The Santa Scoop

By Brooke Baxter

Memorial Summit Mall might not have a Santa this Christmas and journalist Sam Sanders is reluctantly investigating. Richard, her Christmas obsessed editor, assigned the story and she really needs to keep this job. As one interview leads to another, Sam gets closer to the true identity of Santa Claus and proof he actually exists. An anonymous letter, an invitation to a secret Santa association, and an unlikely friendship with the big man himself, lead Sam on a wild Christmas adventure that ends with an interesting alliance that just might save the Memorial Summit Mall Santa, and mall Santas everywhere.
 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brooke Baxter
• Release date: Nov 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215885536

Brooke Baxter

Brooke Baxter is obsessed with Christmas and lives in South Texas with a family who isn’t. She is an avid Christmas movie watcher, and when she isn’t creating the perfect boyfriend for a wholesome holiday romance, she is trying new coffee shops in search of the perfect cup of coffee.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Thump, thump, thump. Sam felt the steady rhythm of her feet hitting the neighborhood street.

She picked up the pace and turned left from her street, running across the bridge to the trail, leash in her gloved hand.

Ace, quit pulling! she scolded.

She readjusted the leash and settled into a steady stride.

Good boy, she said, encouraging him to stay at this pace. They continued around the lake in record time.

Home, she grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and checked Ace’s water dish.

Ace, you’re making a mess. She wiped the floor with a dish towel.

Ace didn’t turn at the sound of his name, instead heading for his nap cushion in the living room.

Go ahead, I guess you earned a nap after a good run. Sam guzzled her own water.

Checking her messages, she was excited to hear Rebecca’s voice. They had been best friends since college. Both journalism majors, they spent most of their time in school working hard and dreaming of the amazing stories they would cover. Rebecca, a writer for a travel magazine, traveled all over the world and was rarely in one place for long. She stayed with Sam between assignments, unless she was visiting family. Rebecca hadn’t had her own place in a few years, and stashed her things between her parents, sister, and Sam’s attic.

They always kept in touch. Sam never wanted to travel the globe, so writing for a local magazine in a mid-sized city was a great fit. She didn’t have to learn any new languages or how to convert to foreign currency.

Hey, it’s me. I have an extra week before my next trip. I’d like to come by for a few days. I have a flight booked for Thursday, arriving at 4:30 p.m. Can you pick me up, or should I rent a car? Let me know.

Sam left a message to confirm it was great timing, and she was excited to see her friend for an unexpected visit.

After a quick shower, she spent the rest of the day catching up on laundry and other chores to prepare for the week ahead. Satisfied that everything was in its place, Sam settled onto her sofa with a cup of peppermint tea, a cozy blanket, and her journal. She had written some interesting articles lately. There had been the new hospital addition, a Merit Scholar from the high school, a local artist who had made decorations for the White House Christmas tree, a baby giraffe born at the zoo, and a Girl Scout from their community who had sold more cookies than any other in the entire country.

There had also been a fair amount of tragedy and scandal. It turned out that part of the new elementary school had been built on what was once a dump and now part of it was sinking. A city councilman was caught taking bribes from the developers of a new shopping and entertainment district, and a high-profile physician was found practicing without a license.

The magazine only put out one issue a month and was filled with both the tragedy and triumph of the community.

For as long as she could remember, she wanted to be a journalist, a proper journalist, and had pursued that goal relentlessly.

Her uncle had written for a large newspaper. He covered national, and sometimes international, news stories. When he was in town, which was not that often, he had the most incredible stories. She would run home from school, arriving sweaty and out of breath, to tell him all about her day. Over a snack, she’d describe her day using the five W’s: Who, What, Where, When, and Why. Her journey to the magazine started as a little girl, interested in everything around her, wanting to share what she learned with the world.

She was on the newspaper staff in middle and high school, becoming editor her senior year. Never one to gossip or revel in the destruction of others, she stayed clear of those kinds of stories. Instead, she tried to highlight the accomplishments of her fellow students and those who worked at the school.

Sam continued her quest to become an actual writer in college. Following in her uncle’s footsteps, she found a program that would give her practical experience in all aspects of print journalism.

She sipped her tea and wrote the date at the top of the page and paused, tapping the pen against the journal’s edge, and tried to think of fresh story ideas to pitch at the staff meeting.

Ace, think groundbreaking, interesting. Pulitzer worthy.

