The Christmas Thief

As I opened up the heavy oak door, I deeply inhaled the crisp clean air. During the wintertime it always had a clear, fresh quality that I delightedly relished in. Lily white snow was softly falling, decorating the landscape of lush shrubbery, tall trees and brownish-green grass.

In just a few days it would be Christmas. I looked so forward to the holiday which celebrated the birth of the baby Jesus. The idea that God cared so much about humans that He would send His own son to save us really touched my heart.

I stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door, tugging my coat tighter about me. Surveying the scenery and noting that nothing was amiss, I relaxed a bit. Rumors were circulating around regarding the mischievous crook, dubbed the Christmas thief.

Not much was known about the stealthy shadowy figure, except his name, Maurice Ragsdale. He appeared to have no past that anyone was aware of. He broke into the homes of the wealthy and middle-class, searching for valuable loot. Police had him in custody for a while. But recently he’d escaped and resumed his shady business of burglarizing unsuspecting domains.

 I traversed the length of the porch and shivered slightly from the cold temperatures. Turning to the steps, I made my way down to the lawn and traipsed through the snow. Ever since the news reports indicated the burglar’s flee from justice, I regularly checked the perimeter of my house. The word was that he was lurking somewhere within a 5-mile radius, dressed up as Santa Claus.

Naturally, my concern was he’d choose to target my residence. Although I lived in a modest, one-story farmhouse and made a meager income, I felt nervous I’d receive a visit from this character. Due to my grandparents’ will, I’d inherited priceless family heirlooms, a Faberge egg and Limoges China. Thus, it fell to me to protect these antique treasures.

After trudging along for a while and slowly encircling the property, I sighed with relief. Preparing to head back around to the front door, I suddenly stopped abruptly. On my previous trips, there had been only one set of footprints in the snow, my own. Now, I clearly saw the outline of shoes a few sizes larger than I wore. They appeared to lead to and from the heavily wooded area on the western side of the house.

Glancing over to the frosty-capped tree tops, I stared purposefully into the wilderness beyond. The only activity present was of birds and furry animals. Just when I decided to abandon my search for intruders, I saw a small movement. Peering deeper into the woods, I made out a red and white suit, along with black boots.

Upon closer inspection, I realized they belonged to a man trying to fade into the scenery around him. With this knowledge, I could feel fright mixed with anger welling up within me. So, I grabbed a stick of wood from a nearby wood stack and charged forward.

I rushed headlong into the wooded area and shouted,”Hey, you! Get out of here! Get off of my land now!”

At that, the white-bearded interloper spun an about-face. He tore off for the safety of the thicket in which he’d covertly immersed himself. He stopped only once when his Santa hat flew off. Bending down momentarily, he glanced back to gauge my advance, before continuing.

I gave a good chase to the fleeing bandit, coming closer and closer to his retreating back. Unfortunately, instead of focusing on my surroundings, I concentrated on him. This proved to be to my detriment. All of a sudden a willowy branch that I never saw coming, smacked me right in the face. Taken by surprise and temporarily stunned, I staggered backwards and wobbled uncertainly. Next thing I knew, my fanny was kissing the wet, icy ground below.

The Christmas thief paused to peer mockingly in my direction, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Ho! Ho! Ho! And away I go!” he yelled, taunting me.

Then he proudly strutted off like a rooster. But the joke was on him, for he ran right into a huge oak tree. I could tell it knocked him cuckoo because he froze instantly and dropped to the ground on his knees.

“Now who’s laughing, you jerk?” I challenged him defiantly, struggling to a sitting position. However, before I could hoist myself to my feet, he regained his senses and fled undaunted.

***

Once I made it back inside the house, I knew that something must be done about this incident. Chances were great on the odds this guy would return to attempt his thievery again. Luckily for me, I had ventured outside at the right time and caught him before he acted on his impulses.

Phoning my brother, Harris, who lived 200 miles away in the big city of Atlanta, I explained my dilemma. He’d already heard of the culprit stalking my area and grew immediately concerned. My welfare and the safekeeping of the heirlooms were of the utmost importance to him as well.

“Karen, I worry about you being out there on that isolated stretch of land. You really should consider moving out of that old farmhouse and coming to Atlanta,” he suggested.

