Santa's Naughty List

By Mary Lee Tiernan

Christmas is coming, and while Mahoney and the narrator tease each other about being on Santa’s naughty list, Mahoney is tracking down a ring of scammers who really belong on it. They are fleecing the public by taking advantage of the people's good-natured spirit of the season. They also threaten the narrator personally as part of their tactics. Meanwhile a feral cat disrupts the Mahoney household, and the ‘girls’ are helping a new arrival to Cedar Falls who was injured during a traffic accident. They discover that Lynne is running from a dark and dangerous past and needs more help than for an injured foot.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Lee Tiernan
• Release date: Jul 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370445783

Mary Lee Tiernan

I was born in New York, but the lure of open spaces brought me west, and I now call Arizona home. Throughout my professional life as an educator and newspaper editor, my passion has always been writing. My other passion is exploring all the West has to offer, and I am often RVing down the road with my cat Charlie.

Book preview

Santa’s Naughty List

by Mary Lee Tiernan

Copyright 2013 Mary Lee Tiernan

Mahoney and Me Mystery Series

Book 1 Stopping in Lonely Places

Book 2 Mahoney and Me

Book 3 Caught in Lies

Book 4 Santa’s Naughty List

Book 5 Broken Hearts, Broken Bodies

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Chapter 1

I sat at my desk working on revisions for the rough draft of my new novel. I put myself in the character’s place. What would her body be doing as she said those words? I tried different gestures. Body language reveals more about a character’s state of mind than words do which is why profilers study the art of interpreting it.

The real world was on some distant planet, so when the phone rang, I jumped. Heart be still. I looked at the phone screen before I answered.

Hi, Molly. Molly’s a good friend.

Are you at your computer? she asked.

I am.

Go to your Facebook page.

I quickly pressed the ‘save’ button on my document before I called up the Internet. I don’t put a lot of personal information on my Face page, so I didn’t understand the urgency in Molly’s voice. What’s the…

My page appeared on the computer screen. Oh my God! I was so startled I dropped the phone. Luckily, it dropped into my lap rather than smashing on the floor. I grabbed the phone.

Are you still there? I asked Molly.

I’m here. Better get it off the page.

I’m going to call Mahoney first…

At home, Mahoney is my husband, my prince charming, my best friend, and a great chef all rolled into one gorgeous package. At work, he’s Detective Mahoney.

…I want him to see it. I’ll call you back.

I hung up without even waiting for her to reply. My hands shook as I pressed speed dial.

What’s up? Mahoney asked.

Are you at your computer?

No. I’m walking back to my desk from the lieutenant’s office.

Get to your computer fast. Look up my Face page, and call me back.

Now he heard the urgency in my voice. He didn’t wait for a reply either.

I sat there gawking at the computer screen in disbelief. What filth! Dorsey—that’s my dog—came over, rested his head on my knee, and whimpered. What’s wrong, Mom? I absentmindedly stroked his head.

The phone again. Mahoney this time.

Are you okay?

No, I’m not okay. How can I be okay? How can I look at that… My voice cracked.

Someone had taken the photo I use on Facebook and superimposed my face on a female body in the throes of very explicit sexual interaction. What made it worse, if it could be any worse, was the person had so expertly altered the photo that it didn’t look doctored at all.

I’m glad you called me before you deleted it. I’m on my way to the computer tech as we speak. I… Frank, I’ve got a problem. I need you to call up a Face page. Mahoney gave him the needed information.

I heard Frank typing in the background. Oh my God! That seemed to be the standard reaction.

Can you download it, delete it, and trace where it came from? Mahoney asked.

Not in that order, Frank said. I’ll have to try a trace before I delete it. What’s her password?

I told Mahoney who repeated it to Frank. I drummed my fingers on the desktop while I waited.

This may take a while; whoever did this was good. Hacked past the security measures and covered his tracks. Let me get back to you when I find something, Frank said.

How long will that photo be up there? Mahoney asked.

I can take the page offline while I work. I’ll do that right now. More typing.

I watched my computer screen. My page dissolved to black and a message appeared. Page temporarily unavailable. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Do you need me to come home? Mahoney asked.

No. Now that the photo is gone, I feel better. Thank Frank for getting it off there.

I heard Mahoney thanking Frank, a door opening and closing, and Mahoney’s footsteps walking down the hall.

Sure you’re okay?

Just better. I won’t be okay until we find out who did this and make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Do you know how long the photo was up there?

I posted an announcement two days ago, a ‘coming soon’ notice on my new book. So sometime between now and then. Molly saw the photo and called me.

Oops, Molly. I better call her back.

You call if you want me to come home. Otherwise, I’ll see you tonight. Should be home on time.

Mahoney’s ‘on time’ depended on being assigned a new case or developments or lack thereof in an on-going investigation. He rarely sticks to his Monday through Friday, 9 to 5 hours. He can’t. Criminals don’t follow the workday rules.

