Ingest at your Own Risk.
And the guy who thought he was getting a sunburn cure and instead woke up with a fresh sunburn every day for a week? That's why they have Super Target—for aloe. And Noxzema, which, as my Aunt Ruby has told me over and over and over, "actually lowers the skin temperature."
Anyway, the shop merchandise was a nice additional source of revenue, especially in slow months. The pawn business wasn't a huge moneymaker in a small town, after all. And I had to look at myself in the mirror at night, so I was always fair and honest, which ruled out any huge scores. I'd watched some of those pawnshop shows on TV and wound up turning them off in disgust. Cheating the customers would never be the way I did business.
"Glad you like the mugs. Want one? I have plenty." I handed her a new mug in its box. "But back to Santa. Who in the world would get into a fight with Santa Claus?"
Lauren's eyes widened. "That's the wildest part. Santa was fightinganother Santa!"
The bells over my door rang, so we headed out into the shop before I could respond. Eleanor, my part-time employee, andWorld's Greatest Grandma, according to the sweatshirt she wore, walked in and stopped at the sight of Lauren.
"Oh, honey! You look adorable! Was the battle of the two Santas over which one got you as a helper?"
I didn't bother to ask how she'd heard. In small towns, gossip is an Olympic sport, and the folks of Dead End are all gold medalists.
"Who were they, though? Don't tell me Rooster Jenkins was fighting! He's the gentlest guy in the world!" I said, shaking my head. Rooster may have looked scary to somebody who didn't know him, but he'd played Santa at Town Hall every Christmas since I'd been a little girl, and at the Holiday Lights Festival. He was in his late sixties and built like an offensive lineman—nearly seven feet tall and probably over four hundred pounds. But he loved kids, and I'd never seen him act violent a day in my life.
I mean, he'd threatened to shoot the earless goat, but he'd been kidding.
"Yes! It was Rooster," Lauren said, putting her empty mug down on the counter. "This is what I was trying to tell you before we got distracted. Rooster and the Peterson brothers' cousin Darryl."
"No," I said, shocked. "Darryl from Nashville? He never struck me as the fighting type."
Eleanor shrugged, pragmatic as usual. "You just never know about people. I heard they were shouting about which one of them was therealSanta, and then it turned into a fight."
"In their Santa Claus costumes? Please tell me there weren't any kids there."
Lauren shook her head. "No, not in their red suits, luckily. Butstill. It was unexpected and just wrong somehow. Santas shouldn't be fighting in the bakery."
"More like they shouldn't be fighting at all, really. Not just in the bakery, right?" I said dryly.
"Eat your donuts," Lauren said, blowing me a kiss. "I have to get back downtown and see if I'm going to have an elf shift this afternoon or not. With all the excitement, I forgot to check. I'll let you know what Andy has to say about the Santa situation if I run into him. Later! Bye, Eleanor."
With that, she hurried out the door, leaving a trail of floral perfume and glitter in her wake.
"I love that woman," I said, biting a donut and closing my eyes in bliss. I also loved donuts and didn't get enough of them, since Jack ate enough for any six normal people.
Andhe had a sneaky tendency to steal sweets. No donut, cookie, or pie was safe from the man.
Eleanor put her purse away, picked up a cloth, and started wiping the already spotless glass counter. We both spent a lot of time keeping the shop sparklingly clean, because nobody wants to hang out in a dusty, ratty-looking place.
Also, we were both stress cleaners, and there had been an awful lot of stress this year, so Dead End Pawn was probably sterile enough to do surgery in.
Not that I wanted to do surgery, I silently added, before a situation that required it turned up. Oddly enough, random thoughts had a surprising tendency to manifest into reality in my town. Not the kind where I wished I could win the lottery, sadly. Just the "oh, no, I hope an alligator doesn't show up in my house" thoughts. (One had.)
So, it was better to be clear, even in the privacy of my mind.
"Did you hear where Andy was? Did he arrest anybody?" Andy Kelly was Dead End's chief—and usually only—deputy.
Eleanor looked up from her polishing. "I don't know. Where is the sheriff?"
I shook my head. "She said she had to go out of town for a while, because something from her past reared its 'ugly, stupid head,' but that's all she told me."
I'd been a little hurt. The newish Dead End sheriff and I were on the way to becoming close friends, or so I'd thought. If I'd had an emergency out of town, especially just before Christmas, I would have told her about it.
Not everybody was as open as me, though. I tried to remember that most days. Other people's boundaries were there to respect, not to breach. Growing up in such a small town, it hadn't been the easiest lesson to learn.
"I see you made real progress on decorating for Christmas," she said, looking around the shop at the tinsel, twinkling lights, and trees.
