Santa Genie Read online

  Santa Genie

  Jamie K. Schmidt

  Published by Jamie K. Schmidt, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  SANTA GENIE

  First edition. September 3, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Jamie K. Schmidt.

  Written by Jamie K. Schmidt.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue: Christmas Present

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  Further Reading: A Casual Christmas

  Also By Jamie K. Schmidt

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Working third-shift security at the lab on Christmas Eve was the only way Melody was going to pay her heating bill that month. Besides, she was almost doing a good deed. Parker had been scheduled to work, but Melody offered to switch. The bear hug he had given her and the image of him reading The Night Before Christmas to his three kids in their pajamas made the empty feeling in Melody’s stomach go away. Well, almost.

  Melody had debated putting up the Christmas tree this year. It was her first holiday since the divorce. Her parents were in Hawaii. Christmas would be just her and her ferret Renaldo. And since Renaldo slept most of the time, he wouldn’t care if Christmas dinner was twenty-four hours later than what the calendar said. But in the end, she decided she would put a tree up when she got home tomorrow morning. It was time for new traditions anyway. But why did starting fresh have to feel so...lonely?

  Walking down the hall, Melody shone her light into each of the locked labs. Nothing was stirring, not even the mice—they were drugged up on the latest test batch. There had been budget cuts so only the safety lights were on. Melody had just a handheld flashlight to light her way. She almost hoped something would jump out at her, like a mutant rat along the lines of the ones in The Princess Bride.

  “ROUSes? I don’t think they exist,” she said in a fake British accent. Melody waited expectantly, but neither a black-clad pirate nor a rat the size of an ottoman appeared.

  She shrugged and moved on. Too bad, she could really use a good pirate. One that would love her madly and take her on grand adventures—as long as those adventures didn’t put her on the mob’s radar again.

  Once Melody was back at her desk in the well-lit lobby, she adjusted her gun belt and sat down. Flicking on the monitors, she scanned the parking lots and exits. Nada.

  A light snow was beginning to fall.

  “Looks like it’s going to be a white Christmas after all,” she said. At least she had control over the office sound system. She put on the Christmas mix she’d spent hours ripping and reorganizing until it was just right.

  “Just like the ones we used to know,” she sang in a half whisper. She looked out the glass doors but saw the ghosts of Christmas past—the good ones anyway. Like the time she and her grandmother spent all Christmas Eve baking pies and dessert for the family. Or the Christmas when her parents did a total Gift of the Magi. Her father had sold his computer to buy her mother a dress to go to the opera. But she had sold the opera tickets to buy him a special keyboard that did dorky things. They’d laughed and claimed it was the best Christmas ever. Melody had been eight and couldn’t think of anything sadder than not being able to play with your Christmas presents. Now, she’d give anything to have that be the worst thing to ever happen to her. To have that kind of love.

  Then there were the bad memories of Christmas, which not so coincidentally, included the ones she’d spent with her ex-husband Bobby. Those memories revolved mainly around drinking and hangovers. Spending the holidays in casinos or running from loan sharks. Melody shook her head, hoping to erase the memories—as if her brain was a gigantic Etch-A-Sketch. She poured herself a cup of hot black coffee from her Thermos. She took an appreciative sip—the brew would probably last her only half the night, and then she would have to suffer through the vending machine swill.

  Her gaze darted to the Solitaire icon on the computer, and she forced her hand away from the mouse. It would be so easy to play a few hands. But Melody knew where that would lead. She’d soon be logging into an online poker game—no money, just for fun. But that would open the floodgates. Melody knew that she wouldn’t stop until she had swiped her credit card for a mere fifty bucks, just to see if she could still play.

  Before she could think any more about it, she maximized the camera views to take up the entire screen. With a final look at the monitors, Melody opened up a paperback. The motion detectors would ping an alarm if anything out there moved, and her cell phone would remind her when it was time to do another round. As an afterthought, she logged onto NORAD, which was tracking Santa’s route, and watched the big guy fly across Europe.

  Loud pounding on the lab’s front door made her jump up and only stellar reflexes and an inbred sense of self-preservation kept her from spilling her precious coffee. Melody glared outside and saw a powder-blue convertible parked out front—without a driver. She checked her cameras, but no one was outside.

  “Who the heck is knocking?” Melody asked. She set the cameras to record and went outside to take a look. Enabling the building alarm, she unlocked both sets of doors, letting them lock behind her. That way, even if someone managed to take her down and use her keys to get inside, they would set off the internal security and the cops would arrive in minutes. But she didn’t think that would happen. The PETA protestors wouldn’t stage something in December—not when the college kids who made up the majority of their warrior-staff were on vacation.

  “Who the heck is driving with the top down on a night like this?” she wondered, shining her flashlight into the empty front seat.

  “That would be me,” a voice from behind her replied.

  Melody whirled, pulling her pistol from the holster. She held the flashlight and the Glock at a man who had managed to get between her and the doors without her noticing. He was a big man, but his presence wasn’t menacing.

