A Lot Like Christmas

“Looks like we’ll need that graffiti buster again, Betty,” she said.

“Not until the police see this,” Chase said. “I called them out here so we can make a report. Maybe there are vandals working the area they know about.”

“It’s those delinquents at Free Arts,” Randolph said. “They have too much time on their hands and plenty of art supplies.”

“They’re not allowed aerosol paints,” Sylvie said. “And they love the mall. Whoever did this has a grudge against us.”

“We did what we could with the manpower we have,” Randolph said. “Leo and his crew doubled their rounds and changed up the schedule. We need more guards to catch these creeps.”

Sylvie surveyed the damage more closely. “This looks different than the first message. It’s all capital letters and they used the F word. No toilet paper or dumped trash, either.”

“Different kid on the trigger is all,” Randolph said, “and they ran out of time to toss trash. Maybe they saw Leo coming.”

Chase joined her at the wall, studying the letters. “There are lots of blots and drips here.”

“I had that problem when I stenciled the umbrellas. It takes a while to get the spray right.”

“So maybe they’re new to graffiti?”

Chase bent down to the nearby hedge and pushed back the branches. “Looks like they left something.” It was a spray-paint can and when Sylvie got closer she noticed black thumbprints forming a perfect heart on the yellow label. She gasped. “I think that’s my can.”