A Case of Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page B

distracting and disconcerting the way he kept registering every time Linus said
    Shane . Even lying in an icy puddle of water he’d noticed, had felt a snap of surprise,
    maybe even pleasure that Linus had remembered his name.
    Which was idiotic because he too remembered the names of the principals in all his
    investigations. “Believe me, I get it,” Shane said. “I was just a job for you.”
    Linus winced. “At first, yeah. Of course. I had never met you, and what I knew of
    you was…you were suspected of stealing a very valuable antique. I know that you’re still
    pissed off…insulted at the idea that anyone would suspect you, but that’s the reality. The
    Fallons suspected you, and their suspicions did not seem unreasonable to my bosses at
    MetMu. It was my job to find out if you did rip us off. I went into it thinking you might
    be a bad actor. But my investigation cleared you. Completely. Totally.”
    Everything Linus said was true. It was not reasonable to remain angry over this, and
    yet Shane was. No…unfortunately it wasn’t only that he was angry. He was still—and
    this was what bugged him most—hurt. Which was so ridiculous, so out-of-character for
    him. He was not emotionally clingy. He always tried to end things before they got sticky,
    part ways on friendly terms.
    But then it was easy to be friendly when you were the one who wanted out.
    Stick to the facts. Building relationships, forging temporary and artificial bonds, was
    a key part of pulling off the kind of investigation Linus had been hired for. Shane had
    been in Linus’s position many times, the only difference being that the people he had
    helped to incriminate themselves were actually crooks.
    And he hadn’t slept with any of them.
    Even so…
    “Fair enough,” Shane said.
    Linus looked surprised and then relieved. “Yeah?”
    Shane shrugged. “Like you said, it wasn’t personal. It’s the way the game is played.”
    Linus offered a tentative smile. Norton’s smile. Shane felt a pang.
    Linus said, “Well, and it wasn’t all a game. I did really—”
    Uh, no. No. Shane did not want to hear this. Did not want Linus to throw him a bone,
    award him a consolation prize. He did not need Linus feeling sorry for him. He could
    deal with the fact it had been strictly business on Linus’s part—which was to say, it had
    been painful at the time, but nobody had to know that but himself.
    “Sure,” Shane said. “Me too. The fact is, my reaction was solely based on the shock
    of seeing you again after all this time.”
    Linus frowned.
    “It was a difficult time in my li—career, and your leaving without explanation
    became part of that general confusion. But now I have the explanation. And, as you say,
    you were only doing your job, and ultimately, your actions helped me get my job back.”
    “Okay, now you sound like Mr. Spock,” Linus said. “All I’m trying to say is, it
    wasn’t only —”
    “Live long and prosper.” Shane closed the door.

    He had put away the groceries, changed into dry clothes, and was just settling his
    weary head on one of the sofa’s pancake-like throw pillows when, once again, someone
    knocked on the door.
    “Honest to God,” Shane muttered, rising and making the now familiar trek to the
    front door. The hospital emergency room had seemed quiet and peaceful compared to this
    place.
    He opened the door, and one of Santa’s elves stood on his doorstep.
    Negative. Recalibrating…
    Green parka, green turtleneck, green trousers, green and red Christmas socks… He
    recognized the round face and Friar Tuck hairdo of the driver of the golf cart that had
    flattened him forty-five minutes earlier.
    Okay, in fairness, he’d hit the golf cart first.
    “Hi,” Shane said. It was more question than greeting.
    “Oh good! You really are all right,” the man said. “I was worried.”
    “I’m okay. Thanks for your concern.”
    “I brought a peace offering.” A plump, freckled hand held up a bottle