Chapter 2

If there was a downside to serving as ‘Santa’ Tony Juliana’s “Carol Elf” during the Christmas season for Carol Riley it was that no matter how hard she worked or how fast, there were never enough hours in any given day to do all she needed to do and all she wanted to do. And although she tried not to consciously acknowledge it, her second year on the job was complicated even more by the fact that Tony himself was no longer able to do as much as he had the year before. He grew tired more quickly and needed more frequent rest, so rather than risk even the faintest dimming of the glimmer Christmas gave to his eyes, Carol had taken up the slack. She’d handled writing the notes for each of the fifteen hundred Christmas backpacks for the homeless they were distributing that year, as well as the selection of certain items the backpacks were to be stocked with. She’d hoped that by taking some of the load off of Tony, he’d be rested enough to make all of the concerts and performances he’d marked on the large calendar he kept in his den.

As she slumped back into the limo seat in near-exhaustion, the last of the backpack deliveries done, she was happy that she’d achieved that goal. Not one item on the calendar had been missed, although they’d both frequently been asleep in the limo within minutes of leaving a venue. But at last her work was done and as she felt herself pulled into the thin, but still strong, arms of her Tony she put her head against his chest, reassured as always by the steady beat of his heart. She had just a short time to wait while he went to midnight Mass with his family, and then they’d make their pilgrimage to somewhere with snow. She still had no idea where they were going, and that was fine with her. As long as she and Tony were together, she’d be happy. She was asleep before the limo made it to Saint Mary Cathedral.

“Donnie, a little help here,” Tony said as the limo pulled to a stop.

Donnie Cretossi leaned over and with gentleness few who knew him would have believed him capable of, took the sleeping young woman in her cute red and green elf costume off of his employer.

“Got her, Mr. Tony,” he said, carefully placing her in the corner of the seat.

“Alright, time to go be hypocritical,” the dapper old man in his blue-black pinstripe suit said as he slowly slid out of the limo and headed for the church. “Take good care of her boys, she’s been very good and worked very hard this Christmas.”

“Which makes this Christmas different from any other time how, Mr. Tony?” Donnie murmured as the door closed, cutting off sound and the flow of cold air from the outside.

More backpacks had taken more time than Tony had allowed for, so he found himself slipping into place beside his wife, Francine, after the service had already started. The priest didn’t glare at him, knowing which side of the family donations to the church came from, but Francine did.

“So happy you could join us, Anthony,” she whispered. “What’s the matter, did your little whore make you lose track of time?”

Tony Juliana bit back all the words that wanted to come rushing out of his mouth, knowing that if he gave voice to any of them, he’d give voice to all of them, and at a volume that would fill the cathedral.

“Nothing to say, Anthony?” she goaded him.

“After Mass we will speak of this, and not before.” Tony turned and looked at her in a way he’d seldom looked at anyone who was still living. He gazed at his wife through the cold, dead eyes of a killer.

Wisely, Francine Juliana kept quiet and returned her attention to the Mass, no longer sure at all that she wanted to have the promised conversation at all.

When Mass was over and done, greetings and Christmas wishes exchanged with some of their friends as well as the priests and staff of the church, Tony handed his children their check-filled envelopes and watched them head off to their cars. He and Francine stood alone under a tree in the rectory courtyard.

“If you ever refer to my companion again, in any way, then Vic Philouma and the Catholic church be damned, Frannie, there will be a divorce and you will not like how it goes.”

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“Oh yes, I certainly would. I will never understand what went so terribly wrong between the two of us, and you will never understand what the young lady and I have.”

“Come now, Anthony, it’s just sex and her desire for a sugar daddy.”

“As I said, you will never understand. There is not a lot of sex, less all the time and there was not much at all to begin with. She is kind, she is good company and she has never asked me for a dime, nor does she expect to receive anything upon my passing.” He looked at the woman he’d married, unable to find more than a trace of the woman he’d loved. “Francine, be realistic ... at my age and with my health she is little more than a companion for me. She is someone with whom to attend all the shows and such that you found so tedious ... and she enjoys my company, which you found worse than tedious.”

