed me. I
spun back toward Kristina.

She was gone.

Chapter Three

December –
First Saturday, Mid-Morning

I strolled around Town Square, amidst
a sea of people dressed in all variations of Santa suits, glad I wasn’t running
this particular race this morning. One, there was no way I’d ever want to dress
up like the jolly fat man then run in said costume. Two, the past week had been
stressful enough without complicating it more with a race.

Try as I might, Kristina was never far
from my mind. The second I arrived home after Thanksgiving dinner with Vic and
his family, I signed onto several databases to do a background check. Finding
out who Miss Cristkindle was and what she was about had shot to the top of my
list. Unfortunately, I found nothing. The elusive woman evaded me even in cyber
space. I didn’t like it one bit.

Questions about the beauty and why my
attraction to her had created such a vivid daydream littered my mind. The lack
of answers disturbed the investigator in me.

During the week, in attempts to get my
mind off her, I poured myself into my work, but of course not on the paranormal
case. I tracked down and brought in a couple of bail jumpers. By Friday morning
though, Lory and Trish were riding my ass about the damn elf since their case
load hadn’t eased like they thought it would. I broke down and started
reviewing the file, thinking that by working on something so completely
different it would get my mind off Kristina.

After staring at the file and giving
it some thought, I decided to hang out at the Great Santa Run. Wouldn’t an elf
love to be in a place where everyone was dressed as the big boss man? Seemed
plausible to me, and it’d show Lory and Trish I was making an effort.

“You’re not racing today?” The musical
voice sang behind me.

I turned, coming face to face with the
woman who’d been plaguing my thoughts. She, too, was dressed in a Santa outfit
that reminded me more of a cat suit than loose fuzzy pants held up by
suspenders. Red tights clung to her legs. A white turtle neck beneath a
form-fitting red jacket molded to her torso. White fur lined the cuffs and hem
of the jacket. She even wore a matching red cap. A green name tag with gold
lettering stated she was a volunteer.

“Nope. On the clock today actually.”

“Working? On a Saturday? That’s a
shame.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

Moving the hair was exactly what I
wanted to do for her. I cleared my mind before any strange daydreams could take
hold of me. “Not really. I enjoy my work. I’m a private investigator so I have
to chase leads when and where I can.”

“There’s no danger here, is there?”
Her concern seemed genuine.

“I can’t really discuss the case, but
no, there’s no danger.”

“Good. I’d hate if something bad were
to happen here. The charity’s done a lot to make this a fun and profitable
fundraising event.” She tilted her head, appeared to study me. “Are you going
to be here for a while?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’d like to go to lunch with you when
my shift is done.”

“I would like that, too.” Happy she’d
changed her mind about a date, I grasped her hand, brought it up to my lips and
lightly kissed the back of it. “See you in a few hours then? Over at the food
tent?”

She nodded, then left to take care of
whatever duties she’d been assigned.

I kept my eye on her and the rest of
the crowd as I made rounds of the grounds, waiting for time to pass so we could
go to lunch together. Nothing and no one struck me as being out of the norm so
to say. Then again, I had no clue how an elf would act and react to situations.
Websites covered a lot of stuff about legends and their mythology, not about
interacting with humans in an urban setting.

Kristina was a wonder to behold as she
worked. Several times I hung out in a corner, close enough to hear and watch
her, but not close enough to be a bother. No matter who walked up to her or
what kind of issue the person had, Kristina dealt with them with a grace I
hadn’t seen in a long time. Any problem, big or small, garnered the same
attentiveness and care from her. She had joy in her work, almost glowed with
it.

Her brightness made me with my jaded
attitude feel dirty. Did I deserve someone like her? Feeling unworthy, I
considered leaving the grounds so I wouldn’t have to tarnish her and her inner
beauty. I’d go home and do my work, research how to catch an elf.

“Where are you going?” Kristina stood
beside me, gazing at me with her gorgeous eyes.

The woman had the stealth of a cat.
That or my instincts and gut-reactions weren’t working anymore to notice her approach.
I hoped it was the former and not the latter. If I lost my instincts, my job
would be twice as hard as it already was. “I’m not going anywhere. Just waiting
on you.” A tiny white lie. For a guy like me, no big deal.

“I’m ready now. How about we get away
from this craziness and go to the brew pub down the road.”

Once we were seated at a quiet table
in the corner of the microbrewery and restaurant designed to look like an
English pub, I told her what I’d observed of her.

“I don’t doubt that’s how I came
across. I like to give people hope. Maybe some of my holiday cheer will rub off
on you and you’ll find your Christmas spirit again.” She leaned across the
table and playfully punched my shoulder.

“I doubt it. I’m pretty set in my
ways.”

“Well, miracles do happen you know.”

