Page 40 of A Dye Hard Holiday

“Gabe!” The last thing I wanted was my kids calling me Bad Daddy in public.

“I was just teasing, Dylan. Good Daddy, not Bad Daddy.”

“Bad Daddy!” both twins said.

Gabe bit his lip to keep from laughing, but I wasn’t amused. Hell, I would’ve preferred Little Daddy over Bad Daddy. I was going to smash that advent calendar to bits, but only after Gabe saw what he was missing out on.

“Good Daddy,” the grandparents all said as if they sensed the storm brewing inside me.

“Bad Daddy!” Dylan and Destiny countered.

No matter how many times someone called me Good Daddy, the kids kept insisting I was Bad Daddy. They giggled and squealed like happy babies do, especially when I pretended to cry. I realized they were treating it as a game. Instead of launching their sippy cups off their high chairs just so Gabe or I would pick them up, they teased me to get a dramatic reaction. So, I used reverse psychology and referred to myself as bad so that they would call me good. It worked beautifully and I figuratively patted myself on the back.

“Where are we going exactly?” I asked.

“Wen told me about this subdivision in a neighboring community that goes all out for the holidays. Every house is decorated with a theme, and he said that some of the displays flicker in time to music.”

“Oh man,” I said, certain that Gabe would be taking notes for a future display.

“We’ll blow them away next year, Gabe,” my father said, rubbing his hands together.

“You know it, Dad.”

We weren’t the only ones driving out to see the neighborhood light displays that night. Cars were backed up down the street for a good mile and a half and the spectators creeped along at a snail’s pace. Our babies were sound asleep before we even turned on the street, but Gabe lit up as bright as the displays. His childlike enthusiasm made me ridiculously happy, and I forgot all about punishing him.

My dad and Gabe chatted nonstop on the trip home about all the things they wanted to do next year and how they thought they could achieve it. All that excitement came to a screeching halt when we turned down our street and noticed that our house wasn’t lit up like it had been when we left.

“We’ve been hit by the Christmas Bandits!” Gabe said. Our moms took the babies inside while the rest of us checked out the damage.

Sure enough, someone had come along and cut the electrical cords where they plugged into the outlets, stole our big, beautiful wreath off the front door, and busted the glass snowmen on the porch.

“Can you believe the balls on these guys?” Gabe snarled. “They vandalized the police captain’s house? Merry Fucking Christmas to you too, assholes. Laugh it up while you can because I’m going to find you,” he yelled into the night.

Uh oh.Gabe was about to go John McClane on somebody!

“THECHRISTMASBANDITS HITten more houses last night besides yours, Cap,” Wen said. “This is getting out of control.”

“It has to be young punks with nothing better to do with their time,” Adrian commented.

“Do you think it’s the same group of burglars and vandals?” Wen asked. “The crimes are different but their ability to move around town quietly without getting caught is the same.”

“I guess it’s possible,” Adrian said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Typically, people’s crimes escalate, not de-escalate.”

“Boredom? Easy targets?” Wen asked.

“Anything is possible,” Adrian replied.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to figure out what I should do next. I’d already held a town hall meeting for fuck’s sake and increased patrol officer presence. These little fuckers were always a step ahead of me.

My cell phone lit up with an incoming call from Josh, and I welcomed the interruption to my downward spiraling thoughts. “Miss me already, Sunshine?” I said into the phone.

“I’ve been hit!” Josh said frantically.

“What?” My heart nearly exploded in my chest as my mind raced through all the horrible possibilities. “Oh my God! Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll be right there!”

“What do you mean? I’m at the salon. Where’d you think I was?” The anger in his voice dwindled to irritation.

“You said you were hit, so I thought you were involved in a car accident.” I was going to turn him over my knee and spank his ass for scaring the fuck out of me like that.