Francine, feeling she was back on safer ground, snorted derisively. “A man your age, engaging in such foolishness ... accompanied by your thugs and such a tawdry little-” Her voice squeaked to halt. Once again she found herself staring into flat, seemingly soulless eyes.

In a part of his mind that Tony Juliana normally kept cordoned off far away from his daily thoughts and the people he cared for, he had examined, and discarded, three plans for killing her that would appear natural or accidental, even under intense scrutiny, and was considering a fourth that would seem just as innocent but involve a great deal of pain for her before she died.

“Now then, my dear,” Tony said, returning from his thoughts, “Here is your present.” He passed her an envelope. “You will never speak of her to me again. You are to go home now and feel superior, righteous, and quite probably lonely. I am going to go spend time with people who actually care for my company. Goodbye.”

Even a year before his stride would have seemed strong and decisive, but as he walked away his body betrayed him and he faltered noticeably, and behind him his wife smiled in satisfaction. Tony grimaced, ashamed of his body’s ever-more-frequent betrayals, knowing his wife was enjoying the most recent of them. Then his grimace changed to a smile as he reflected on the provisions of his will, and the speed with which he was dissipating the majority of his wealth.

Still, when he slid himself into the limo, there was no hiding his pain. His bodyguards knew the look and knew the cause.

“Boss,” Matteo said, “why do you do this to yourself?”

Tony quickly checked the sleeping Carol as he put a finger to his lips. “Not so loud, Matty ... these days I do it because she thinks it’s important. Otherwise...”

“Otherwise your life would be a lot simpler?” Donnie interjected.

As Tony thought about how disappointed Carol would be if she knew some of recent thoughts, he replied, “Incredibly simpler. Let’s get to the airport, I’m sure Mrs. Hood has everyone on board and is waiting impatiently.”

It hurt Tony Juliana deeply that he wasn’t able to lift his beloved companion and carry her on board the jet himself. He watched Donnie like a hawk as the large man took her in his arms and with more care than he would have used transporting eggs, carried her into the plane and deposited her in her seat.

As Tony cautiously buckled her in, he said, “Tell the pilot we’re ready ... by the time he has us rolling, we’ll all be belted in.”

Carol awoke when they were somewhere over New Mexico and through barely open eyes, lids heavy atop them, looked around her.

She could tell Tony was on her right, and felt, more than heard, his soft snores. Facing her across a small table was Donnie, pillow behind his head, mouth gaping open. She was glad for the engine noise as it muted the worst of Donnie’s snoring, a source of many jokes and not a little anger from time to time. Next to him sat Thomas, gazing out the window and sipping something hot, apparently lost in thought.

The flight attendant silently moved through the cabin, saw that Carol was at least semi-awake and knelt beside her.

“May I get you something, miss?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Carol replied as she shook her head slightly to clear it while she sat up straight. “Tommie, what’s that you’re having?”

“Coffee,” the bodyguard answered.

“Just coffee?” Carol asked, smiling.

“Alright already, it’s an Irish coffee,” he replied, smiling, “but I ain’t gonna call it that.”

“Ah,” the young woman replied. She looked at the flight attendant’s badge. “Well Sarah, I’ll have the same, except mine IS an Irish coffee ... moderately heavy on the Irish, with sugar and cream please.”

“Certainly Miss,” Sarah replied, grinning as she stood up and headed towards the galley.

Next to her, Tony began to stir slightly in his sleep, almost inaudible moans coming from deep in his throat. Carol’s hand slipped into his without thought, gently caressing his papery skin. She’d never discussed his nightmares with him, never felt the need to, even though she was extremely curious. If he didn’t broach the subject with her, it was not her task to ask ... her job was to soothe him, to make the bad dreams dissipate back into his subconscious, not to go prying. She glanced over and saw that while he was still in REM sleep, the moans had stopped and a slight smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

“Tommie, I don’t suppose I have anything to change into handy, do I?”

“Yeah, the boss has some stuff for you in a carry-on behind your seat.”

She carefully removed her hand from Tony’s and got up. She grabbed the luggage and headed back to the lavatory.

“If you touch my Irish coffee, Tommie, I’m gonna slap you upside your head,” she hissed at him in mock ferocity, a kitten threatening a full-grown tiger. He laughed quietly as she stumbled down the aisle towards the rear of the jet.

