by Gayle Trent
“I have to get back to work,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
Faye kissed my cheek, which kinda surprised me but tickled me to death. “Bye.”
As I was rushing back through the mall, I caught a glimpse of Harold inside Sam’s Sporty Sports. Great. Of all places for Harold to work. What was I going to steal from a sporting goods shop, a jock strap? A helmet? This day was going downhill fast. And I’d bet Santa felt the same way.
* * *
I didn’t see the Magnesium Man Gang until dinnertime. And, by then, I was so tired that I didn’t care what they wanted to do. If the police were aware that the group was planning something, why didn’t they just keep a closer watch on the mall and then arrest the guys when they tried to rob it? I’d ask Coop that very question later. I was really getting fed up with this investigation, and I was ready to give up.
“Myrtle, you look awfully down sitting over here by yourself,” Glen said, as he, Harold, and Bo sat down at the table with me. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate this job. That’s what’s wrong,” I said. “And I hate Sunny’s job too. If that old woman says one more cross word to that young ‘un, I’ve a good mind to borrow a ball bat from the sporting goods store and pretend everything in the Women’s Warehouse is a ball.”
“Aw, now...it’ll be all right,” said Bo.
“I reckon,” I said with a sigh. “And I know I’m not the only one who wants something better, am I?” I shook my head. “And it’s not too late for you all. Bo, you could go back to school and get a job doing anything you wanted to do.”
“Maybe I will come spring,” he said.
Glen leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “What if I told you we could make a pretty substantial pile of money in one night?”
“How substantial?” I asked.
“At least a hundred thousand apiece,” he said.
“A hundred thousand?!”
“Shhh,” Harold hissed. “You wanna tell the world?”
“Y’all are pulling my leg,” I said quietly.
“No, we’re not,” said Glen.
“What would I have to do?” I asked.
“What would you be willing to do?” Harold asked.
“Just about anything, short of selling my soul to the Devil,” I said. “Tell me what you’ve got in mind.”
Glen shook his head. “Not here. We can’t talk here in public.”
“Then come over to my house,” I said. “There’s not a soul there except me and my dog Matlock.”
The three gang members looked at each other.
“Ya’ll really are pulling my leg, aren’t you?” I asked. “You’re just trying to get an old woman’s hopes up. There’s no way we could earn that kind of money in one day.”
“You might just be surprised,” said Bo, with a wink.
“When could we meet?” Glen asked.
“I have to be here again in the morning by nine,” I said. “But I don’t have to be at work until one o’clock Monday afternoon. What do you say we meet at my house at nine Monday morning?”
“Works for me,” Glen said. “Bo? Harold?”
“I can do that,” Bo said.
“I’ll be there,” Harold said, but he said it in a growly voice like he didn’t want to come but that he’d do it to make everybody else happy.
I gave them my address and said that maybe I could make a little breakfast Monday morning. Bo seemed tickled by that idea. I wondered how Cooper would feel about it.
* * *
I didn’t get home until almost ten o’clock Saturday night. Still, I called Cooper as soon as I got there.
“I hope I’m not bothering you,” I said when he answered the phone. “But this couldn’t wait.”
“You’re never a bother, Myrtle. What’s going on?”
“Glen, Harold, and Bo want to meet with me and talk about something private,” I said. “Glen asked me if I’d like to make at least a hundred thousand dollars.”
“A hundred thousand dollars?”
“At least…and that would just be my cut, from the way he talked.”
“What store does he think he can rob and get four hundred thousand dollars from?” Cooper asked.
“I don’t know, but I plan on finding out Monday morning.”
“When and where?” he asked. “I want to be close by.”
“I’ve invited them to my house for breakfast at nine o’clock,” I said.
“If you do, I’m gonna be in the hall closet.”
I laughed as I pictured Cooper trying to fold his tall self up to fit in the hall closet. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you get with the detectives working the Jackson Barnard case and have them put a camera in my kitchen while I’m gone tomorrow? I can put you a key under the flower pot on the front porch.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “I’ll talk with them and see what we can work out. In the meantime, be careful around this bunch. I don’t know whether or not they were involved in Jackson Barnard’s death, but I wouldn’t doubt it for an instant.”
“Oh, I think they were,” I said. “I’ll try to get them to admit it on tape.”
“Don’t you even think about there being a tape,” he said sharply. “If we do this thing, I want you to act naturally and just see what happens.”
“I’m sorry, honey, but I’m getting tired of being at that mall every single day. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get these guys off the street—or out of the mall—so I can get myself off the street and out of the mall,” I said. “Except Bo. That young ‘un seems to have a good heart. I think we might be able to fix him.”
“Myrtle, darlin’, don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment.”
“I’m not,” I said.
Although, I guess I was a little. Bo did seem like a good kid. Maybe if there was somebody to push him in the right direction…. And Glen didn’t seem to be a bad guy…just desperate. Harold, now, he was a horse of a different color. I didn’t quite trust him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the mastermind of the whole thing.
Chapter Twelve
I remembered to leave the key under the flower pot for Cooper before I went to work the next morning. I also left him a note telling him that I’d let Matlock out into the backyard and asking him to let the dog back in once everyone else had left. Matlock knew Coop, but I didn’t know how he might act if a group of strangers came tromping into my house without me being home. Last, but not least, I left a plate of cookies on the table for Coop and the workers.
I sure did feel guilty as I passed by the church on my way to the mall. I figured God understood, though. After all, I was working toward the greater good—fighting crime and stuff.
I want you to know that about three and a half hours into my shift, I was praying for forgiveness though. Not because I’d missed church, but because I wanted to slug Tansie. She had the nerve to bring Melvia to the Chicken Coop right after church for lunch…which was fine…but on their way to the Chicken Coop, Tansie just had to stop and give me the third degree…right there in front of Santa, the young ‘uns, and everybody.
“Myrtle, Myrtle, Myrtle….” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. I half expected the old hen to lay an egg. “We noticed you weren’t in church this morning.”
Melvia lowered her head, embarrassed to be seen with Tansie—especially when she was being all pompous—I reckoned.
I just kept handing out candy canes and coloring books and sweet talking the young ‘uns like I didn’t even realize she was there.
And then she said, “And that ain’t all I noticed. I saw a bunch of men going into your house this morning. One of them--”
“Hush,” I said, my head whipping around . “Don’t you dare say another word. Not one.”
“Why, Myrtle, I--”
“I’ve done told you to hush,” I interrupted again. “Now you get out of this mall, and don’t talk to or look at another soul on your way out.”
“But-- �
��
“I mean it! I’ll tell you what’s going on when I get home,” I whispered. “But you need to get out of here and keep your mouth shut if you don’t want to be in a whole lot of trouble.”
She flattened her pruny lips and said, “Okay.”
“Bye, Myrtle,” Melvia said.
“Bye, Melvia. Talk to you later!” Then I turned back to the children and went back to handing out candy canes and coloring books. “Here, angel…there you go. Merry Christmas!”
I hoped and prayed that big mouth Tansie hadn’t spoiled our undercover operation right then and there.
* * *
I’d just barely got over the Tansie fiasco when here came Sunny. I didn’t see her coming until she got right up on me; but when I did see her, she was crying. Well, I broke the candy cane I was holding smack dab in two. The young ