Cowabunga Christmas Read Online Free

hotel lobby. You two seemed to have had the
run of the place last night, so what do I know?”
    “The
Santa suit puts a whole new angle on ‘I’m going to cancel your Christmas,’
huh?” Brien was adorable, using his best gangster tone when speaking that line
from a movie. I loved it. I gave him a little wink.
    “Cute,
Moondoggie,” I said. Brien beamed. For some reason the detective couldn’t take
any more.
    “I
already told you two not to go anywhere, didn’t I? As much as I would like to
avoid it, I may need to talk to you again.” He stomped off with his shoulders
hunched and hit the button to call the elevator.
    “We’re
on our honeymoon—ten more glorious days, so we’re not going anywhere,” I called
out loudly as he hit the elevator button a few more times. Under my breath I
added, “And not the least bit thrilled about spending any more of that time
with you either, Buddy.”
    “Let’s
take the stairs, Brien. I feel like Detective Mitchum could use some alone time.”
On our way down six flights of stairs it struck me. One way not to have to deal
with the miserable, intrusive detective was to get this over with. Brien and I needed
to figure out who killed Santa.
     
     
     
     

4 The Sanctuary
     
     
    B rien
and I began a thorough reconnaissance of the pool and hot tub area on the club
level terrace of the Sanctuary Resort Hotel & Spa. Entering through the
ornate wrought iron gate that Brien had climbed in the dark, I had new respect
for his athleticism given its height and spiky top. He had navigated up and over
it with agility and speed. It was open, today, although not a soul was in the area.
That could have to do with the fact that the beautifully-tiled pool was still
being refilled.
    “They
must have drained it once the police were done here, Brien.” I whispered. I
wasn’t sure why whispering felt appropriate. “If the police cordoned off the
pool area with crime scene tape you’d never know it now, would you?”
    “I
don’t think that would be good for the ambivalence at a primo place like this.”
Don’t ask me how, but I knew what he meant.
    “Not
good for the ambiance , Brien. You are so right. Crime scene tape does
not send out that sanctuary vibe does it?” As if on cue, the sound of bells
pealed—the tower at a monastery on the cliffs overlooking the cove signaled
arrival of the noon hour.
    The
Sanctuary at Corsario Cove is an exquisite luxury resort we had chosen as our
honeymoon destination for several reasons. The stunning cove was one of them.
From what I read, the resort is a big draw to the cove area and the nearby town
of San Albinus. High-end clients that stay at the resort, and tourists drawn to
the Old Town at the center of San Albinus, drop tons of money in the area. The
village has a quaint old California feel to it. Eateries, boutiques, galleries
and souvenir shops line both sides of a cobblestone promenade with a chapel at
one end.
    The
chapel is real, and so is part of the promenade. Both are remnants of a hacienda
that once belonged to a large landowner during Spanish rule. The town had recently
enlarged the chapel to make it a picturesque place for ‘destination weddings.’
They had added to the promenade over the years, too, so that it now ran from
one end of the village to the other. Pleasant, in a Disneyesque sort of way, from
the photos I’d seen. We hadn’t visited the Old Town area yet, or set foot down in
the gorgeous cove, either.
    Elements
of a Spanish motif figured prominently in the design of the resort, rooting it
in the history of the area. The owner of the hacienda held huge parcels of lands
that ran down the sloping hillside to the cove. Upon his death, he had gifted
his holdings to monks. During his lifetime he had allowed them to build a real sanctuary
on his lands. The monastery still sat there overlooking the sea, the bell tower
poking up from amid woods that surround it. It’s from that old sanctuary that
the resort took its