The rest of the flight passed quickly and before long the party was loaded into a pair of SUV’s and on the highway from Durango towards Pagosa Springs. In the headlights the gleam of snow was everywhere and Carol managed to stay awake all of fifteen minutes to enjoy it before she slumped back into slumber, curled up under Tony’s arm.

“Damn,” Andy whispered, “is there anywhere that girl can’t fall asleep?”

“Only one place I’ve found,” murmured Tony. His eyes widened at the implication, he started to speak but what came out was nothing more than a splutter and a blush moved up his face as he fought to regain his dignity. The chuckles from the others did nothing to help.

“Don’t worry, boss,” Danny said, “you’re still a complete gentleman ... we just got dirty minds.”

Tony glowered at them all as the SUV’s continued their journey through the pre-dawn blackness.

As they drove into sight of the lodge, Tony gently shook his companion awake.

“Look my dear, I do believe it’s Christmas.”

She rubbed her eyes and looked out through the front windshield as the wipers slowly whisked away the lightly falling snow. The building in the distance was tastefully decorated with white Christmas lights, and she found the effect magical – the large lodge transformed into a castle in the middle of the snowy wilderness.

“Tony, thank you. This is wonderful.”

She watched their destination grow closer as they wound their way through the snow-covered hills, held in Tony’s arms. Her Christmas was becoming truly fairytale-like.

That feeling lasted until they pulled up in front of the beautifully decorated lodge and she had to help Tony out of the SUV. He tried to motion her off but Andy, his usual driver, was on his other side providing rather less subtle assistance and he realized the futility of objections. With a sigh of begrudging acceptance, he allowed himself to be helped inside.

Carol had watched Tony like a hawk ever since he’d had problems getting out of the SUV. He wasn’t moving well and none of the jauntiness his step usually held was visible. He moved like an old, old man and that realization speared her chest, a huge icicle of fear and sorrow. She barely noticed anything about the lodge itself, and the staff, dressed in their Christmas best, only came to her attention when she asked about a Jacuzzi in their room as they were led toward the stairs.

“Yes ma’am, every suite has a large whirlpool bath,” replied their bellboy.

“Is our room upstairs?”

“Yes ma’am ... is there a problem?”

“Yes ... is there a suitable suite on the first floor?” she asked. Tony tried to protest but her hand found his mouth even when her attention was on the bellboy.

“Yes ma’am, let me arrange a switch,” the major domo answered from behind them, having no difficulty discerning the problem. “Sheila, we’re switching Mr. Juliana and Mr. Panucci. Make sure the luggage is delivered appropriately.”

He came into Carol’s view from her right, the solicitous expression on his face charmingly accented by his green vest and candy-cane-striped tie.

“My name is Mr. Heflin, if there is anything you or your party desires during your stay it will be my pleasure to provide.”

Luckily both Tony and Carol packed light, as there was little trouble rerouting their luggage from the second floor to the first. After their bags were delivered to the room and the bellman had given Carol the tour, she took Tony’s wallet and tipped him generously.

“Thank you, that will be all for this evening ... this morning, I mean,” she said, shooing him out the door.

Tony had sat on the sumptuous couch through the proceedings, tired and sick and damned weary of feeling that way.

“Now then,” Carol said, bustling up to him, “can you get into the bath with my help or am I going to need to call Mr. Hood?”

“You leave Ned out of this, I’ll make it into the bath on my own...” he paused, feeling reality sink in, “as long as you’re here to steady me.”

“Always Tony, for as long as you need me,” she replied, kneeling to remove his shoes and start the undressing process. “Now, as soon as I get these off, you take your time getting out of your coat – I have a bath to start.”

She had had to help him into the tub but he had hidden behind his dignity and she behind her love and so neither of them had spoken of it. She made him a cup of tea in their suite’s wet bar area, thankful for the small coffee maker. While he soaked and the tea steeped, she turned down the sheets on the king-sized bed. Once the tea was ready, she delivered it to him, slipping out of her clothes and into the bath in a flash, prepared to help him bathe.