Our order of beers and pizza came, and
we ate in companionable silence for a few minutes.

 “I’m curious,” she said. “Why are you
so against the holidays and things that require faith and belief?”

What a way to start a new conversation.
Shocked, a bite of food lodged in my throat. I cleared it with a swallow of
beer then took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I should tell you. You might
think less of me.”

“I’m a real good listener. Try me.”
She propped her chin on top of her fist and gazed at me with a serene
expression.

Thoughts of how she helped the kid a
week ago and how she handled herself earlier came to mind. She appeared
genuine, sincere. Why not confide in her? Sometimes it was easier to talk to
strangers than people near and dear.

“Several years ago when I worked for
Metro I responded to a domestic dispute call. Neighbors reported noise sounding
like fireworks or gunfire. By the time I and other officers arrived the front
door and the screen door were off their hinges. Two adults were screaming at
each other in the front yard. We tried to calm down the situation, but the man
drew a gun, said he’d shoot the woman if we didn’t back off.” I paused, allowed
the memories to come this time. “You know how it is when something surreal is happening
and time seems to slow to a crawl?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied with a nod.

“I still remember everything in
crystal clarity. Music streamed out of the house.
White
Christmas
.
The Bing Crosby version. The night sky was cloudless. Stars pinpricked the dark
blanket. A helicopter with a search light circled the area. It was cold but not
miserably so. I remember thinking the man and woman had to be high. They were
dressed in white tank tops and black cargo shorts. The spinning lights of our
vehicles lit up the area in strange red, blue and purplish shadows. The woman
reached out and slapped him. He pushed her to the ground, fired the forty-five
into the air then pointed the weapon at her. Deep in my gut I knew he planned
to shoot her. So did the other officers, I learned afterward, except I was the
first one to draw and fire on him. We were trained that if we had to draw our
weapon to make the shot count. Mine did.”

Clenching and releasing my hand, I
remembered how my weapon felt, the pull of the trigger, the recoil. All that
never bothered me at the shooting range, but that night… “The man was dead
before he hit the ground. And then I saw him. A little boy standing in the
broken doorway, a tattered Santa doll in the crook of one arm, a thumb in his
mouth. Tears made clean paths down his dirty cheeks. The woman scrambled to her
feet, kicked the man she’d been arguing with. The officers on the scene rushed
forward, subdued her then went into the home to clear it. CPS arrived and took
the child away.”

“The poor dear.”

I swiped a moist palm over my face. “I
couldn’t help but think how he’d grow up without his father. How what he
witnessed would taint his holidays for the rest of his life. I underwent an IA
investigation, required counseling. I spent another few years on the force, but
I had lost the taste for the intense aspects of the job. Too many families
getting into it, relationships going south, all the repeat cases. The disputes
always seemed to get worse around the holidays.”

I looked up from my plate of pizza
crusts, gazed straight into her eyes. “And since I spent most of my career on
those types of calls, I became desensitized. Not only to this time of year but
love and life in general.”

“So bah hum bug, right?” Kristina
smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes and her voice was sad.

“Pretty much.” I shrugged. “So a few
years after the incident, I went into the private sector where I can pick and
choose what cases I want to cover.” For the most part, I thought. That damn elf
case was still hanging over my head. I drummed my fingers on the table.

Kristina reached out and placed her
hand on top of mine, stilling their tapping. “I’m so sorry you had to go
through all that. That your life experiences made you jaded.”

“I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

I continued to gaze into her eyes. An
impression of being lost in a dark, dense forest filled my mind along with
thoughts about stories by the brothers Grimm, cautionary tales about the
pitfalls of life and love. Was she a pitfall or a love?

The vision deepened, pushing all
questions and thoughts about cases and stories aside. Images of tall oaks and
maples obscuring a blue sky, animals scurrying to and fro in the brush built
one upon another, creating a fairy tale setting, and I half-expected to see
Robin Hood or Snow White strolling around. A path revealed itself. I stepped
onto it and followed the trail to a quaint cottage. The whole inside was one
room, cast in a misty white glow. Kristina lay naked on a bed covered in white
sheets. Gauzy red material draped along the brass canopy and created a flowing
ceiling above her.

“Come,” she said, holding out a hand.
“Let me chase the shadows away.”

Admiring her beautiful form, I took
stock of the situation. The saner side of my brain said this was a repeat of
the tent situation on Thanksgiving Day, that she really couldn’t rid me of my
demons. Logic reminded me whatever she had to offer was fake and would only
serve to distract me from my purpose. The side ruled by my baser needs, or as
Malory would say
my dick
, wanted another taste of her. The primal urges
didn’t care about realism versus surrealism. All I knew was that for a brief
moment of time I could feel great about life through the ultimate pleasure, and
in those minutes, my shadows would be chased away.