Ace pushed himself up, and standing on all fours, stretched so that his tail was up in the air high above his head. Then he pushed up on his front legs, stretching his back legs. Sauntering across the room, he stopped at his toy basket and pulled out a rubber bone. He dropped it at Sam’s feet and looked up at her expectantly.

She dutifully tossed it across the room. Ace bounded over furniture, retrieving the bone, and brought it back.

Okay, one more time. She picked it up and gave it another toss before wiping the dog slobber onto her jeans. Ace returned, ready to go again.

I don’t have time for this. I really need to concentrate.

But Ace was insistent and kept nudging her foot, wanting attention.

All right, maybe some fresh air will do us both good. Sam put on her shoes and grabbed the leash by the door. Let’s go!

They arrived at the dog park, and aside from just a few dogs and owners, they had the place to themselves.

Inside the gate, Sam was sure to close the latch. The park was a beautiful benefit to the community, and she had written an article about it when it was announced and opened to the public.

Sam brought Ace to the park a few times a week and was surprised at how underutilized it was during the day. Maybe an article about the under-used places and facilities in our community to remind people of the opportunities available to them in their own backyards? Once she was sure that Ace wasn’t getting into trouble, she pulled her journal out of her bag to make a few quick notes.

Ace, finally tired of chasing the other dogs in the park, came to the bench where Sam sat, writing.

Hey boy, ready to play? She fished a Frisbee from the front pocket of her backpack and stood.

She extended her arm, and a blur of green and yellow passed over Ace’s head and across the field. Ace took off like a shot, followed by the other dogs.

He got ahead of the pack and, jumping up, caught the Frisbee. Ace bolted back to her with his entourage close behind.

He obediently dropped the Frisbee at her feet and, panting, stood, ready to run again. Sam laughed and flung the Frisbee as far as she could, and off they went again. One by one, owners called their dogs to go home and thankfully, Ace wound down just before the park filled with afternoon patrons.

Leading Ace to a water fountain, Sam looked around. There were some familiar faces. She brought Ace several times a week, but her schedule wasn’t regimented. Her work often required her to keep strange hours, depending on the story, so she could observe how different crowds availed themselves of the same amenities at different times.

Do you know what goes on when you aren’t there? A kind of existential look at the different groups that use a place at different times. She made a mental note to add that to the list.

After drinking what seemed like gallons of fresh water, Ace backed away and came and sat at her feet, settling in for a nap.

No nap. Ready to go? She clipped his leash back on his collar.

Walking across the park, she noticed him—the old white-haired man with the Dachshund. She laughed. They were a sight: the large round man with a flowing white beard and hair, small round-framed glasses perched on his nose, and his tiny little sidekick.

He sat on a bench, enjoying a steaming cup of something, holding this tiny friend.

Hey there! How are you? his voice boomed as she walked closer to him.

Very well, thank you. And you? she answered politely.

Quite well.

Who do you have here? She reached out to pet the little dog.

The dog yapped and snapped at her hand.

She drew back quickly, as the white-haired man explained, Watch out. She is feisty. Never wants anyone to get close. I don’t know what she experienced before she came to me.

I’m glad you’ve given her a home, Sam said.

Dasher, the white-haired man said as she took a step.

What?

Dasher. Her name is Dasher.

Like the reindeer? Sam asked.

Yes. Who is this? The man reached over to give Ace a scratch behind the ears.

Ace.

Like a reporter? the man asked.

Yes, like a reporter. And I’m Sam. She extended her hand.

Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Frank. He shook her hand.

It’s nice to meet you, too, Sam said. I haven’t seen you here before.

We’re around most days, Frank said.

We don’t come at a set time, Sam said. My schedule isn’t consistent from day to day.

I don’t have a set schedule either. Dasher and I are free to go where the day takes us.

That must be nice. Sam smiled.

It is, Frank said.

Curiosity drew Sam to Frank, and she asked whether she could sit with him. While Ace and Dasher rested at their feet, they watched the dogs and their owners; Sam was suddenly not in a hurry to get home. They noticed the well-behaved dogs and pointed out the dogs who were clearly in charge of their owners. Sam didn’t notice the time passing until her stomach growled.

It’s getting late, and I better get home and feed Ace. She stood.

I heard your stomach. Frank laughed. You better feed yourself, too.

They shared a chuckle, and Sam picked up her things.

I hope you enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Sam turned to leave.