“Angel,” he said after sipping his tea, “this is approaching the point of ridiculousness. Any man who needs help bathing-”

“Tony, you don’t need help bathing ... I’ve watched you do a perfectly good job when you were feeling worse than you are tonight. I didn’t help you those times because your attitude made it clear you’d rather I didn’t. Tonight, however, I’m brooking no arguments or attitude either – I’m helping you wash because it will make me happy – and after today I need a bath as well. It’d be a pity to waste all this water on just you.”

“You, my dear, are a smartass.”

“Why yes, sir, my ass is smart, as is the rest of me ... and it’s such a lovely ass, or so I’ve been told by those I trust.”

“It is indeed, Angel, it is indeed.”

She sat behind him in the tub after some rearranging, washing his hair as well as massaging his scalp, neck, face and shoulders. The accommodations were lovely and the bed was particularly inviting-looking, so she was trying her best not to hurry the procedure unduly in her desire to get Tony, and herself, to bed.

“Sir, I’m thinking we deserve to sleep in as late as we’d like this morning,” she said, stopping her efforts briefly to hug him, holding his frail body as tightly as she dared. “Shall I put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door?”

“Angel,” Tony sighed, enjoying the pampering immensely, “for what we’re paying for this week, you don’t have to tell them not to disturb us. We won’t be bothered until we put in an appearance. As for when that might be ... well, I have nothing on my schedule except checking out the local music scene and catering to your whims, and I feel sure you will be kind to this geriatric specimen where those are concerned.”

“Yes sir I shall,” she replied, using the hose and shower head to carefully rinse the shampoo from his hair. “I’m thinking today will consist of nothing more strenuous than dining well and celebrating Christmas with your staff. The next day, I shall, weather permitting, gallivant out into the snow – you are more than welcome to join me should you feel the urge. Sometime before we leave, I would love to see the nearby town, and do a little sightseeing in the area. Other than that, my whims are you and a warm fire. Sound doable?”

“Oh yes, Angel, very doable indeed.” He shifted and grabbed the rail, hauling himself out of the water. “Would you be so kind as to grab me a towel?” he asked, for a moment wracked by the memory of himself, young and strong and seemingly invincible, “I think it’s past my bedtime.”

Carol looked at the erection between his legs. “Yes sir, here’s your towel. However, I don’t think it’s past anything – and it definitely is Christmas. I’ve spotted me a candy-cane!”

Tony had been so wrapped up in the sybaritic pleasure of the bath that he hadn’t noticed the effect she was having on him. Still, even as tired as he was, erections were a rare and special gift.

“As long as you promise to take it easy on me, my dear Carol Elf, I think you might be right.”

The sex had been lovely – slow and careful, with an undeniable undercurrent of passion, limited only by Tony’s age. Carol had laid him down and made love to him ‘gently and good’. Afterwards, she’d cleaned him, helped him don his pajamas and then tucked him in, already asleep, giving him a kiss on the forehead before calling room service.

“I’m sorry to be a bother, she said, looking at the clock and realizing it was 5:30 AM local time, “but could I get a pot of hot cocoa sent to my room?”
“Certainly Madam, will there be anything else?”

“No, but please knock very softly when delivering it, Mr. Juliana is asleep, thank you so much.”

As she waited she looked at the lodge’s list of services. The spa’s offerings caught her eye and she determined that the day after Christmas, she was going in for the full treatment, spend the whole day at it. She didn’t think she’d have any problem talking Tony into availing himself of some of their procedures, and between her and Mr. Hood, Mrs. Hood could probably be argued into at least part of a day’s fun and relaxation. As for Tony’s boys ... well, all of them would probably like the massages, and would make use of the manicures, as Tony insisted on his associates looking like gentlemen, even though they were most definitely weren’t. But she was pretty sure they’d have no use for the facials, pedicures, or – she snickered to herself – the waxings.

After the soft knock at the door, she sipped her cocoa and stood at the door to the small balcony and peered out past the glow of the lodge’s Christmas lights into the darkness.

