LITMIR.BIZ

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out of cookies.”

      Hannah and Mike walked down the path between the tents. It was labeled North Pole Avenue and at the end was a row of log cabins. Each one had a sign hanging over the door on a pole that jutted out from the cabin. The sign reminded Hannah of the pictures she’d seen of English pubs, but it was clear these log cabins didn’t sell roast beef sandwiches and stout.

      “Larry spent big bucks on those buildings,” Mike said, gesturing toward the Crazy Elf Toy Shop.

      “How do you know?”

      “I priced them when I lived in The Cities. I wanted to put one in the backyard for the mower, and the snow blower, and things like that.”

      “How much were they?”

      “It was a thousand for the smallest one, and that was a couple of years back. These have got to be the largest. They’re huge. And unless Larry got a real deal, they’ve got to run over five thousand apiece.”

      “Maybe he’s renting,” Hannah suggested.

      “That would make sense since he’ll be closing down right after Christmas. Either that, or he plans to put them up for sale.”

      “They’re too big to put in a backyard.” Hannah noticed that a steady stream of customers was filing into the log cabin on the end and she steered Mike that way. “Who would buy them?”

      “I don’t know. Someone with a hobby farm might like one. They could use it for a woodworking shop, or fancy storage, or anything like that. They’re even big enough for farm machinery, or a couple of cars.”

      “Maybe,” Hannah said, sounding doubtful. The cabins had doors that were much too small for car or farm machine storage. They’d have to be remodeled and that would cost.

      Mike gave a chuckle. “Mayor Bascomb can take one and use it for a second ice fishing house. It’s even bigger than the one he has.”

      “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if that happened,” Hannah said, stopping at the cabin with the most foot traffic and the one sporting a Crazy Elf Cookie Shop sign.

      “Let’s go in and I’ll buy you a cup of coffee,” Mike said. “I’d buy you a cookie too, but they’re out.”

      Hannah turned to him in amazement. “How can you tell from out here?”

      “I’ve been watching and the only things the customers carry out are hot drink cups. If they had cookies, some of them would be carrying bags.”

      “I’m impressed!”

      “You should be,” Mike grinned down at her. “I guess that’s why I’m the detective and you’re not.”

      Hannah bit her tongue. There was no way she was going to ruin the evening and point out that she’d solved more than a dozen murder cases. If she did that, Mike would be sure to point out that she’d gotten herself into trouble a couple of times, and he’d been the one who had to bail her out. It was best to remain silent and not bring up the subject that was a sore point between them.

      “After you,” Mike said, opening the cabin door and holding it for Hannah.

      “Thanks.” Hannah stepped inside and blinked a couple of times. It was glitter and glitz, glitz and glitter. The inside of the cookie shop was decorated with thousands of miniature Christmas lights and they were all blinking on and off randomly. Wreaths hung behind the serving counter, a large stuffed bear with a plaid Christmas hat was positioned near the area where the line formed, and every time someone walked past, the bear wished them a merry Christmas. Glittering garlands of silver and blue foil were looped in every place possible, electric candles were perched on every windowsill, and two huge Christmas trees sat by the back wall, one in either corner.

      “Look at those trees,” Mike said, as if Hannah could possibly have missed them. They were at least fifteen feet tall and they were decorated with enough ornaments and lights for a half-dozen trees. The lovely angels on top had two-foot wingspans, and their gossamer wings were shimmering in the air currents as if trying to work up the speed for a takeoff.

      Hannah and Mike passed the bear, who wished both of them a merry Christmas, and took their place at the end of the line. The procession of people waiting for sustenance was structured by red velvet ropes attached to giant candy canes on stands. Hannah noticed that Larry had taken his cue from amusement parks and purchased stands that could be arranged and rearranged to accommodate any size crowd.

      The line moved swiftly and soon Hannah and Mike were almost at the front. “See?” he pointed to the empty display case. “No cookies.”

      “You’re right. I wonder how long they’ve been out.”

      “Since six,” replied the girl who’d moved over to wait on them. “Your cookies practically fly out the door, Miss Swensen.”

      “Krista?” Hannah asked. The girl in the elf costume looked a bit like Barbara Donnelly’s granddaughter.

      “It’s me. Grandma dropped me off at work tonight and she said I don’t look like myself.”

      “Your grandma’s right. If you hadn’t spoken to us I never would have recognized you.”

      “Maybe that’s good. The customers aren’t too happy when I tell them we’re out of cookies. Can you talk Mr. Jaeger into ordering more?”

      “I’ll try. Is he here tonight?”

      “He’s here every night. If you keep on going past the toy shop and take a left at Rudolf Lane, you’ll see a woodsy-looking trailer off to the right. It’s all decorated with garlands of Christmas lights and there’s a blue flocked tree out in front. That’s Elf Headquarters. Just ring the bell and Mr. Jaeger will let you in. Now what can I get for you two?”

      “I’ll take a large Holly Jolly,” Mike answered her and then he turned to Hannah. “How about you?”

      “I don’t know. What’s a Holly Jolly?”

      “It’s hot chocolate mixed with coffee that’s flavored with orange,” Krista explained. “It’s got whipped cream on top and it’s really good, Miss Swensen.”

      “Then I’ll have one, too.”

      In less than a minute Hannah and Mike were exiting the building armed with two carryout cups of Holly Jolly. Hannah took a sip of hers and was pleasantly surprised. “This is pretty good,” she said.

      “You’re right. It’s perfect for a cold night like this. The only way you could make it better is to put in a shot of brandy.”

      Hannah was surprised. Mike wasn’t a big drinker. He’d have the occasional beer, or a glass of wine with a fancy dinner, but she’d never seen him drink brandy.

      “Or you could go with an orange liqueur like Grand Marnier. That would bring out the orange in the coffee. Or you could use orange flavored vodka. They’ve got practically every flavor now.”

      He’d mentioned three kinds of liquor in as many seconds and Hannah thought she knew why. “You must have had a rough day,” she guessed.

      “Yeah. That’s one of the reasons I dropped by, but I didn’t want to say anything in front of Norman. It’s just a hunch, that’s all.”

      “What’s just a hunch?”

      “Norman’s mother. I think she could be shoplifting.”

      “What?!”

      “I told you, it’s just a hunch. I’ve been thinking about it all day and it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

      Hannah planted her heels on the walkway and stopped. “Hold on a minute. What makes you think Carrie’s shoplifting? And start from the beginning.”

      “Last night was the third time I followed her home from the mall. She was out there on Sunday night, and last week on Monday and Tuesday nights,

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