Page 5 of Naughty Santa Daddy

How was that relevant to the conversation? “Twenty-two.”

“Address?”

I give it to him and wait for the next question. This isn’t the first time I’ve been interviewed by law enforcement. I was trained by my Uncle Carlo in not only how to act in situations like this, but also how to reply to any and all questions if taken down to the precinct back home. But for some reason, this guy is rubbing me the wrong way. I don’t want to behave like I know I should, and I have a bad feeling my sassy side is about to come out to play.

“And what are you doing here at the hospital today, Ms. Bianchi?”

Was he for real? What did he think I was doing here? Although I was dressed in what could be considered normal clothes while doing my best to impersonate an elf, the green hat Goliath was going to give me was lost somewhere in the rush to get out of the range of fire, and I had on black boots instead of a pair of those cute slipper-shoes with bells on them that you see the elves in malls wearing. Still, I could pass as an elf. Maybe.

“I thought I would take a stroll through the courtyard, chat with all the sexy Santas, and see if one wanted to take me backto the North Pole with him.” Yes, I may be getting snarky, but they could have sent someone a little less assholish to do these interviews instead of Mr. Personality. He rakes his gaze over me, and I can’t help myself. “Like what you see? Ya know, I’m only this cute a couple of months out of the year. Christmas brings it out in me.”

“Are you always such a smartass?” he growls darkly.

I shrug, suddenly exhausted and tired of the games. I just want to go home. “I work for a local law firm and was voluntold to offer my services as an elf to help with the children and their visits with Santa.”

“Voluntold?”

“Volunteer, voluntold. Same difference.”

My cheek is really starting to hurt now, and my head is throbbing. The nurse has been cleaning my cut as we talk, and I hope she’s about done so I can leave.

“What time did you get here?”

“I was running a bit behind,” I admit, as I watch the nurse throw away the gauze she used to wipe the blood from my skin. “I was only here for about five minutes or so before the van pulled up.”

“Van? Did you get a good look at it?”

Of course, I did. I was trained to take in the smallest of details, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It was white. There was a blue logo on the side for a medical supply company—Jepsen, I believe.”

“What happened after that?”

Well, officer, they kindly introduced themselves before opening fire on several innocent individuals. Thank God the children weren’t out there yet.

“I saw three people, but they were wearing masks. The driver, the passenger, and the one who opened the side door.”

“Then what happened, Ms. Bianchi?”

We had a few drinks that led to some kissing and a wild orgy.

“They started shooting, and I ran, Officer. I’m sorry, I didn’t stick around to get more details for you. I was scared, and I ran.”

“Where did you go?”

“Into the parking garage.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

I don’t have to think twice about telling the lie. I don’t know it for a fact, but something is telling me there is a reason Goliath ghosted me. And that same something is strongly saying to keep my mouth shut about all things to do with the gorgeous biker.

“Where did you hide?”

No way in hell was I telling him about our little love nest and what took place in it.

“It was a parking garage. I was by vehicles.”

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