“No way, Harris, I’m more than happy where I am. Besides, gramps and grams wanted us to keep their farm in the family. You know that just as well as I do.”

“Okay, there’s no use arguing with you. You’re too stubborn to listen anyway. Well, let’s figure out what to do about this little problem you’re having. I don’t want you to end up getting hurt.”

“He hasn’t harmed anyone so far, but you never know. I’m open to any ideas, bro. Actually, I’ll probably call the cops and have them search the premises. Not that it’ll do much good though,” I lamented.

“I wish I could come up for Christmas. I just have so much freaking paperwork to do. Anyhow, it’d take me hours to get there.” He grew quiet, obviously pondering the situation over and toying with a resolution.

“It’s too bad they can’t patrol the area regularly. Better yet, I wish an officer would stay with me until they catch this individual.”

Suddenly, Harris spoke up excitedly. “Karen, I know exactly what we should do. Do you remember my friend, Larry Hodges, the detective? You met him a few times at get-togethers. I think you might’ve gone out on a couple of dates with him, too.”

I perused the cobwebs of my mind, before a memory surfaced. “Oh, yes. I believe I recall going out to dinner with him a time or two. He was at some of the parties we attended. He seemed nice, but works a lot, from what he told me. That’s why he and I never pursued anything more. What about him?”

“He’s taken some time off for a two-week Christmas vacation. I’ll call him and discuss this matter. He lives an hour’s drive south of you. If he’s free, maybe he’d be willing to keep you company for a few days, until the thief is captured. What do you think of that?” he wondered.

I considered the suggestion, weighing the pros and cons involved. Hmmm. Me, all alone in the house for an indefinite period of time with a sexy detective. Not a tough decision to make. I mean, how could a warm-blooded, thirty-something young woman like me refuse such an offer?

“Sure, sounds good to me,” I agreed, deliberately masking my enthusiasm. “Why not ask him?”

***

Two hours later, I found myself reclining comfortably on the soft-cushioned sofa in the den with Larry. He smiled warmly at me and stood up to go throw another log on the fire. The room felt so nice and toasty. It was certainly enjoyable to have the assistance of a big, strong handsome man. I admired his dark brown eyes and raven hair shimmering in the flickering light.

He rejoined me, easing down slowly at the opposite end of the couch. We both nursed glasses of champagne, which added to the cozy atmosphere as it swirled inside my tummy. It grew harder for me to think of the unfortunate incident that took place earlier. My mind seemed intent on dwelling on the thirtyish, muscular man who regarded me from a slight distance. No doubt he was drawn to my flaming auburn hair and bright, blue eyes sparkling in the dim glow.

“Larry, I do appreciate your driving all the way up here to babysit me and my valuables. Thank you for being so thoughtful and considerate,” I told him.

“No problem, Miss Crawford. It isn’t that far of a drive and I’m glad to help out. It’s been a while since we’ve seen one another and it’s good to be here,” he replied.

“Call me Karen. We kind of know one another already.  And I’m so glad you were available to hang out here for a couple of days or so. Hopefully, they’ll nab that thieving scoundrel soon.”

“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time until they haul his tail back to prison. Anyway, I have plenty of free time on my hands and assisting a lady in need is my job. But, this is a freebie for you and Harris. Think of it as a favor. Now, I’ll need to know a little more about these items I’m protecting, please.”

Taking a leisurely sip of my Dom Perignon, I leaned forward and began to summarize the articles in question. “First of all, they are locked up tight in a safe. But, I can’t be sure that this villain won’t be able to figure out the combination and steal them from me. I hear Maurice Ragsdale is quiet adept at picking locks. He may also be skilled at cracking safes, too,” I mused.

Larry nodded and waited for me to continue with my description of the treasures I sought to hold onto. So, I delved into a brief history of the priceless antiquities.

“One of the heirlooms is a Faberge egg, which is part of a set of 69 jeweled eggs made by Peter Carl Faberge and his assistants. These eggs are custom made of precious metals or hard stones and are decorated with combinations of enamel and gemstones. Each individual egg is unique and the designs include a surprise on the inside.  They are connected with the last days of the Romanov Dynasty and were created between 1885 and 1917. They are used for decorative art.”