  “Easy,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “My name is Karam. The casino told me I could find you here.”

  Karam was swarthy enough to be a pirate. His dark eyes reminded her of the strong-brewed coffee she had in her thermos, deep, rich, and addicting. His shaggy black hair dusted his shoulders. If his face wasn’t so stern, he might even be called handsome. He didn’t look like a knee-breaker, but he did have a grim determination set to his posture. Melody flicked the safety off the pistol.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I need to talk to you about your husband.”

  “Ex-husband. “

  “Right.“ He nodded. “Ex. “

  “Are you a bill collector?”

  “In a matter of speaking.”

  Melody sighed but didn’t lower the pistol. “Look, Bobby and I are divorced. I’m no longer responsible for his debts, and if you think you can get to him through me, don’t waste your time. He left me for a blackjack dealer with huge gazongas after they embezzled several hundred thousands of dollars. Believe me, if I was in on the cut, I would not be working here on Christmas Eve. I don’t know where he is. If I did, I’d tell you. Honestly.”

  “You must have some idea,” Karam said.

  “Somewhere tropical near a casino would be my guess. Puerto Rico, maybe
? Monte Carlo?”

  Karam shook his head. “Monte Carlo is too sophisticated for them.”

  “Why are you looking for him?”

  “That blackjack dealer used to be my wife.”

  “Oh.” Melody lowered the pistol, putting the safety back on.

  “And they took my little girl with them.”

  Melody holstered the pistol. “Why don’t you come inside?”

  Karam nodded.

  She undid the locks and then the security alarm once she was inside. Melody could still press the panic button and swing her flashlight at his head if Karam tried anything hinky. She probably shouldn't have invited him in. But no one would know, and if she did get caught she could always say he had car trouble. After all, the two rats he was after were the human kind and not the ones the lab was experimenting on.

  “Coffee?” she asked.

  “Please.”

  She poured him some of her liquid gold into a Styrofoam cup and handed it to him and asked, “Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”

  “I don’t get cold,” he said.

  “I guess that explains the convertible.”

  “That and the roof’s broke. She didn’t just take the casino for money. She cleaned us out too.”

  Melody could relate. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He cupped his large hands around the coffee and stared into it. “What matters is that it’s Christmas. And I know they’re out partying while my daughter is somewhere in a hotel room or alone in a beat-up trailer. I can’t bear it.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Linda’s my ex. My daughter’s name is Stephanie.” Karam fished into his pocket and pulled out a picture of a girl who was grinning up at the camera. She had her dad’s scraggly black curls, although her eyes were a deep shade of blue.

  “How old is she?”

  “Ten,” Karam said.

  Melody shook her head. “Damn him. I wish I knew where they were.”

  Karam grew very still. “Say that again.”

  “What? I wish I knew where they were?”

  “One more time.” He closed his eyes.

  Melody cocked her head at him. “I do, you know. I really wish I knew where they were.”

  “Thank you,” Karam said and looked up at her.

  His eyes were no longer brown but gold, and he smiled triumphantly.

  “What the hell?” Melody jumped back, sloshing the coffee.

  “Look.” He pointed to her monitors. “That’s my wife, Linda, with your ex.”

  One of them showed a casino floor, instead of the back door of the lab. Sure enough, there were Bobby and Linda hunched together at a blackjack table, no doubt counting cards. They weren’t even trying to hide their faces. Linda was dressed up in a red sequined number that made her look cheap. Bobby was in a polo shirt and khakis, smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “How did you do that?” Melody asked, sitting down to get a better look at her ex. Why wasn’t the casino’s security on them like white on rice? The facial recognition program should have kicked in by now. Bobby looked happy and relaxed, as if he wasn’t haunted by nightmares of their apartment door being kicked in by thugs with Louisville sluggers. Melody swallowed hard, as acid burned in her stomach. There he was with his new girlfriend on Christmas Eve, celebrating his new life, while his old wife worked to pay the bills he’d left her with. Her hands clenched into a fist. What she wouldn’t give to slap that stupid grin off his face.

  “Zoom in. I need to find out what casino.”

  Melody blinked. She’d forgotten Karam was even there. “I don’t need to zoom in. I’ve been there. They’re at Atlantis in the Bahamas.”

  “Let me see if I can access the cameras in the children’s area.” Karam nodded and the monitor went fuzzy. The image of the blackjack tables disappeared and was replaced by nine smaller pictures of other rooms.

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Melody moved the mouse so the first room came up. It was a disco. Karam leaned in, and she became aware of the warmth that radiated out from him. It was like sitting next to a crackling fire.

  “Too old,” she muttered, looking at the teenagers dancing. She called up the next screen, but it was an empty movie theater. Karam smelled like a freshly cut Christmas tree. She breathed in, feeling a little misty and sorry for herself.

  The third room, however, held a bunch of younger girls doing arts and crafts.

