by Gayle Trent
“Sounds like a plan to me,” she said.
“Of course, you don’t have to worry about calories,” I said. “You’re a bean pole. Are you excited about starting your job on Saturday?”
“Actually, they want me to work from five to eight Friday evening,” she said. “I think it’s supposed to be like training or something.”
“Oh, good! Maybe I can pop in and get a gift wrapped.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to do it, Mimi?” Sunny asked. “Everybody seems to think I won’t do that great a job because I’m only fourteen.”
“I know you’ll do a wonderful job,” I told her. I didn’t have time to elaborate right that minute because we were home. Besides, there wasn’t much to elaborate on. I knew the young ‘un could wrap a pretty package. It ain’t like it was molecular biology. (I started to say rocket science, but I figured that was too predictable.)
While Sunny took Matlock out into the backyard to play for a few minutes, I peeled potatoes. Sunny came in, pink-cheeked and smiling, and her eyes widened at the bowl of potatoes.
“Are you fixing dinner?” she asked.
“Well, yeah…. But I’m expecting company.”
“Oh.” The smile faded.
“Cooper Norville’s coming to supper,” I said. “You and your mama are welcome to stay and eat with us. We’ll have plenty.”
“No way, Mimi! We’re not going to horn in on your date!”
“How about if I make you all plates to take home?” I asked.
She grinned. “That works for me.”
I laughed. That young ‘un loves her Mimi’s cooking.
* * *
Cooper got to the house at about a quarter before six. He brought me the prettiest bouquet. It had red roses, pink carnations, and white mums in it. I hoped Tansie had seen him standing on the porch with it.
We sat down to dinner, and I had to explain why it looked like it had already been picked over. He laughed and said he understood.
“Why, if you were making a delicious dinner like this and offered me a plate to take home, I wouldn’t turn it down,” he said.
“Well, maybe we’ll have enough leftovers for you to take some home,” I said.
“Now, Myrtle, I wasn’t fishing.”
“I know you weren’t, but I don’t need all this food here going to waste.” I didn’t need it going to waist either, but I didn’t want to call attention to that.
“Well, far be it from me, to let good food be wasted,” Coop said. “How’s your investigation going?”
“I believe you were right about the wallet being a test,” I said. “I fixed up a batch of potato chip cookies and took them to share with the gang at lunch. There were plenty left over, so I offered them to Bo—the one who gave me the wallet—to take home. Later he came by and told me he was glad I chose to keep the money. My biggest obstacle was figuring out how to keep it and still seem like I had a few morals.”
“How’d you do it?” Cooper scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
“I told him I’d decided the wallet must’ve belonged to a young ‘un. And I said I’ve seen a lot of spoiled rich kids go through the line at Santa Land and that I figured any kid carrying around that much money either wouldn’t miss it or would just ask his parents for more. And I said losing it might be a good lesson.” I shrugged. “I also told Bo that it was obvious that the identification was fake, so the mall wouldn’t have been able to determine whose it was anyway.”
“And what did he say?”
“He basically just thanked me for the cookies,” I said. “Still, I just have a feeling that I’ve passed some sort of test. If they think they can provide a good enough reason for what they’re doing and try to convince me that no one will get hurt, then I believe they think they can talk me into helping them pull off whatever scheme they’ve got cooked up.”
He covered my hand with his. “Just be careful. I don’t have jurisdiction here. And even though I know the town police can and will protect you if and when you take your evidence to them, I don’t trust them like I do my own guys…especially where your safety is on the line.”
Chapter Ten
I went in to work early the next day. Neither Matlock nor I wanted to get up, let me tell you. So it’s a really good thing I didn’t have to be at work before noon. We didn’t sleep until noon, mind you. We only slept until seven. Then we laid around and acted no account until nine. And I had the one piece of cake I’d saved for myself for breakfast while Matlock was out tromping around in the yard. Sunny was right—there’s nothing like cake for breakfast.
Anyhow, I got to the mall at around twelve. I didn’t have to be at my post in Santa Land until one o’clock, so that gave me almost an hour to linger over a cup of coffee from the Bagel Barn to see if any of the Magnesium Man Gang wandered along.
I’d been there about twenty minutes when Glen came up and sat down with me.
“We missed you yesterday,” he said.
“Well, I appreciate it. But old folks like me need at least one day off during the week…especially when they’ve not been accustomed to working for a long, long time,” I said. “I can’t keep up with you young people.”
“Not too many folks are going to accuse of me of being one of those,” Glen said with a laugh. “I know where you’re coming from—it’s hard to work day in and day out…especially when you’re supposed to be enjoying your so-called golden years.”
I agreed.
“Bo told us about the wallet he gave you,” he said.
“Oh, now, I wish he hadn’t done that,” I said. “I don’t want you all to think badly of me. The way I had it figured—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Glen interrupted. “I know you’re a good person, Myrtle. And I also know that money wouldn’t have done anybody any good laying around in lost and found for six months until it was forfeited to the mall manager.”
“Is that what would’ve happened to it?” I asked.
