Christmas Caramel Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

tight, Hannah wondered why she couldn’t see the bulge of the fasteners on Phyllis’s brassiere. Then she realized that perhaps Phyllis wasn’t wearing a brassiere, and she was even more shocked than she’d been before. The red velvet skirt of the costume was short. Very short. And with the display of unadorned skin with no protection from the winter elements, Mrs. Claus would have been flash frozen like a Popsicle in no time flat.
    Santa Claus was wearing heavy winter boots. The height came just under his knees, and the boots matched the ones that had been depicted on countless Christmas cards. Mrs. Claus, on the other hand, was wearing fire-engine-red patent-leather, knee-high boots that perfectly matched the color of her red velvet costume. The heels on the boots were pencil thin, and Phyllis looked erotically alluring. She was a modern, very sexy Mrs. Claus, and no one would ever mistake her for the overweight, jolly, grey-haired Mrs. Claus that smiled continually and baked cookies for Santa’s elfin toy-makers.
    Hannah turned to look at Lisa, who appeared every bit as scandalized as Hannah was. Phyllis Bates wasn’t playing Mrs. Claus. She was playing a Playboy bunny dressed up as a sexy, over-the-top Mrs. Claus.
    Lisa gave an audible gasp as Mrs. Claus bent over to tuck in the lap robe around Santa’s knees. Hannah felt like groaning, too. It wasn’t her place to do it, but someone had better tell Phyllis never to bend over!
    Trudi Schumann turned around to say something to Tory Bascomb. Tory nodded and rose to her feet.
    â€œMrs. Claus!” Tory called out.
    Phyllis stopped arranging the lap robe and turned to face their director. “Yes?”
    â€œWhere did you get your costume? And don’t try to tell me it was from our costume department, because I know we don’t have anything like that !”
    Phyllis tossed her head, which would normally cause her blond hair to swing in a graceful arc. Now, however, the effect was lost due to the short, curly Mrs. Santa wig she was wearing. “The Mrs. Claus costume you have didn’t fit me. I had to go to Minneapolis to get this one.”
    â€œWhich doesn’t fit you, either. It’s much too short, much too brief, and much too tight.”
    â€œNo, this one fits perfectly!” Phyllis argued.
    Hannah held her breath. Tory Bascomb had a legendary temper, and Hannah expected it to manifest itself at any moment.
    â€œYou’re right, Miss Bates. It certainly does fit. It’s the perfect costume for a Christmas show in a strip club. But . . . my dear girl . . . this is not a strip club. This is general entertainment for men, women, and children of all ages. And there is no way that I will allow you on my stage in a lap dancer’s costume!”
    Tory turned to Trudi. “Is there any way you can alter our Mrs. Claus costume to fit Miss Bates so that she can return her lamentable and unfortunate choice?”
    â€œOf course, Miss Bascomb. All I need are her measurements and I can have it ready by tomorrow.” Even in the darkened theater, Hannah saw that Trudi’s lips were twitching with laughter. “I can do it, no problem.”
    â€œThen get right on it after tonight’s rehearsal. And thank you, Trudi. You’ve saved us from total disaster.” Tory turned to face the stage again. “Now let us put this unfortunate incident behind us and rehearse the rest of the Santa appearance. Miss Bates?”
    â€œYes?”
    Hannah’s eyes widened. It was clear that Phyllis was not cowed by the famous director’s tone.
    â€œPlease go to the table, pick up an imaginary Christmas gift bag, and carry it to Santa.”
    Hannah and Lisa watched as Phyllis walked to the table, pretended to pick up something from the surface, and returned to hand the nonexistent object to Herb.
    â€œVery good. We’ll have a silver tray for the bags the night of the performance. Our prop