4. Chapter 4 The Great Gift Heist

Chapter 4: The Great Gift Heist

J oy

As I stride through the halls of the community center, I feel a little thrill that I’m much more comfortable here in the Zone than I was a few days ago. I must admit, the first time I passed two tall minotaurs in the hall, their horns practically scraping the ceiling and their loincloths leaving very little to the imagination, I questioned both my sanity and my judgment.

Now, though, I don’t bat an eye as I navigate the Integration Zone streets and this building, passing nagas with their beautiful, shimmering scales, and wolven with their menacing fangs and bushy tails. It feels… wonderful, inclusive. It’s just what I envisioned when I convinced the board of directors to open the event to Others—better communication and increased trust between the species.

My soaring mood is dashed the moment I approach the door to the auditorium we’re using.

“What do you mean, they’re gone? ” Grum’s growl is unmistakable. Lord knows I’ve heard it often enough since he was voluntold to help me. Only this is the angriest, scariest, snarliest tone I’ve heard yet.

“I’m telling you, Joy had this perfectly coordinated!” Marcy sounds on the verge of tears. “She organizes several toy donation drives in November. In addition to donations, she buys toys in bulk or on sale all year long and puts them in a storage facility because she doesn’t have room for them in her shop. We spent days boxing them up so they’d be ready for transporting to the Zone. This morning, my husband, Sam, offered to get a rental truck and bring the toys here.”

“And… what the heck happened to the toys?” Grum prods.

Bursting through the doors, I take in the scene. Grum’s face is a mask of fury as he scans the gym. Marcy looks like she wants to disappear into the floor.

“Sam had all the toys in the rental truck.” Her cheeks pinken and she looks embarrassed. “He had an appointment at a friend’s jewelry store, wanted to buy something for me. It was a surprise until this happened. He said he parked the truck near the store, locked it, and stepped away.”

“And…?” I ask.

“When he returned to the truck, it was gone.” Marcy faces me, her eyes wide with panic. “Joy, I’m so sorry.”

The world seems to tilt as the words echo and rearrange themselves in various orders until they make sense. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

“Stolen, I guess,” Marcy says lamely.

I picture the large yellow rental van, driving out of state with a year’s worth of presents in the back.

“Sam’s really sorry.”

“Really sorry,” Grum echoes bitterly, nostrils flaring. His amber eyes appear almost carnelian. I’m not sure if it’s because of the dim light, or due to his anger.

No. No, this can’t be happening. Not now. Not when there’s already so much pressure, so much riding on this event going off without a hitch.

“Are you sure?” I hear myself ask, even though it’s a stupid question. “Maybe… he forgot where he parked?” I’m so desperate I’m being ridiculous. I gaze longingly at the floor as if the mountain of presents will miraculously appear.

“They’re gone, Joy. I’m s—”

“Sorry. Yeah, she knows,” Grum interrupts harshly.

I cup my hand over my mouth as my mind races, trying to make sense of it all. Who would steal presents meant for children? And why?

“We have to find them,” I say, my voice sounding hollow. “We can’t let these kids down. This might be their only chance to experience a real Christmas. I’m sure I could figure something out if it wasn’t so close to the event, but I used all the cash donations we’ve collected throughout the year. I even raided my own—” Abruptly, I cut myself off, not wanting to admit that I support this event with more than blood, sweat, and tears. I abuse my credit card balance on tough years.

Grum snorts. “And how exactly do you propose we fix this? Go door to door asking if anyone’s seen a truckload of stolen toys?”

His sarcasm sparks something in me. Squaring my shoulders, I meet his gaze. “If that’s what it takes, yes. I’m not giving up, Grum. The children, needy children, are counting on us.”

For a moment, we stare at each other, neither willing to back down.

“I know down to the penny how many toys were stolen. $12,023.45. That’s a lot of Christmas joy that’s been stolen from these deserving children.”

To my surprise, Grum’s expression changes. Perhaps it’s the size of the theft, or maybe there’s a part of him that deep down doesn’t want to disappoint a bunch of kids.

“Well.” His face fills with purpose as he cracks his knuckles, “I suppose a wild goose chase beats hanging tinsel. Where do we start?”

A wave of relief washes over me. We might be an unlikely team, but with Grum’s strength and my determination, those presents won’t be gone for long… I hope.

“First,” I say, already planning our next move, “I’ll call the rental company and see if they have LoJack, maybe the GPS system can pinpoint the truck’s location.”

Marcy looks at her phone and says, “Sam just texted. The truck was parked at 5600 Hollywood Boulevard. He says he’s sorry, maybe he stayed in the jewelry store a little too long.”

Grum snorts, but I try to cover the sound by saying, “Marcy, I need you to stay here and keep decorating.”

I pause, my hand on my chin as I make mental notes of what else we need to address.

“We could really use all those volunteers about now.” It takes all my self-control not to look accusingly at Grum.

“I’ve got an idea.”

Is it my imagination or does his voice sound different? He sounds… helpful.

“Yes?”

“We Others have what we call the Grandmother Grapevine. It worked back on An’Wa where we didn’t have telephones. We’ve just updated the system here on Earth. The elders use phones and in ten minutes, every person in the Zone will receive a call.” He puts up one finger and gives me a reassuring… well, it’s not a smile, exactly, but close. “You want volunteers? You’ll get some volunteers.”

“Great idea, Grum. Marcy, when the volunteers arrive, keep them happy. Let them listen to whatever music they want, to hell with the ugly sweaters, and heck, buy them all the pizza they want. Don’t worry. I’ll reimburse you. If, I mean when , we find the toys, I want this auditorium to radiate Christmas joy. I don’t want unhappy helpers.”

I call the police, who tell me this isn’t a priority call, but they’ll have someone take a report within the next 48 hours. Ugh. Two days? My tax dollars at work.

I dial the rental agency and endure not only perma-hold, but a phone representative who has exceeded her Peter Principle—and exceeds my patience. Finally, I feel like I’ve found a needle in the haystack.

“Got it!” I crow when I end the call. “The LoJack indicates the truck is parked not far from where Sam left it. We’ve got the address. And Grum, thanks for volunteering to come with me.”

He rolls his eyes, but I catch a glimmer of excitement there. “Lead the way, oh Tinsel Queen. Let’s go find those presents.”

“Marcy, you know as much as I do about this. Do you feel okay about giving the report… if the police decide to show up?”

“Yes. Anything you want. I’m really—”

“Sorry,” Grum mumbles.

“The list of all the toys is in my computer under ‘inventory’,” I call over my shoulder as we head toward the door.

Striding toward my car, I’m filled with optimism. We’re going to solve this mystery, save Christmas for these kids, and maybe bring our two communities a little closer together.

After all, isn’t that what the holiday spirit is all about?