  “Stop,” Karam said, moving forward so their knees touched. Melody felt an electric spark jump up her leg, and her heart beat a little faster.

  Scrolling in so the room took up the entire screen, she manipulated the camera until she came to a work station. Stephanie was painting a clay pot with a few other forlorn little girls and an older woman who was texting instead of paying attention to the kids.

  “Thank you,” he breathed. He turned in his seat, put his hand on her nape, and kissed her.

  It started out a brief kiss, one full of exaltation and relief. Fire touched her lips, and Melody melted. Instead of flinching back from Karam’s warm mouth, she sank her hands into his silky black locks. She flicked her tongue over his lips, and his mouth opened in a groan. Then the kiss became serious. Gripping her arms, he got to his feet, pulling her with him, but refusing to break the kiss. Melody sighed into his mouth as he held her tight against his hardening body. Her nipples pebbled against his chest, and she dipped her head back so he could plunder her mouth more freely. Karam’s hand slipped down to her ass before Melody realized what she was doing. Placing her palms on his wide chest, she reined in the urge to take his shirt off. She pushed away, and after a moment, Karam seemed to realize that the mood had changed, and he came up for air.

  “Sorry,” they said at the same time.

  Melody blushed and looked away. “I didn’t mean to jump on you.”

  “I wish you had,” Karam said bluntly.

  She looked back and him and smiled. “What’s with your golden eyes anyway?”

  “I can explain later. First, I’ve got to go get my daughter.”

  Melody nodded. “Good luck getting a flight this late on Christmas Eve.”

  Karam smiled, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

  He is a knockout, Melody thought, still reeling from his kiss.

  “I’ve got it covered. I’ll see you later. You’ve still got two wishes left.” He waved to her, but before she could ask him what he meant, he disappeared. When she looked out the door, the blue convertible was pulling away—without a driver.

  Chapter Two

  Melody sat down hard enough to make her wheeled chair squeal. She sniffed her coffee and then gave it a cautious sip. It didn’t taste like it had been tampered with. Blinking several times, she looked around. Karam’s coffee cup was still there. Melody ran her tongue over her lips. They felt a bit puffy and warm. The air was still scented with a hint of his pine aftershave. Her monitors were back to normal, and Santa was still making his way across Europe. She pressed her hands to her burning cheeks. What had just happened? Her cell phone reminder went off, and she automatically got up to do her rounds.

  The doors were still locked. The labs remained untouched. Melody prowled the building, thinking hard. Had she fallen asleep and just imagined it all?

  “The tape!” she thought suddenly. She remembered she had hit Record just in case Karam started anything funny. Hurrying to the security office, she jangled a few keys until she found the right one and let herself in. Flicking on the lights—to hell with the budget—she ejected the CD and put it into the player. After fiddling with the tracking, she saw herself sitting alone at the console. Melody watched herself pour no one a cup of coffee, fiddle with the monitors for a bit, and then stand up and make out with the air. Groaning, she ejected the CD and snapped it in half.

  “That’s just great. I’m losing my mind. Excellent. Merry Christmas.”

  After resetting the security system and putting in a new blank disk, Melo
dy trudged back to her desk. She was trying to figure out what had caused her breakdown. Was it stress? Loneliness? Well, Renaldo was good company, but he had a bit of a body odor problem, even if he was an awesome cuddler. Aside from some ferret snuggles, that had been it since Bobby left her for Linda—if that was even her name. After Bobby hadn’t come home for several days, Melody hadn’t been surprised when the police showed up looking for him. What was a surprise was when the casino sent security over to rough her up a bit. Luckily, they had believed her when she told them she wasn’t involved. They believed that Bobby had left dull old Melody for that bleached blonde with boobs that were the size of Cleveland.

  Still, being pathetic had its uses. If the goons had thought she was in on it... Melody shuddered. It could have gotten ugly. She’d escaped with a couple of bruises and not so thinly veiled threats. She hadn’t dug any deeper. She just filed for divorce. Six months later it was uncontested, granted, and she was free.

  On a whim, Melody picked up her phone and called a friend in Vegas.

  “Merry Christmas,” Stella Nacht said, sounding like a drag queen even over the phone.

  “To you too, honey,” Melody said with a smile. “What are you wearing?”

  “Oh, it’s going to be one of those phone calls. Well, sugar, normally I charge five ninety-nine a minute, but you’re lucky it’s Christmas. Imma give you a freebie.”

  “Sounds like the best present ever.”

  “I’m wearing red jingle bell elf shoes. Red and white striped tights. A green velvet mini dress with white fur trim. I’ve got actual Christmas balls in my ears, and they’re killing me.”

  “Are you wearing a Santa hat?”

  “Do I sound like an amateur? Of course I’m wearing a Santa hat. It’s leopard print. Rawr.”

  Melody felt her mood brightening a bit. “Where are you?”

  “We’re at T.J.’s mama’s house. The kids have finally gone to sleep and now the grownups can hit the eggnog. Only I hate the stuff, so I’m drinking straight brandy.”