Our Christmas Darling gathered her surroundings after the phone call with her aging Mother. It was a jolt to the system even though she insisted that that chapter of her life was closed. It was time to start scanning for the next despicable person.

She exited her apartment, trotted down the staircase, waved at the adorable toddler playing in the common area, and walked to the corner store. It was a dilapidated building with a leaking roof and a significant ant problem, but it was the closest and most convenient for her.

She entered and no one batted an eye. A woman in a black hoodie, hair pulled back, jeans still stained with that delicious Pinot Noir just did not draw the attention of the group of men gathered around the video poker machine. As horned up as they may have been, she just was not appealing at the moment. That is exactly as she liked it.

The men were engaged in a majorly deep conversation about tits and asses and all the things they would do to them whether the fictional woman wanted it or not, "If the bitch isn't down, it's gonna be a rough ride for her." That was the clerk of all people. Go figure.

Attempting to disregard the conversation, Jennifer began scanning the newspaper rack as she mumbled, "Who is my next one?" She raised a finger to her lip as her brain entered deep thought while scanning the papers.

Well, she figured, at a buck a pop let us buy them all. There were six different papers all covering the same garbage, politics, sports, all that insignificant stuff that people stress themselves out over daily.

While scooping up a copy of each, something on the rack above the papers caught her eye. It was an unpopular magazine, you could tell from how stuffed the slot was holding it, and it contained the latest in crime and injustice just inside the cover. The cover was donning a handsome man, well-groomed labeled 'The Next Killer in San Diego.' Intriguing to say the least.

Jennifer snatched a copy of that publication as well and headed to the register.

The gaggle of clucking men broke up as she rudely interrupted the clerk with her purchase, or so he made it seem, "Ma'am, honey, are you okay?" He was pointing down at her pants, the pants that had the big red stain right on the crotch.

Pondering her options, she responded, "Oh, that? I collect the genitals of men that speak disgustingly about females constantly. Better watch out."

The clerk turned white as a ghost as the other men laughed and pointed at them, you know, like they were back in middle school. Nothing to be worried about here, that is what men do. They dream of these raunchy pornographic scenarios but cannot get more than a handy from the local meth head.

Jennifer added with a smirk, "If I hear you talking like that again, I might have to pull a Christmas Darling on you." With that she sauntered out of the store. Had she not been so full of herself because of what she said to the clerk, Jennifer would have noticed one of the men following her. This short-term stalker watched her as she retreated to the safety of the apartment.

With the confidence of a fat cat that had just snatched a bird midair, Jennifer settled down in her chair, the only chair in the whole place, and proceeded to peruse the newspapers she had just bought.

Before she could make it halfway through the first paper there was a hard rapid knock on her door. It was authoritative and meaningful. The type of knock you expect from someone with power.

Standing abruptly, startled at the sudden attack of the noise, Jennifer made her way to the door and squinted through the peephole. There, on her front stoop, stood two men in suits. The sun was shining just right that it made their badges glimmer. This could be quite the problem.

Taking a deep controlled breath, she opened the door as casually as possible, "Good morning gentlemen, how can I help you?"

One of the detectives smiled as the other recoiled as if he were inconvenienced by this little trip. The polite detective was very clean cut, shirt tucked in, tie straight with an excellent Windsor knot. The other one, he obviously did not give a damn about his appearance. His gun was out in the open for all to see, his badge was crooked as his teeth, and his hair, god his hair, was something you see after a severe electric shock.

With an outstretched hand, the 'I take my job seriously because I have my shit together' detective started, "Good morning ma'am. I just need a moment of your time to clear something up, is that alright with you?"

With her jaw still stuck to the floor, Jennifer motioned the detectives into her apartment, "By all means gentlemen."

The detectives entered and performed their typical ritual of scanning their surroundings and assessing the housing situation I was in.

The angry detective growled, "Lot of papers you have there, interesting magazine as well." He thumbed through the research documents as Jennifer focused on trying to get a hold of the situation.

With a quick smile and brushing back of the hair, Jennifer started trying to turn on the charm, "So detectives, what brings you to my lowly apartment?"

Detective Phillips (finally a name) smiled back, "Well, we received a concerning complaint from the corner market, something about genitals and the Christmas Darling. That's why we made it here so fast."

Jennifer made herself blush, adding to her new girly persona, "Detective, I tend to spout off with little to no control, I made a few comments to some men that were being very crude towards woman kind. It was an attempt to make them change their ways."

Grumpy detective was still scouring the area while Jennifer was busy getting quizzed for her comments, "What's all this red stuff on the floor, on your pants, what sort of stuff do you do here? Why so many newspapers? You must be a really big fan of the news or you had other things in mind."

Detective Phillips interjected, "Well, you may not have heard but we had a Christmas Darling murder last night so that's the key phrase if you want to meet two detectives. Now, my counterpart does make some good points."

Her body filled with fight or flight and was heavily leaning towards flight which was an immediate admission of guilt, "Detective, I heard that my friend Jessica was in the papers for pulling a family from a fiery crash the other day, some sort of medal or award or something. I was going to clip all the articles and make a collage for her."

She chuckled but continued, "The stains, that's wine, red wine, Pinot Noir to be exact. I had a little too much last night and I made a little bit of a mess."

With a quick push of a question, "Celebrating something?"

Knowing exactly what Grumpy was trying to do, a blitz interrogation of sorts, Jennifer calmly replied, "Not exactly. It's...last night," she began to weep. "Last night was the first Christmas since my Father passed away. I was drowning my sorrows."

Grumpy barked out again, "If we search this place, we going to find anything of interest?"

It was time to get a little stern with the detectives, this had gone on for long enough, "If I recall from the television, you'll need consent, which I don't give, or a warrant, which you won't get." Jennifer's subconscious was focusing on the fact that the killing knife, the one used in all eight killings, was tucked under a pile of clothes on the kitchen counter, about three feet from Detective Grumpy.

Before she could ask them to leave, Detective Phillips jumped back into the conversation, "Ma'am, we'll see ourselves out. I apologize for the troubles. Please be careful of what you say to people, they are pretty sensitive out there."

A deep exhale left her gaping mouth, "I understand detectives. Honestly, it will never happen again. I wish you the best of luck with the capture of the Christmas...ummm..."

"Darling, The Christmas Darling." On the way out the door Detective Phillips turned, "May I ask you one more question?"

Jennifer nodded like a little kid being offered ice cream, "Sure."

"There aren't any genitals in there are there?" He smiled and removed himself completely from the apartment.

With a schoolgirl’s laugh, "Only mine...wait...no, there are no genitals in here Detective Phillips."

He reached out, handed her his card, and they were off. Off to dive deeper into the Christmas Darling murders. Had they known they just stumbled in and out of the evasive killer, good Lord that would have been quite the awkward situation.

Imagine planning everything to precision, every little detail covered, and you get caught because you mouth off to some jackass at a corner store. That would be absolutely embarrassing and quite anti-climactic.

Back to the papers Jennifer flew. After a while, the papers stopped shaking as the adrenaline wore off and she regained her composure. All of the emotions in the human body attacked her while she was sitting in her wine-stained chair with wine-stained pants surrounded by newspapers, still holding the detective's card.

Jennifer was crying. It is good for you some would say. She needed a good emotional release.

After crying for hours, she finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep surrounded by her research.