I closed out of Facebook and switched back to my Word document. All the energy and flow of ideas had disappeared. I stared at a half-written sentence and couldn’t remember what I intended to say.

Okay, fine, I said to the computer and commenced shutting it down. None too gently either.

Dorsey, who had settled down next to me, sat up. He looked up at the computer and growled. My sentiments exactly.

It’s okay, boy, I said to him and ruffled his head.

I wandered over to a reading chair. Settling into its comfortable, soft cushions, I picked up a novel I was reading. Dorsey followed me and curled up at my feet. But after reading the same page three times and having no idea what it said, I banged the book shut and put it back on the side table.

Dorsey uncurled himself and sat up.

What is it with me? I asked him. I never used to have all this stuff happen to me.

Mahoney calls me a trouble magnet. On my last book signing tour, a maniac tried to kill me. That’s how I met Mahoney; he was the detective assigned to my case. Actually, that’s when I met Dorsey too. He intervened and saved me from the maniac’s first attack. That should have been enough grief for a lifetime. But, no. A woman infatuated with Mahoney tried to get rid of me; her boyfriend went after Mahoney. Then I heard a murder taking place. Now this.

I stood up and started pacing. I had absolutely no idea why someone would turn me into a porn star. I’m a writer. Successful, yes, but not so high on the charts that I’d make another writer jealous. I lead a quiet life. I’m not out and about competing with other people or making waves over issues or involving myself in organizations. I haven’t even lived here in Cedar Falls for long. Certainly not long enough to make enemies. How many people saw that picture before Molly called… Molly! I hadn’t called her back.

I walked over to my desk and picked up my cell. I told Molly that Frank was trying to trace who put the picture up and in the meantime took my Facebook page offline. Molly would know who Frank is. Her husband Bert is Mahoney’s partner.

And you’re probably pacing up and down and can’t take your mind off it, Molly said.

Well, yeah.

I’ll be over in 20 minutes. We’re going shopping.

Shopping?

I want to go out to the Crafts Mall to look at Christmas decorations. You told us at lunch that Mahoney doesn’t have any. So let’s go see what they have. It’s better than pacing up and down.

True, I thought. A distraction might be exactly what I need. I wasn’t going to get anything productive done anyway. Trust Molly to think of a way to help.

Since I had no idea how long we might be gone, I let Dorsey out to take care of business. We live on 10 acres of land, so Dorsey has plenty of room to run without being an annoyance to neighbors. As soon as I opened the door, he scampered out onto the front porch and down the steps to the yard. I was shutting the door when I saw him stop. He sniffed the air. Then he ran into the woods barking.

Oh, oh, I thought. This isn’t good. Our house sits back a distance from the street. Trees fill the yard in-between and provide privacy. At the moment, though, they were providing privacy for something—or someone—else. I couldn’t see what Dorsey was after. I only caught glimpses of Dorsey as he ran through the woods. Then I saw a flash of red between the trees. Yes, there it was again. Should I go after Dorsey or remain on the porch where I knew I was safe? I heard a car door slam and an engine roar to life.

Dorsey! I yelled, Dorsey! as I ran down the driveway. Oh, please God, don’t let him get too close to the car and get hit. Fewer trees to see through now. I saw a dark car—no, not a car, a pickup—pull out and race down the street. Dorsey? Dorsey?

He came bounding up the driveway toward me. I squatted down and let him run into my arms. Woof, woof. It’s okay, Mom, I chased him away.

I hugged him. I wasn’t thrilled that he had run off like that, but he was doing his job and protecting me. Good boy, I said.

We walked back to the house, although Dorsey detoured for a potty break. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to call Mahoney as Molly’s blue van pulled into the driveway. By the time he answered with his usual What’s up? Molly stood beside me on the porch.

Molly’s mouth dropped open as I told Mahoney what had happened. I added that Molly had just arrived because we were supposed to go shopping for Christmas decorations.

Should I go with Molly or stay here?

Go, he said. I’d rather have you out of there. Lock the house up tight. And will you check the side door to the garage to make sure I locked it? I’ll ride over and look around. Give me a call as you’re coming back home.

Chapter 2

You do have interesting days, Molly said as we climbed into her van.

I’d rather not. A dull day at home writing sounds good to me. Heck, I’d even go for a dull day cleaning. I glanced out the window, but with my mind preoccupied with porn and intruders, all I saw was a blur.

Why, Molly? What have I ever done…

Stop right there! Molly said. You have not done anything! Yes, you seem to get entangled in more predicaments than the average person, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. You went for a bicycle ride and heard a murder being committed. Now how in the world can you blame yourself for that?

I sighed. I can’t.

"Of course you can’t. Look at it this way. There’s a good chance Homer’s murderer might never have been