Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No profit is being made from its publication. All DM characters are property of CBS/Viacom. The Morgansterns and their house manager are property of the authors.

Note: This is a 'blind' round-robin story. One person wrote the beginning and end of the story and plotted out the rest. Then, each of the other writers got a small paragraph telling her who was in her scene, what was happening, and what important clues she had to reveal. Each member had to work in isolation and had no idea what the others were doing. When all parts were complete, they were synthesized into one story. For us, it was an unusual challenge with delightful results. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did. The Deckers.

Silent Night Shattered

A DM Christmas Mystery

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Chapter One: A Not-So-Silent Night

". . . Sleep in heavenly peace . . . "

Mark could feel the tension in his shoulders and jaw crescendo as the Christmas carol ended. If he hadn't been up to his elbows in the stuffing he was making for the twenty-three pound turkey he was preparing for tomorrow's pre-Christmas dinner, he would have dashed into the living room to hit the skip button on the CD player when the song had started. As it was, he was far too busy to stop what he was doing for an annoying little tune, so he had just endured the few brief verses of what he had once believed was a beautiful song. Since Amanda had taken the boys back east to spend Thanksgiving with Ron, and Jesse was going to spend Christmas with his mom, they had all decided to split the difference and have a holiday of their own on the twentieth of December.

There was a brief silence as the CD changer switched discs, and then Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer started blasting through the house. Mark sighed. That was more like it. Then he frowned. It was a shame, really. He used to love "Silent Night." It had been his favorite Christmas song. He'd even sung it as a lullaby to his children when they were small to help them fall asleep on Christmas Eve so that Santa could come and deliver their gifts. Now, it was merely an unpleasant reminder of one of his most frustrating cases, one of the few he had never solved. Whether it was being sung in the pure, off-key clarity of innocent children's voices or the harmonious perfection of a well-rehearsed choir, for the past five Christmases, that sweet, simple melody had grated on his nerves every time he heard it.

". . . Sleep in heavenly . . ."

Mark, Steve, and Jesse listened with rapt attention as the children's choir finished their final song in an enthusiastic, if out-of-tune, chord. Amanda, whose hands were full with a tray of hot chocolate for the children and their Sunday school teachers, stood beaming proudly as her two young sons smiled back at her.

" . . . pea . . . "

"Nooo! Oh, God, nooo!" A woman's unholy scream followed by loud sobbing rent the still air cutting the choir off in mid-voice. Amanda jumped at the noise, spilling the hot chocolate, which burned her hands and caused her to drop the tray. At the same moment, one of the Sunday school teachers dropped the collection can she had been carrying to take any donations appreciative listeners might want to offer, and loose coins and bills mingled with the sticky brown cocoa and the empty Styrofoam cups that were rolling across the driveway in the slight, chill breeze.

"Oh, Fred, I . . . he . . . oh, God, I'm sorry!" A man's frightened and distressed shout rose into the night. "I didn't . . . It wasn't . . .Oh, God!"

As the choir broke into confused conversation, Mark, Amanda, and their teachers tried to get the children to gather up the cups and the money. A second hysterical shriek split the darkness and Steve, who had ducked inside for his badge and gun said, "That sounds like it came from the Morgansterns' house. Dad, Jesse, Amanda, get everyone inside as quick as you can and call 911."

"Right, son," Mark agreed. "Be careful."

"I will, Dad," Steve reassured his father, and as he headed off toward the neighbors' house, another wail split the air.

At the end of the drive, Steve realized he had company. Turning to his young friend, he said, "Go back to the house, Jess."

"But you might need a doctor," Jesse argued, not wanting to miss the excitement.

"If I do, I'll call you when the scene is secure," Steve replied. "Until then, it will be safer for me if I don't have to watch out for you, too."

Jesse pouted slightly as he watched Steve head off into the night, and then he headed back to the beach house, dragging his feet every step of the way. If he'd only had to worry about himself, he would have insisted on tagging along, but when Steve made his own safety an issue, there was no way Jesse could argue about being left behind.