Hullabaloo and Holly Too ( A Cozy Cash Mystery Christmas Novella) (The Cozy Cash Mysteries) by D. D. Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

all.
     
    My mom was all about good karma.
     
    This year, however, she was going to be doing much more than spreading good cheer.
     
    I gave her a thumbs-up, hoping my vote of confidence would give her a bit more bravado.
     
    She smiled, but it was a rather tight smile, indicating she wasn’t nearly as convinced as the rest of us that what they were about to do was karmically kosher.
     
    As her little car sputtered out the drive and down the long lane toward Lakeshore Drive, all the rest of us could do…was wait.
     
    Well, wait and watch.
     
    Hell yeah, we were watchin’ all the action.
     
    R and Roman had outfitted our family room with a giant flat-screen monitor that would be piping in the raw, live feed, first from my Mom’s car and then from the tiny hat cams R had helped my mother sew into each spy chick’s Santa hat. While the brim of each hat held the cameras, the balls were outfitted with mini microphones.
     
    We all went back into the house, took our seats, reached for the hot cocoa and cookies Wanda Lu had ready for us, and waited for the show to begin.
     

CHAPTER TEN
    Within five minutes, the fuzzies on the giant flat-screen turned into a crystal clear view of all three of our Santa Spies bouncing along the snow-covered potholes dotting the tiny road leading to Father Time’s lake house.
     
    A few moments later, the sound kicked-in and we could hear all three women singing Jingle Bells.
     
    My mother always sang Christmas carols when her nerves were shot. This was not a good sign.
     
    Kat sang along in a sweet, very controlled voice. Her countenance was completely convincing that she was more than ready for the task ahead.
     
    Grams, on the other hand, was whoopin’ it up big time in the backseat, throwing her entire body into the song. If she didn’t pipe down a bit, she’d lose her wired hat. ‘Course, that would have been good for all of our eardrums.
     
    “How much further?” Kat asked my mom, probably thinking no distance was short enough.
     
    “We’re just about to his driveway,” Mom said, moving her mouth in the contorted way she did before doing something she didn’t totally agree with, but also knew was best for my father or me.
     
    A moment later, her car was bumping up the pitted lane leading to Father T’s house.
     
    “Let’s do this,” Kat said, adjusting her hat so it was perfectly centered on her head.
     
    She reached around to the back seat and straightened-up Gram’s magic cam ensemble, which was now clinging for dear life onto the right side of her bird-sized head.
     
    My mother took a yoga deep breath and got out of the car with her hit squad.
     
    And no, I didn’t say Shit Squad, although that would be more accurate.
     
    Kat took the plate of cookies from Grams, but Grams held on tight to her thermos of tea.
     
    “Are you both sure about this?” Mom asked while they waited on Father Time to answer his doorbell.
     
    “Brownies are sooo yesterday,” Grams said.
     
    “What?” My mother asked, looking to Kat for clarification.
     
    “Trust me. You don’t want to know till we’re back in the car and on the way home.”
     
    As shock set-in, my mom’s eyes opened wide. But before she could question Kat further, Father Time was at his door, greeting his company.
     
    “I was so hoping you wouldn’t forget me this year, Mrs. C.”
     
    “You’re soon gonna wish we did, Sucker,” Grams said, thankfully soft enough that only her microphone and Kat must have been able to pick it up.
     
    Kat put her arm around Grams and must have pinched her a good one, ‘cause Grams let out a yelp.
     
    “Are you okay?” Father Time asked.
     
    “Well it ain’t warm and toasty out here, that’s for damn sure. You gonna invite us in or what?” Grams asked, rubbing her shoulder where Kat had probably left a nice welt.
     
    “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s a bit old and feisty,” my mom whispered.
     
    “I heard that, but this dude’s gotta be