The reindeer collected Alfred and Balthazar’s bodies and transported them back to Emmett Branscombe’s house. Cleaning up the bloody kitchen at Tinsel Inc. was a bitch but it couldn’t have people investigating a crime scene. Not yet anyway. It took all three of the men’s decapitated heads and placed them beneath Emmett’s tree, their vacant eyes gazing out at nothingness, their black irises illuminated by the blinking Christmas lights around them.