As always she’d wanted snow for Christmas, and this year, knowing her preferences, Tony had gone all out. He’d rented the entire eight-guestroom lodge for a whole week, made sure the staff was aware that most of his party weren’t into food that was too fancy or trendy, made sure the facilities were equipped for the kind of recreations his boys enjoyed – which were neatly covered by the bar and several pool tables. With the boys covered, he’d made it absolutely clear to Mr. & Mrs. Hood that they weren’t to lift a finger. They were to enjoy a week of pampering and time to spend however they wished. Carol had smiled when Mr. Hood revealed he planned to spend quite a bit of it sitting with his wife and rubbing her feet while they enjoyed the entertainment center in their suite.

As for her and Tony – well, nearby Pagosa Springs might or might not offer much in the way of concerts and music, but she was sure they’d find some no matter what. He’d also mentioned the possibility of visiting the Pagosa Springs Mineral Pools to see if they were actually as therapeutic as they claimed. Otherwise, most of the activities the lodge advertised were likely to be unavailable due to the time of year and those that were weren’t too feasible. She didn’t really fancy Tony trying anything too strenuous ... he was ninety years old and while overall he’d aged very gracefully, he was sick. That on top of his age made things like snowshoe hikes and cross-country skiing rather unworkable. They’d discussed snowmobile tours of the surrounding wilderness, but that would depend on whether he felt up to it - she’d already made it more than clear to him that she wouldn’t tolerate him doing anything he didn’t feel up to just for her - and by that point in their relationship, she was confident he knew she truly meant it. She’d have plenty of opportunities to play in the snow; which as a resident of their part of Texas was a rare and wondrous thing all on its own, and really all she required.

Well, snow and Tony...

Her cocoa finished, she crawled into bed with him, careful to not disturb him, giving him plenty of space to thrash about, as he was quite likely to do.

Less than an hour later she was awakened as Tony’s nightmares had him moving restlessly under the covers, murmuring unintelligibly, his voice full of pain and fear.

She’d learned in their time together that this was normal, this was to be expected. He didn’t want her waking him unless it got really bad. Carol always believed that this level of nightmare was bad enough to merit waking, but she did as he requested.

When he began to whimper and cry, tears rolling down his cheeks after they were squeezed from his eyes, it was time to wake him. Sliding her arms around his squirming form, she held him and softly whispered in his ear, “Tony, time to wake up, I’ve got you, you’re okay, time to wake up.”

After several recitations, his eyelids flickered open as his body stilled. “Sorry, Angel ... I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry, sir. This is part of what I’m here for. Don’t let it embarrass you. I’m happy to be here, happy to be able to help.”

“Precious one,” he murmured, “no one should be bothered by my sins coming back to haunt me, least of all an angel like you.”

“Now sir,” she replied, “you of all people should know just how far from angelic I can be.” She laid her leg over his groin and snuggled up to him closely. “Now why don’t you just relax, and drift back to sleep? Once that happens, I’ll back off, give you some room.”

“Should have given you your Christmas present when we got here last night,” he said, already easing back into drowsiness courtesy of Carol’s comforting presence. “You’d look lovely in any of them.”

As he drifted away, Carol held him, fighting back the tears his pain brought out of her and almost as an afterthought wondered what he’d meant.

She awakened to the smell of coffee and breakfast odors in abundance. Tony had the suite’s television tuned to one of the classical music channels available via satellite, playing very softly, and was sitting on the far side of the feast, waving the odors towards her with a sofa pillow.

“You sir,” she said as she rolled out of bed, pulling her over-sized t-shirt down and heading for the bathroom, “are a very silly man.”

His chuckles followed her as she toddled towards the toilet.

When she returned, much more awake than she had been, courtesy of a liberal application of cold water to her face she had to grin at the vision of a ninety-year-old mobster looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry, Angel, but I was getting hungry, and I was sure you’d be awake by the time the food got here, but you weren’t ... and I know how you hate cold breakfasts.”

“Oh, no problem sir, but just to warn you, I see a snowball in your future, when ... and where ... you’ll least expect it.”

“Fair enough. Now dig in.”

As they enjoyed their repast, Tony said, “I’m thinking that tomorrow we’ll go check out Pagosa Springs, see what there is to do, and how does a sleigh ride sound for the day after? That should be restful enough for me, after a day of stomping around in town. For now there’s breakfast, presents, and then we can amble out and enjoy some company for awhile. Sound good?”

