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SEVENTY-SIX

EMERALD FALLS

The sound of Barbara’s sobs in the graveyard taunted Modelle.

The police were looking for her for questioning in the murder of those two little girls at Emerald Falls.

Laughter bubbled in his throat. The ones that detective had practically accused him of killing.

He’d been tempted to follow her once she left the cemetery, but with the police looking for her, that was too dangerous.

She’d sent him to prison once. It wouldn’t happen again.

Instead, he drove back into town savoring the pain on her face.

The streets were filled with tourists, the street vendors hopping, holiday music filling the air. Children skated and laughed and ran from one activity to another, enjoying the winter treats and rushing to sit on Santa’s lap.

He stood in the shadows of Santa’s North Pole and watched as a toddler climbed onto the stage and began jabbering to the elves handing out candy canes. Next came a pretty little girl with hair a buttery blond.

She reminded him of his own child. One everyone thought he’d killed.

If someone recognized him here and saw him watching the children, the police would drag him back to jail.

But he couldn’t help himself. His need to see the little girls was overpowering. The children loved Santa. He wanted to be that Santa and hold them while they sat on his lap.