Larry listened with interest, apparently fascinated by the historical significance associated with my opulent possessions. I moved on to my other valued collection. “The second piece is actually a set of 20 Limoges China collectibles. They’re made of fine bone porcelain, which dates back to the late 18th century. Obviously, the Faberge egg is worth considerably more than the Limoges China, but both are dear to me. They were very precious to my grandparents who left them to Harris and I. He entrusted me with their safe-keeping.”

Larry flashed an understanding grin in my direction. “Don’t worry, Karen. I’ll help you see after them.”

“Thanks, I’m sure between the two of us, they’ll remain here where they belong,” I pronounced. As my eyes darted about the room, I noted that my Christmas decorations were still scattered and unfinished. I mentioned this fact to my detective friend.

“Say no more. I’m more than happy to lend a hand.” He rose to a standing position and offered me his palm. I accepted gratefully and he gently, yet playfully tugged me upwards to his side. We immediately took on the task of finding a place for the ornaments and decor on our first night together.

***

On the second day, Larry and I finished up with the decorations and spent most of the day outside. We had a snowball fight, made snow angels and built a snowman together. Having him over was proving to be a wonderful experience for both of us. I began to regret that we hadn’t thought of it sooner.

Later that night, we took two steaming mugs of hot chocolate into the den and sat down in front of the fireplace. The heat emanating from the hearth knocked the chill out of the air and spread throughout our bones delightfully.

I reached over to flip on the radio, sending some soft Christmas tunes spilling into the room. As we sipped on our scalding brew, we alternated between gazing into the fire and peering at one another. Every time our eyes met, there was a distinct sense of mutual attraction radiating back and forth amongst us.

With a serious expression, Larry watched me intently. “Karen, I was just thinking about a couple of years ago. You and I went out a few times, yet nothing ever came of it. What do you suppose happened?”

“I really don’t know. We seemed to get along well and we had good times together. All I can guess is maybe our work schedules were in conflict. That’s what I seem to recall.”

He seemed to consider my statement for a moment. “You know, I believe you’re right. At the time, I was on call twenty-four seven. It didn’t allow much room for dating or a relationship,” he surmised. “I’m sorry about that. I do have more time off now though.”

“Wonderful! I’m sure you need a break sometimes. And if you find someone special, you’ll be able to see them more often,” I added.

Once we’d finished our cocoa, I suggested we check on the safe. After ascertaining that it hadn’t been tampered with, I opened it up and presented the contents to him. He examined each item carefully, as he made notations in a small notepad, to inventory each piece.

***

Day three brought more adventures out in the crisp air and milky white drift. We conducted a search through the woods, in the vicinity of where I’d encountered the Christmas thief. The ground seemed relatively undisturbed. Either the guilty culprit moved on elsewhere or he just hadn’t returned as of yet. Possibly he still lurked around undetected and the snow simply covered up his tracks. It was my hope that he’d never show his face around here again.

Returning to the house, we dug out an old sled stored in the crawlspace and took turns pulling each other along in the yard. This resulted in peals of laughter resounding from both of us. Silently, I realized my home had seemed so empty and lonely before Larry arrived. I just didn’t notice it before.

He brought a new vitality, a refreshing energy to my humble dwelling. It was funny how I’d failed to recognize the potential, as well as the magic that existed between us. Perhaps he missed out on the connection we shared, too. Or maybe it just wasn’t as evident back then as it was now.

Later that night after our evening meal, we grabbed two thick blankets, along with our mugs and refilled them. The snow fell heavily outside, blanketing the earth even more. We both desired a closer inspection of this breathtaking event, so we ventured onto the front porch to recline in the porch swing.

I stared at the white frosting floating downward from the sky for several minutes. Soon, I found my gaze drawn irresistibly toward Larry, only to find he was looking at me also.

“I just love it out here. The snow is so beautiful!” I remarked wondrously.

“Yes, it is a gorgeous sight to behold, just like you are. I can’t decide whether you are more radiant in the moonlight or the sunlight, the firelight or the candlelight. I think it’s a tie for all four,” he decided.

His charming words took me by surprise. No one had ever spoken to me in such a way before. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say in response. “Thank you. You are very handsome yourself,” I managed to reply.

I could feel my cheeks flushing with a redness I hoped he didn’t notice. The feeling stirred within me that perhaps we were kindred spirits, even soul mates. But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself by presuming anything so romantic.