“If you’d have turned it in, that’s exactly what would’ve happened to it,” he said. “And the mall manager has enough money.” He sighed. “It makes you mad to think about all the fat cats getting richer while the rest of us scrape to get by, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, it sure does,” I said. I could tell by the way he was watching me that my answer was very important. “It’s not fair that they hardly have to work at all while we’re on our feet all day making money for the mall.”
“Yeah…if I had a cushy desk job and all the perks the manager here gets, it wouldn’t be so bad.” He continued to gauge my responses.
“And he doesn’t have to worry about the Christmas season ending,” I said, thinking that secretly I’d be tickled to death when it was done and I could get back to my old life.
“That’s right. His job is secure,” Glen said. “All the shop owners’ jobs are secure too. They don’t have a thing to worry about. Why, even if they were robbed, they’d just cash in on their insurance.”
“Why, sure. It’s a win-win for them.”
He chuckled. “It makes me sympathize with robbers sometimes, you know?”
“Everybody sympathizes with robbers when they’re on the side of the good guy,” I told him. “Like in all those movies with George Clooney and Brad Pitt where they rob from bad guys so they can enjoy all the money themselves?”
“Yeah. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” he asked.
I nodded. “It sure would.” I checked my watch. “Well, I’d better get over to Santa Land. I haven’t heard anything from George Clooney saying he needs me on his latest heist, so I’d better get to work.”
We both laughed as I stood and pushed back my chair.
“If he calls, ask him to count me in,” Glen said.
“I will.”
As I walked the short distance over to Santa Land, I knew I was closer than ever to finding out what had cost Jackson Barnard his life. Hopefully, having Coop in my corner would keep it from co
sting me mine.
* * *
It was a fairly busy afternoon. We had two busloads of preschoolers come in back to back to give Santa their wish lists. I went through candy canes and coloring books so fast, I had to call up to Nancy and have her send somebody down with another box of each. She came by later herself to ask how many parents had chaperoned the preschoolers. I told her that there weren’t many. She wasn’t too pleased about that. Sure, the preschoolers were good for business—they’d tell their moms and dads about their trip to the mall and probably ask for stuff the mall carried—but it was always better, from Nancy’s point of view, when the parents accompanied their little darlings and heard firsthand what the kiddies wanted Santa Claus to bring them for Christmas. And then, of course, the hope was that they’d buy the stuff from Toy Town. Nancy must’ve owned stock in Toy Town the way she helped shill their merchandise.
At dinnertime, I ran up to the ladies’ clothing store where Sunny had been hired to wrap presents. I’d waited until five-thirty, so I knew she’d be there already. I went in and picked out a pretty scarf for Faye. That store is so pricey, that’s about all I could afford there. Anyway, I hurried over to the gift wrap counter.
There she was…all pretty and nervous and sweet. My heart did a little flip-flop. Our Sunny was the most precious young ‘un in the world…working this job so she could buy me and her mother Christmas presents with her own money.
I decided to play it cool and not let her supervisor know I was Sunny’s grandmother. “Good evening, ladies. I just purchased this scarf for my daughter, and I’d like to have it wrapped please.” I winked at Sunny.
“All right, Crimson,” her supervisor said. “Remember what you’ve been taught.” She looked at me. “Please bear with her. This is her first wrapping job.”
“She appears to be very competent,” I said. “I know she’ll do a wonderful job.”
My sentiment was drowned out by the supervisor barking, “That’s too much paper, Crimson. Five inches by eight inches for a scarf box. You’ve pulled off at least ten inches. Look how much will go to waste.”
“I’m sorry,” Sunny mumbled.
I bit my lip to keep from saying anything.
With trembling hands, Sunny began wrapping the box.
“Square up the sides!” the supervisor said.
I was about to draw blood from my lip.
Sunny apparently squared up the sides and then asked how much ribbon she should use.
“We’ve gone over this! You need—”
“Why don’t you sit down and shut up,” I said. “This young ‘un is doing her best, and you’ve done nothing but yell at her and make her more nervous since she started. You told me yourself this was the first package she’d wrapped.”
“Exactly…which is why she has to learn,” said the supervisor.
“Well, a person can learn without being yelled at and embarrassed,” I said. “I might be obliged to buy something else from this shop before Christmas. If I am, and if I hear you berating anyone else while my package is being wrapped, then I’m liable to yell at you in front of your supervisor. Do I make myself clear?”
If looks could’ve killed, I’d have dropped dead. Fortunately, the woman had been on the job herself long enough to learn that old adage about the customer always being right, so she mumbled a yes, ma’am, and answered Sunny’s question like she had some sense.
After Sunny finished wrapping my present, I gave her a dollar tip and said, “Thank you, young lady, for doing such an outstanding job on my package. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you for shopping Women’s Warehouse,” Sunny said, trying not to giggle.
I left and took my meatloaf sandwich I’d brought on down to the food court. I had a bottle of water to go with it. I hadn’t wanted to look especially prosperous today, given the fact that the Magnesium Man Gang was probably gonna enlist my help in knocking over the mall. But besides that, leftover meatloaf sandwiches on fresh bread with mustard are out-of-this-world good.
I was unwrapping my sandwich when Bo came up. He nodded at my tote bag where Faye’s gift was poking out.
