Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10)(88)

“Two weeks till Christmas!” Jack roared. “Daddy says we can get a tree this weekend!”

Next to D.D., Alex groaned. Jack found the space between them and started his favorite morning ritual of bouncing. Kiko, on her spindly black-and-white legs, did her best to dance around her favorite boy, while tripping over Alex’s and D.D.’s prone forms.

D.D. managed to turn her head toward her husband. “We’re getting a tree this weekend?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“We are going to find a real grown tree and cut it down!” Jack fairly screamed. “With a chainsaw and everything. Then we’re going to drink hot cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows!”

“When he discovers coffee,” D.D. said, “we’re in real trouble.”

She managed to unpin her arms from the covers and hold them out to her very exuberant child. In response, Jack collapsed to his knees, then pitched forward into her arms. He was still vibrating. He smelled of grubby hands, syrupy pancakes, and little-boy sweat. God, she loved him.

“Will a Christmas tree survive in our house?” she asked him.

“Of course! Kiko and I will take very good care of it.”

“You can’t leap on the Christmas tree.”

“No!”

“You can’t jump around the Christmas tree.”

“Never.”

“No throwing ornaments. And absolutely, positively, no peeing on branches.”

Jack stared at her indignantly.

“That last instruction was for Kiko,” D.D. informed him. Since Jack was on top of her, Kiko had moved on to Alex and was attempting to lick his face, whether Alex wanted his face licked or not.

“What time is it?” Alex mumbled around dog tongue.

“Round bottom six,” Jack supplied.

“Oh dear,” D.D. moaned. “I gotta get to work.”

“No work!” Jack ordered. “Let’s go get the tree.”

“How about work and school today, tree tomorrow?”

Alex, one hand blocking his cheek from Kiko, arched a brow at her. First rule of thumb for a kid Jack’s age was not to make promises you can’t keep. Given the demands of D.D.’s job, that was easier said than done.

“I can figure it out,” she assured him. “For that matter, I have a new fed playmate. Maybe I can make her work tomorrow.”

“You have a playmate?” Jack asked. He’d calmed down slightly, curling up in her arms, head pressed against her shoulder. Kiko gave up on Alex, licked Jack’s face instead. The dog was very gentle about it, as if she was grooming her puppy. Kiko loved Jack, too.

“A fed playmate?” Alex asked.

“SSA Kimberly Quincy. She has an interest in my victim, who we’re pretty sure has been living under a false identity.”

“What about the wife?” Alex asked.

“I still don’t know. But I’m thinking that whatever happened Tuesday night was more than a domestic situation. Which is why”—she flipped abruptly, catching Jack beside her and tickling his sides while he giggled hysterically—“I gotta get to work.”

“Gonna catch bad guys?” Jack asked. It was his favorite question.

“Oh yeah. And lock up a few from Santa’s naughty list as well. We all gotta do what we can to help the big guy this time of year. Speaking of which, where’s the elf?”

The Elf on the Shelf, which Alex had sagely brought home a few weeks ago and started moving around the house, was supposedly the eyes and ears of Santa. Reported all naughty, noticed all nice. Personally, D.D. thought a spying house elf was a little creepy. But Jack was all about keeping the elf happy, given that his future supply of Christmas Lego bricks depended on it. Oh, the power of the holidays.

Not to mention, D.D. herself had taken up Googling photos of Felonious Elf on the Shelf, posed in various criminal acts, and/or at various crime scenes. Some of them made her laugh hysterically, which was probably inappropriate. Then again, she knew for a fact that Alex had already looked up how to make elf blood spatter. What either one of them was doing raising a child was the real question. And yet, here they were.

At the mention of Elf of the Shelf, Jack untangled himself from D.D.’s embrace and went tearing out of the room, Kiko in immediate pursuit.

“Does he ever walk?” D.D. asked.

“Not that I’ve seen.”

“I could use that kind of energy on my case team.”

“What do you think?” Alex said, referring to her case now that Jack was out of the room.

“I have no idea. You know how at the academy you’re always talking about the importance of victimology?”

He nodded.

“This is one of those cases. Turns out Conrad Carter wasn’t Conrad Carter at all. He’s been living for years under an assumed name. Even met Jacob Ness in a bar in the South under an alias.”

“The Jacob Ness?”

“Which is why I got a visit from the SSA Quincy. Then, just to make it really interesting, Conrad’s father was a detective in Florida who died under mysterious circumstances.”

Alex’s eyes had widened. “That’s one of the crazier victim backgrounds I’ve ever encountered.”

“Hah. Wait till you meet my case team.”