***

On the fourth day, we frolicked and played in the snow once again. As dusk drew near, we made our way inside and changed into more comfortable clothing. After sauntering into the kitchen, we jointly prepared a meal, as we had the three previous nights. Tonight we would be having a roast with vegetables and hot rolls.

I peeled carrots, potatoes and onions, while Larry sliced meat and then buttered the rolls. Soon, a pleasant aroma wafted throughout the house. My stomach growled in hunger when I caught a whiff of the roast cooking in the oven. I rubbed my hands on my apron and started preparing sweet tea.

Larry stood by the stove, periodically checking on our dinner. Suddenly he stiffened and rose up to his full height. “Did you hear that noise?” he asked in a whispery tone.

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t hear anything. What was it?”

He motioned for me to follow him quietly through the doorway and into the front room. It was hard to see anything because darkness had settled. Inadvertently, we’d neglected to turn on the lights in some of the other rooms. The window directly beside the door was open, the curtains billowing in the icy wind. But, it was supposed to be closed and securely locked.

I glanced around as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, my heart pounding with excitement. I didn’t know what to expect. All at once a dark figure dressed in what appeared to be a Santa suit made a mad dash for the window.

Larry lurched forward and yelled, “Oh no, you don’t! Stop right there, pal!”

The man wearing the red and white costume kept making for the only exit in sight, as Larry grabbed at him. It was to no avail, for the thief side-stepped the tackle attempt and continued advancing. My poor detective missed by inches and grasped at thin air. This threw him off balance and sent him toppling forward, landing right on his knees in the middle of the living room floor.

By now, I was ticked off at this mischievous Santa impostor. I quickly fetched a fly swatter from a nearby table. Just as he tried to ease back out the same window he’d entered from, I caught up to him and lashed out at his rump with whacks. “Take that, you bumbling idiot!” I screamed at him. “You stay away from my house, do you hear me?”

 I threw the fly swatter down and grasped at his clothing as he kicked and slipped through the window. He slid easily from my grip and glanced back triumphantly with a laugh. “Ho! Ho! Ho! And away I go!” he bragged confidently.

Just then, a loose nail on the edge of the windowsill caught hold of his red pants and ripped a large hole in the seam, down the middle. I could see the white of his underwear exposed. “Woo hoo! It’s cold out here!” he exclaimed in surprise. He covered the opening with one hand and ran off down the driveway, like a wounded animal.

 I began to chuckle hysterically over the play of events. I turned to face my hunky detective, who’d risen to his feet. He followed my cue and threw his head backwards, roaring with unbridled laughter.

***

The fifth day brought us into the enchanting hours of Christmas Eve. Since I had no close neighbors to speak of, we couldn’t go out caroling. Leaving the house was out of the question anyway, with that thieving rascal hovering around, just waiting for a golden opportunity.

Instead, we chose to sit around the Christmas tree and sing festive, merry songs. It was such a blissful sense of joy and cheer that I felt coming over me. Having Larry there with me for company brought out a brand new side of me I hadn’t been aware of.

We lounged side-by-side, sipping on spiced apple cider and munching on Christmas cookies. Between bites we continued to serenade one another and croon together harmoniously. Our sounds of merriment echoed along the cozy walls and resonated within each room of my happy home.

A couple of hours later, we traipsed through the snowy winter wonderland outside. Larry and I discussed the true reason for the season. The birth of Jesus Christ, God’s son, His present to the world for our salvation, was the greatest gift of love.

Again we inspected the ground for further signs of the Christmas thief. But the bountiful flurries already covered up all tracks of the uninvited guest from last night. One curious thing that puzzled me was how

Ragsdale managed to get inside the house, since everything was locked up tight.

Larry carefully examined the window the perpetrator used for his entry and subsequent getaway. The catch on the lock appeared loose and slightly bent. Evidently, a slim tool had been inserted into a gap in the windowpane, which he’d shaken until it came unclasped. This explained the mystery of the slick varmint’s intrusion. After all, he was known for being an expert lock-picker.

We fastened the lock as best we could and prayed it would hold. A close watch would just have to be kept on it for the next two nights, since local shops were closed. The day after Christmas, we’d be able to load up the valuables from the safe and head into town for repair supplies.

