the two of them. "Our neighborhood is going to the crazies." She slapped her hand over her mouth, realizing how her words sounded.
"Yep. Global warming or some such crazy thing. Screwing with people's minds."
"Speaking of odd people, I haven't even met the couple who bought the old Gomez place, yet." Thelma gestured to a house across the street. "Let alone heard who's responsible for the exuberant holiday spirit. And I always am the first to know everything when it comes to gossip."
Brie shuddered at the mention of the house where she'd almost lost her life during the summer when she had helped in a police investigation by infiltrating the couple's household only to be made as a spy. She still bore the scar from the knife wound, although she'd managed to move forward with Rye's help.
"You're slipping, Thelma. I tell ya, you're slipping." Jane shook her head at her best friend.
"Yeah, well, when you're my age, you can't do everything. Baking cookies, helping with charity…"
"Speak of the devil…" Jane glanced at an approaching person.
Rye sauntered up, joining the group. "Ladies." He stopped by Brie's side, entwining his fingers with hers. "What have I missed?"
"Thelma hasn't met the new neighbors yet. There's a rumor of elves invading the area. And, oh, yeah, Jane wants you to identify some poop in her yard. There's some question whether it's pig or reindeer." Brie grinned broadly at her boyfriend.
He held up one hand and shook his head. "Detective here. Not a poop analyzer. You're on your own."
A front door opening across the street interrupted their conversation. All three of them turned to stare at the former Gomez house. Sure enough, an elderly, gray-headed couple emerged from the house, holding hands as they followed the walk to their driveway.
Jane made a beeline for them. Brie, Thelma, and Rye followed along at a more sedate pace.
"Good day. I'm Jane. Live right across the street and down a couple of doors. Welcome to the neighborhood."
"Thank you." The elderly woman answered with a bright smile on her face. "Moving in took so much time, I'm afraid we weren't available to meet and greet."
Thelma waved her hand. "No worries. We're real friendly around here. You need anything, all ya got to do is ask." She leaned in and whispered loudly. "I think you'll like it here."
"Oh, I know we will."
"I'm Brie, by the way. Right across the street from you. This is Rye, my boyfriend."
He held out his hand, shaking both theirs. "Nice to meet you."
"They're shacking up. Boy howdy. Love if I ever saw it. Don't worry, though, they aren't screamers or anything. Kinda quiet in the sack. Trust me, I live next door, and unless I see them through the window, I never know when they're playing hide the sausage." Thelma paused for a beat. "Don't you think he's got a great ass?" She grinned from ear to ear, reached out to fondle Rye who sidestepped her questing hand easily.
Brie's face heated like a blowtorch.
The old man with the long white beard winked at Brie. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. Name's Kringle. Kris Kringle."
Brie blinked. "Kris Kringle? As in the Santa Claus?"
"Not anymore."
"Huh?"
"I retired a few years ago. Our son took over the family business." He wrapped an arm around his wife. "Decided we needed warmer pastures to spend our golden years. The North Pole is hard on old bones, you know."
"Speaking of Junior, he said he'd buzz the house as he made his rounds." Mrs Kringle smiled up at her husband. "If we can stay awake long enough to witness it."
"I'm sure we can find something to keep us awake in the meantime." He patted her rear with familiarity.
Oh, good grief. Santa—make that the former Santa—was making moves on Mrs Claus. I must have drunk too much eggnog. Although she didn't care for the stuff and didn't have any in the house. Either that or the cute little pair lived in a demented world. Just what she needed: nosey neighbors peeking through her kitchen window, one getting
"Yep. Global warming or some such crazy thing. Screwing with people's minds."
"Speaking of odd people, I haven't even met the couple who bought the old Gomez place, yet." Thelma gestured to a house across the street. "Let alone heard who's responsible for the exuberant holiday spirit. And I always am the first to know everything when it comes to gossip."
Brie shuddered at the mention of the house where she'd almost lost her life during the summer when she had helped in a police investigation by infiltrating the couple's household only to be made as a spy. She still bore the scar from the knife wound, although she'd managed to move forward with Rye's help.
"You're slipping, Thelma. I tell ya, you're slipping." Jane shook her head at her best friend.
"Yeah, well, when you're my age, you can't do everything. Baking cookies, helping with charity…"
"Speak of the devil…" Jane glanced at an approaching person.
Rye sauntered up, joining the group. "Ladies." He stopped by Brie's side, entwining his fingers with hers. "What have I missed?"
"Thelma hasn't met the new neighbors yet. There's a rumor of elves invading the area. And, oh, yeah, Jane wants you to identify some poop in her yard. There's some question whether it's pig or reindeer." Brie grinned broadly at her boyfriend.
He held up one hand and shook his head. "Detective here. Not a poop analyzer. You're on your own."
A front door opening across the street interrupted their conversation. All three of them turned to stare at the former Gomez house. Sure enough, an elderly, gray-headed couple emerged from the house, holding hands as they followed the walk to their driveway.
Jane made a beeline for them. Brie, Thelma, and Rye followed along at a more sedate pace.
"Good day. I'm Jane. Live right across the street and down a couple of doors. Welcome to the neighborhood."
"Thank you." The elderly woman answered with a bright smile on her face. "Moving in took so much time, I'm afraid we weren't available to meet and greet."
Thelma waved her hand. "No worries. We're real friendly around here. You need anything, all ya got to do is ask." She leaned in and whispered loudly. "I think you'll like it here."
"Oh, I know we will."
"I'm Brie, by the way. Right across the street from you. This is Rye, my boyfriend."
He held out his hand, shaking both theirs. "Nice to meet you."
"They're shacking up. Boy howdy. Love if I ever saw it. Don't worry, though, they aren't screamers or anything. Kinda quiet in the sack. Trust me, I live next door, and unless I see them through the window, I never know when they're playing hide the sausage." Thelma paused for a beat. "Don't you think he's got a great ass?" She grinned from ear to ear, reached out to fondle Rye who sidestepped her questing hand easily.
Brie's face heated like a blowtorch.
The old man with the long white beard winked at Brie. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. Name's Kringle. Kris Kringle."
Brie blinked. "Kris Kringle? As in the Santa Claus?"
"Not anymore."
"Huh?"
"I retired a few years ago. Our son took over the family business." He wrapped an arm around his wife. "Decided we needed warmer pastures to spend our golden years. The North Pole is hard on old bones, you know."
"Speaking of Junior, he said he'd buzz the house as he made his rounds." Mrs Kringle smiled up at her husband. "If we can stay awake long enough to witness it."
"I'm sure we can find something to keep us awake in the meantime." He patted her rear with familiarity.
Oh, good grief. Santa—make that the former Santa—was making moves on Mrs Claus. I must have drunk too much eggnog. Although she didn't care for the stuff and didn't have any in the house. Either that or the cute little pair lived in a demented world. Just what she needed: nosey neighbors peeking through her kitchen window, one getting
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