“Been shopping?” he asked.
I nodded. “I went up there to that Women’s Warehouse to get my daughter a Christmas present. Their prices are sky high. The only thing I could afford was a scarf. I went there, though, because my granddaughter got a job wrapping presents there. That hateful old woman supervising her was treating her like a dog.”
“Really?” Bo asked.
“Really. The young ‘un is only fourteen years old, and this is her first day. You’d think they’d cut her some slack.” I uncapped my bottle of water and took a drink.
Glen and Harold joined us.
“You look mad enough to bite a nail in two,” Glen told me.
I filled him in on the gift wrap story. “And she did just fine.” I pulled the package out of my tote bag. “Look how nice that is.”
“It is nice,” Glen said. “How old did you say she is?”
“Fourteen,” I said, placing the gift back in my tote.
“That’s awfully young to be having to work.” His eyes narrowed as he watched for my reaction. He thought Sunny was having to work.
“It sure is,” I said. “I wish we could both just quit this place today.” I bit into my sandwich.
Glen and Harold shared a look. Harold shook his head slightly, but Glen was boring his eyes into Harold’s and jerking his head toward Bo. I was trying to pretend I didn’t notice anything weird about their behavior, but I reckoned that Bo and Glen were on board with making me a part of the gang but that Harold wasn’t. I didn’t know how to win Harold over to my side but thought it best I just stay out of it. Let that be between them…or else I’d come across looking suspicious.
Chapter Eleven
Before going to work the next day, I called Cooper and filled him in on the latest goings-on with the gang.
“I swear I think Glen and Bo want to let me into the gang, but Harold doesn’t quite trust me or something,” I said. “He seems to be the hold out. Any ideas on how to make him think I’m trustworthy…or not trustworthy…or whatever it is he wants me to be?”
“Where is it that Harold works?” Coop asked.
“I don’t know. He’s never said. He doesn’t usually have much to say.”
“Find out where he works,” he said.
“And then what? Steal something from his store?” I laughed.
Cooper didn’t laugh. “Yeah…something like that. I’ve talked with the officers running the investigation into Barnard’s death, and they’ve also heard rumors about a proposed heist. You find out where Harold works, and I’m sure they’ll help us set something up that will make it appear that you’re a hardened criminal.” At that, he did laugh.
“All right.”
“You don’t sound as sure of yourself as you usually do,” he said.
“That’s because I’m not,” I told him.
“Well, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you know.”
I sighed. “Aw, in for a penny, in for a pound, I reckon.”
He chuckled. “I might stop by the mall later and see you in your Mrs. Claus getup.”
“Don’t you dare,” I said.
He laughed again. “I’m sure you look adorable.”
“Yeah, well, hang on to that thought…and don’t ruin it by coming to see the garb in person,” I said. “I’d better go get ready for work.”
“Talk to you later, darlin’. Be careful.”
“You too.”
When I hung up the phone, I looked down at Matlock, who was lying at my feet. “There he goes with that darlin’ again.” I giggled. “He’s pretty sweet, ain’t he?”
Matlock wagged his tail. I took that as a definite yes.
* * *
By the time I got to my post in Santa Land, young ‘uns were already lining up to see Santa. It was going to be a busy day. I looked to make sure I had enough candy canes an
d coloring books to do me until our first break at least. I thought I did. Of course, you could never tell. That line was growing by the minute.
I wondered how Sunny’s first evening of work had finished out. I hoped that hateful supervisor treated her better after I left. It’s hard to work your first job. You don’t know what to do, what’s expected of you…you’re not used to people treating you like a mangy old cur…. Bless her heart. If I wasn’t careful, I’d start crying right here in Santa Land, and then all the young ‘uns would think Santa was a wife beater or something. I decided to go check on Sunny during my lunch break and to try not to think about how she was faring at her job until then.
I got to take a little break sooner than I’d expected. A toddler threw up on Santa, and he had to go get cleaned up—Santa, not the toddler…although I imagined the toddler had to go get cleaned up too. We put up the sign “BACK IN FIFTEEN MINUTES” and I practically sprinted to the store where Sunny was working.
I hurried back to the gift wrapping station, and she was working on a package just as diligently as she could. Old Hawk Eyes was standing right beside her waiting for her to mess up. But Sunny didn’t mess up. She did a great job, and the woman whose present she was wrapping bragged and bragged on her. Then the woman turned around, and I saw that it was Faye.
Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she hurried over. “Mother, what are you doing?” she whispered. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“I am working. Some young ‘un puked on Santa, so I got a fifteen minute break.” I jerked my head toward Sunny. “How’s it going? It looks like she’s doing great.”
“She is…that woman is a harpy, though.”
“I know it,” I said. “She’s just waiting for Sunny to mess something up so she can pounce on her. And if she pounces on my grandbaby, she’ll find out how good an old woman in a Mrs. Claus suit can pounce.”
Faye tried to hide a grin. “Now, Mother….”
Sunny glanced up, saw me, and smiled. Her eyes slid toward Hawk-Eyed Harpy, and I knew she was afraid to wave. I winked at her.