As the evening wore on, Larry and I began to formulate a plan to capture our little visitor. Should he return for another round, we’d be waiting for him. Hopefully we’d be able to nab him this time. Even if he managed to escape once more, we felt certain he’d decline to tangle with us again.

After a scrumptious meal of Greek meatballs, Greek lemon chicken and vegetables with pita bread, we retired to the den to watch some television. I put Larry in charge of the remote, since I knew that to be a man’s domain. He selected a sports channel, much to my feigned surprise. I suffered through it for an hour and he must’ve sensed this, so he handed the remote to me, with a grin.

With the coveted device in hand, I let out a triumphant victory cheer. I then chose a romantic comedy, blended with a touch of mystery. The irony of the movie genre, compared to our real-life escapades of the last few days, proved to be rather amusing. In the characters of the hero and heroine of the film, I couldn’t help but think of us in those roles, too. We’d been having more excitement and adventure than my usual day job of caterer ever provided on a daily basis.

***

Whenever the movie was finished, I suggested we make a palate of blankets and pillows on the floor, in front of the fireplace. He wore an undershirt and a pair of boxers. I was clad in a silky nightgown and housecoat. Our intentions were honorable and perfectly innocent. The goal was to remain in the den overnight, so we’d stand a better chance of nailing our adversary, if he tempted fate.

The fire felt so inviting, its warmth spreading throughout the room. The flames danced beautifully, casting shadows upon the walls, mesmerizing us with their flicker. I found myself spellbound, captivated by the images created within that glorious source of heat. I wondered if my companion felt the same way also.

I took a stealthy glance in his direction and saw him watching the lovely flames, as I had been. His gaze met mine and held it for a moment. Within his brown depths I recognized a spark of desire. Then a passionate awareness came over me that I longed for his kiss, his touch. I wanted it more strongly than anything else I could think of. It was plain to see he yearned for my caress just as much.

Larry slid across the blankets, coming closer to me, until we were almost touching. He reached out for the bottle of champagne on the coffee-table next to us. He poured me a glassful and one for himself. We shared a toast to the future and slowly sipped the bubbly liquid.   

I looked over at the assortment of goodies we’d placed alongside the ice bucket. Neatly sitting side-by-side were two small bowls, one with honey, the other with chocolate syrup. A can of whipped cream sat alongside a platter filled with grapes, pineapple rings, orange wedges, strawberries and cherries.

I selected a ripe strawberry, dipped it into the chocolate syrup and sprayed it with whipped cream. The flavor combination was very tasty. The thought that my friend would also enjoy it crossed my mind, so I prepared one for Larry and fed it to him.

“Mm, that’s good. Thank you,” he responded, licking his lips hungrily.

I felt an urgent need pulsating within me as I observed his actions. My hand made its way to the platter again, only to collide with his. Both of us were seeking luscious morsels to quell the appetites building inside of us.

He took a plump grape, dipped it in honey and covered it with whipped cream. Once he’d devoured it, he created one for me, too, pressing it to my lips. “Yummy. What a delectable treat!” I marveled.

The next thing I knew, Larry’s fingers were lightly caressing my face and running through my hair. He stared at me with an intensity that blazed hotter than the fire before us. “Karen, you are a gorgeous woman. I’m so glad to be with you,” he whispered.

“Thanks, you’re a very good-looking man. I’m happy you are here, too,” I purred breathlessly. Words failed me, as passion overcame my thoughts and reasoning.

“The way the firelight is reflected in your eyes,” he continued. “The glow of the reddish highlights in your hair makes you appear to be an angel.”

I gasped in surprise that someone would speak such romantic, chivalrous words to me. Without another word, I found myself entangled in his arms. Our warm lips melted into one, while our velvety tongues swirled together rhythmically.

The moment was magical, almost as if being caught up in a trance of our own design. Hands sought out thin material, fingers explored rapidly stiffening protrusions. Larry began to trail a path of kisses down my neck, arriving at my hardening tips, which he nuzzled through my wispy covering. I moaned softly and clutched at his thick head of hair, drawing him nearer. It seemed as though nothing could break the spell we were weaving or so I thought.

All of a sudden, a loud thud sounded in the front room. “Ouch! What in blazes?” someone yelped.

We both sprang apart, startled by the unexpected crash. It took a minute for me to clear my head, muddled as it was by desire. When I swept a glance over at Larry, I could tell he had the same problem.

