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hit it off so I went to a hotel room with him and we… well…"
    Mike interrupted with his hysterical laughter. "Was that the first time since Jeff left that you got laid?"
    Yes. "No," she said defensively. "Anyways, he disappeared."
    "Ouch! I thought cold, icy bitches were usually firecrackers in bed."
    "Fuck you, Mike!" Why did she even bother calling him? "Why does everyone think he left because I suck in bed?"
    "Because it makes more sense than the alternative of being kidnapped by the Grinch."
    Why was everyone jumping to believe that he left her? What if he did? Why was she having such a hard time believing it? "Listen, Mike. He's a nice guy. He doesn’t give me the fuck 'em and leave 'em impression. And he left his phone and wallet behind. Why would he do that if he ditched me?"
    "He forgot?"
    "So why not come back for it? Come on, neither one of us is a little kid, we could both handle the 'it was fun but I never want to see you again' speech. Why run?"
    "Maybe he's immature about it?"
    She rolled her eyes. "Or maybe we could trust my gut right now and assume that he was taken."
    "Who would want to take him?"
    Her hand tightened on the phone. "That's why I'm calling you, you idiot! So you could do some digging for me."
    "Why don't you call the cops and open a missing person's report?"
    "Because they'll assume the same thing you and Wendy assumed and they will not open it without him being missing for twenty-four hours, you know that."
    "How is Wendy?"
    She stood from the bed and started pacing again. "Focus, Mike. Help me find Santa Claus."
    He burst out laughing again. "I can't believe you had sex with Santa Claus. Did his thick white beard tickle when he ate you?"
    Noelle covered her face with her hand and tried not to laugh. As frustrated as she was, the image that conjured in her mind was both funny and gross. "Mike," she said in a warning tone.
    "Okay, okay, I'm looking."
    She sat back down as typing carried through the phone. "He was born in Crown Point, Indiana." More typing. "His father died exactly a year ago tonight."
    Something inside her tingled. It was as though her gut instincts reached out and slapped her across the face, screaming at her that this was a clue.
    "How did he die?"
    "Give me a minute."
    She waited and lay on the bed. Her head sank into the pillows.
    A few minutes later, Mike spoke up again. "He was strangled to death. A bunch of kids found him in a public park on Christmas Morning, right by Santa's Sleigh."
    "Santa's Sleigh?"
    "I'm looking at the crime scene photos right now. There is a metal sleigh with metal reindeer the park district puts out every year by the playground for kids. The reports say that one family with three kids was going to the park to take pictures on the sleigh when the kids ran to it and found the dead body."
    Those poor kids. It had to traumatize them to see such a thing. "You said he was strangled." Which meant he knew his killer. Strangulation was a hands-on method of murder, a personal one, and the victim was someone you knew and hated. "Were there any prints? Was the killer caught?"
    "I'm reading those reports now. Give me a minute."
    She stood up and paced the room some more while she waited.
    "Okay, got it. There were no prints. He wore leather gloves. But there was an eyewitness, a man who was walking his dog earlier that night, and he saw what he describes as a 'heated altercation between two men'. Said they were arguing and one threatened to get revenge on the other. This man didn't stay around, saying he decided to mind his own business, but he did see the other guy and there is a sketch artist picture, although the man is still unidentified and on the run."
    "Can you email me that picture?"
    "Sure. What's your personal email again?"
    She spelled it out for him as her mind raced. Santa's father was killed exactly one year ago and the killer was still on the run. What if the killer had an issue with Santa, Jr. as well? It was known that killers often