“Soufs woferful,” Carol replied through a mouth full of fresh bagel.

After breakfast she discovered that in addition to snow, Tony had gotten her several sets of lounging pajamas – cotton, flannel and brushed silk – all of them lovely, all of them very comfortable. She might have had a problem deciding which to wear when they left the room, for she was determined to wear one of them, but in the end the unavoidable chill near the floor made up her mind in favor of the dark green flannel set, augmented by a pair of bright yellow socks.

“And here’s yours, sir,” she said, handing Tony a large vinyl record. “It’s a collection of Christmas music, performed by artists you’ve taken an interest in ... on vinyl, but with a CD copy as well so you could listen to it before we got home.”

As Tony immediately headed for the entertainment center to put the disc in the player, she continued. “I talked to Donnie about the idea, and he thought it was a good one, so I broached the subject with the performers.” She smiled, “They were all very enthusiastic, so we rented a little studio time and put it together.”

He turned back to his beloved companion, face stern. “There had better be Carol Riley vocals on at least some of these tracks,” he growled, “or I know a young lady who’s going to be very sorry there isn’t.”

“That’s about what Donnie thought you’d say, so I sang on some of the pieces,” she said, blushing deeply. “Quentin Collier hand-painted the cover and lettered the liner notes and such.”

“Where in the world did you find the technology to produce this?” he asked, fussing over the CD player’s controls.

“Oh, there are still places where you can make vinyl records,” she replied. “Lots of club DJs are using them these days ... in ways that you really don’t want to think about, but you can still get them made.”

“Well, how big of a production run did you do? I might want to buy some of these for friends and such,” Tony said as he started the disc playing and sat back down while “Gaudete” issued from the speakers.

“There is no production run, sir. The masters are back home, waiting to be put into your safety deposit box. This is a one of a kind, there are no other copies.”

As Tony looked at her she blushed again. “This is meant as a unique present for a unique man,” she said, averting her gaze to hide her tears. “No one wanted to make any profit on it. If you choose to release it in any form, we would be honored if any proceeds were donated to the charity of your choice.”

Before she could draw breath to say anything else, she found herself in Tony’s arms.

“Angel, in ninety years of Christmases, I can state beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’ve never received a more wonderful present,” he murmured into her hair. “Thank you, thank all of you so much. I feel a grand dinner for all involved in our future, once we’re back home.”

Still holding her, he moved slowly back to his chair and sat down, pulling her into his lap. “Now, which carols does my Carol carol?”

As she snuggled into his shoulder she murmured “That was so bad, sir – so very, very bad.” She kissed him. “But I’ll forgive you, this time.”

The lodge’s staff wasn’t quite used to the informality of their guests. No one had ever rented the entire place before, much less a group that lived together day in and day out. Their guests were all comfortable with each other and evidently expected the staff to quickly display the same level of ease.

Eyebrows rose when Carol came padding into the bar area in her ‘jammies’, and several comments were made by Tony’s bodyguards along the lines of “how’d you get her to wear pants?” While Tony blushed slightly, everyone else laughed and the bartender leaned over to ask Andy “I gather she doesn’t wear much around the house?”

Andy looked the bartender over carefully for any sign of a smirk. Finding none he replied, “Nah, she tends to wear long t-shirts. Never indecent or nothin’, everything always covered, just not what you’d call ‘formal’ wear.”

The bartender, as well as the rest of the staff, had already figured out the score and knew to be extra respectful when speaking about any of their guests – especially Mr. Juliana and his companion. They didn’t feel overtly threatened by any of the hard men that had come to their lodge, and due to Mr. Juliana’s influence they were all acting like complete gentlemen, but the staff wasn’t going to push their luck by taking any liberties either. Mr. Helfin had put it best.

“Let’s avoid giving these sharks any blood in the water, shall we?”

The rest of Christmas day passed quietly, visiting with each other and the rest of Tony’s odd household – driver, bodyguards, housekeeper, and valet - enjoying great food and luxurious surroundings courtesy of the lodge. Still feeling the effects of the pre-Christmas rush, Tony laid down for a nap in the late afternoon while Carol watched the never-ending games of pool between his men.