08bis Visions of Sugar Plums by Janet Evanovich Page B

television, the game, and the ice skates. I have the train and the computer at home. Do you remember what else she wanted?"
    "How are you going to pay for all that?"
    "MasterCard."
    "It'll take you five years to pay it off."
    "I don't care. It's Christmas. You have to do these things at Christmas."
    Oh yeah. I kept forgetting. "Mary Alice had about fifty things on that list. The only one I remember is the pony."
    "Omigod," Valerie cried. "The pony! How could I forget the pony?"
    "Val, you can't get her a pony. This isn't Little House on the Prairie. We live in Trenton. Kids in Trenton don't get ponies."
    "But she wants one. She'll hate me if I don't get her a pony. It'll ruin her Christmas."
    Boy, I was really glad I had a hamster. I was planning on giving Rex a raisin for Christmas.
    I hung up on Valerie, and I turned to Diesel. "Do you have any kids?"
    "No."
    "How do you feel about kids?"
    "The same way I feel about fake elves. I think they're cute from a distance."
    "Suppose you wanted to have kids... could you reproduce?"
    Diesel looked over at me. "Could I reproduce? Yeah, I guess I could." He gave his head a shake. "I have to tell you, I am never again going to let anyone pop me in on someone. It's too weird. Not that this was my idea in the first place." He reached across me, into the bag my mother gave us, and found a leftover brownie. "Usually women are asking me to buy them a beer. Not you. You're asking me if I can reproduce."
    "Make a turn at Clinton," I told him. "I want to have another chat with Elaine."
    It was midafternoon and unusually gloomy when Diesel drove down Grape Street. Dark clouds swirled in the sky, and an eerie green light streaked through them. The air felt heavy and ominously charged. Doomsday air.
    Lights were on in houses, and Elaine had her roof lights blazing, blinking out her season's greetings. Diesel parked in front of the house, and we both got out. The wind had picked up, and I pulled my chin in and walked head down to Sandy Claws' front porch.
    "I'm very busy," Elaine said when she answered the door.
    Diesel brushed past her, into the house. "It smells like you're still baking cookies."
    Elaine followed Diesel into the kitchen, half running to keep up with Diesel's stride. "Pecan shortbread for tomorrow," she said. "And big cookies with M&Ms in them."
    "I'm curious," Diesel said. "Who eats all these cookies?"
    "The elves, of course."
    Diesel and I exchanged glances.
    "They're not really elves," Elaine said. "Sandy just likes to call them that. His little elves. Sandy is so clever. He has a whole scheme worked out to sell toys. It's because of his name, Sandy Claws. Have you noticed how it sounds like Santa Claus?"
    "How many elves are you feeding?" Diesel asked Elaine.
    "Goodness, I don't know, but there must be a lot of them. I make dozens of cookies every day."
    "And they go where?"
    "I don't know, exactly. Lester stops around and picks them up. Lester is Sandy's production manager."
    "About five-foot-ten? Gray hair, slim, dark-rimmed glasses?" Diesel asked.
    "Yes. That's him," Elaine said.
    The guy who was interviewing elves.
    "I don't mean to be rude," Elaine said, "but you're going to have to leave now. I have to finish my baking."
    "You don't mind if I look around, do you?" Diesel asked.
    Elaine nervously picked at her apron. "I don't see why you would want to do that. Sandy isn't here."
    Diesel opened the door to a small downstairs powder room and looked inside. "Are you sure you don't know where Sandy is?"
    "Stop that!" Elaine said. "Stop snooping in my house. I'm going to call the police."
    "We have a legal right to search this house," Diesel said. "Isn't that right, Steph?"
    "Yep. We received that right when your brother signed his bond agreement."
    "This whole thing is so silly," Elaine said. "All over a couple power tools and some paint. And Sandy wouldn't have had to steal anything if the store had been open. You can't stop a whole production line just because you run out