Free Ghosts of Christmas Past by Corrina Lawson

empty. He turned left and went to the security room, located behind a door marked Private .
    Alvarez and the two security guards were waiting for him.
    He sized up the room. Only two chairs, indicating two guards per shift, and one of the seven monitors was a CRT, not an LCD.
    â€œLooks like the budget is about the same here as in my precinct,” Al drawled.
    The guards, a matched set of brawny men—one black, one white—nodded.
    â€œWhat did you find?” he asked Alvarez. He noticed a black duffle bag was at her feet. That must be the victim’s belongings. She was still keeping watch over them, as he’d ordered.
    Good. She was holding up okay for pulling a double shift.
    â€œUnfortunately, the video cameras surrounding Holidays of the World are inoperative. We’re not sure how long they’ve been broken.” Alvarez glared at the guards. “But we have video of our victim arriving last night, after closing hours.”
    â€œLet’s see that, at least.” Yeah, it was too much to hope the murder was on tape.
    The guards cued up the footage and Al watched a late model Ford Fiesta pull in. Not an ostentatious guy, the victim, or maybe he didn’t want anyone asking questions about how he could afford a fancy car. A battered Ford Taurus pulled in next to the Fiesta.
    Unfortunately, the driver of the Taurus was out of camera range. The video stopped.
    â€œThat’s it?” Al asked.
    â€œThey went in a private side door that only employees can access,” Alvarez said, and the two guards nodded in unison. “No cameras around the back. But about thirty minutes later, the Taurus pulls out.”
    â€œLicense plate?” Al asked.
    Alvarez ripped a page from her notebook and handed it to Al. “Ran it already, Captain.”
    â€œGood.” But inwardly he groaned when he read the name. Salvatore Giamatti, the missing city accountant. That moved Noir’s friend firmly into the “possible murderer” category. He wasn’t going to call her with this news. Better let this play out.
    â€œAny idea where the victim was before this?” he asked.
    â€œHe left about two p.m. that afternoon and came back like you see here on the tape,” Alvarez said.
    The guard showed him a logbook, which indeed had their victim signing out at two p.m.
    According to Noir’s information, that jibed with the time Salvatore had left his office. “They went to meet,” Al said. “Any guesses where?”
    The matched set of guards shook their heads in unison again.
    Al sighed. “Okay, Alvarez, grab that duffle and come with me.” He looked at the guards. “Thanks for the help, gentlemen.”
    The black guard cleared his throat. “I didn’t like him. Johns, I mean. I’m sorry he’s dead but he was kind of an asshole. He treated the kid who worked for him like a servant.”
    â€œAt least one person agreed with you or he wouldn’t be dead,” Al said.
    He left the security room, Alvarez at his side. “Where are we going, sir?”
    â€œThe parking lot to look over Johns’ car.”
    She looked away. “Um, I did walk out to it, sir. But it’s locked and I didn’t see the keys in his duffle.”
    Al grinned. “Feel up to a little lesson in grand theft auto, Officer Alvarez?”
    â€œIs that allowed, Captain?”
    â€œOh hell yes. So long as it solves the case.” He buttoned his coat and held the door open for her. “After you.”
    Huh. She might even have blushed at his exaggerated gesture. Noir said he was charming every now and then. He never knew when that was.

Chapter Six
    â€œI put in your anniversary as Salvatore’s password and it worked, Cassandra, but all the thumb drive shows me is a series of numbers. I can’t make sense of it.” Lucy sat back in the desk chair and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I thought I could sort it out.”
    â€œI