Once the fog lifted from our brains, we raced into the other room to find out what caused the noisy disturbance. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this little dilemma out. There on the floor, just beyond the window next to the front door lay Santa Claus. Better yet, the cat burglar trussed up to pass himself off as jolly ole Saint Nick.

Whenever he saw us, he desperately tried to scramble up onto his feet. We could only stand there and watch him, open-mouthed. After several failed attempts, he finally managed to stand upright. He flashed us a cocky, challenging smile and lurched for the window. Obviously, he planned to exit the same way he’d entered, just as he had the night before.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! And away I go!” he yelled tauntingly at us. But at the precise moment he took a step forward, both his feet flew out from underneath him. Backwards he flew, with a thump and a bang. Apparently stunned, he paused for a second or two. “Yeeoow! That smarts!” he cried.

Regaining his sense of balance and equilibrium, the would-be jewel nabber slowly sat up. He rose to his haunches and gave it another go. For the next few minutes he treated us to a succession of repeat performances. Each time he stood and eased toward the window, he slipped and slid, sometimes landing backwards, sometimes falling forwards. We snickered and laughed at him, until we thought we’d bust a gut from such a thorough abdominal workout.

He continued this song-and-dance routine, before finally growing so tired he was unable to move another muscle. At that point, Larry carefully approached him, unsure what Ragsdale would do. He needn’t have been concerned, because the weary intruder simply lay there, in complete surrender.

Unbeknownst to our uninvited guest, Larry and I cleverly devised a trap for him. The unsuspecting cad fell right into it, literally, thereby finding himself ensnared. There were no means of making a clean getaway available to him, his options now quite limited.

Before Larry and I settled into the den, he had lain down a sheet of plastic and spread some grease all over it. This way, when Maurice slipped in the window, he’d land on his fanny every time he tried to get back out. We were at least considerate enough to place a padded mat underneath the plastic, to minimize the wounds sustained.

Once he’d checked for injuries and ascertained that none were serious, Larry began to fold the plastic. It soon encased the spent Santa imitator within a cocoon. “Well, looks like we’ve done gone and caught ourselves the Christmas thief,” he remarked matter-of-factly. “Games up, Ragsdale. I’m detective Larry Hodges and this is Karen Crawford, the lady you’ve been trying to rob. You’re going back to prison, pal, where you belong.”

He drug Maurice into the den and tied a long cord around him, where he couldn’t get loose. Then took a piece of duct tape and placed it over the culprit’s mouth. Satisfied the man was secured, Larry turned to regard me. I noticed a hint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He drug Maurice into the den and tied a long cord around him, where he couldn’t get loose. Then took a piece of duct tape and placed it over the culprit’s mouth. Satisfied the man was secured, Larry turned to regard me. I noticed a hint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He drug Maurice into the den and tied a long cord around him, where he couldn't get loose. Then took a piece of duct tape and placed it over the culprit's mouth. Satisfied the man was secured, Larry turned to regard me. I noticed a hint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Shall we call the police and have him arrested?" I asked.

"Yes, we will. But first, I have another idea," he informed me. His gaze traveled over to the fireplace and settled on the coffee-table ladled with delights.

"What did you have in mind?" I wondered. I had an inkling I knew what he was thinking and I enjoyed the naughty, wicked nature of the plan.

"Let's put on a show for this crook and entertain him a bit, since he interrupted our midnight rendezvous. That's what he gets for spoiling our special time together. Let him suffer with lust while he watches us making love," Larry suggested. "I've got a good notion about what we can do with all that food."

"Umm, sounds like a lovely idea. Why don't we?" I responded. "We can phone the police afterwards."

We propped Maurice up against the sofa and made our way to the blankets spread out upon the floor. While the thief who would be Santa eyed us ravenously, we each took turns sampling a delectable fruity feast. Only when we were fully satisfied from our sweet buffet, did we top it off with a grand finale. At long last, we collapsed into one another's arms totally satiated.

A couple of hours later, Ragsdale was safely whisked away into custody. Larry and I welcomed in a wonderful Christmas morning together. We missed the signals of true love a few years ago when we went out on a handful of dates. But this time, neither one of us could deny the inevitable truth. We’d found the one with whom we were meant to share our lives, thanks in part, to the Christmas thief.

***

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 26.12.2010

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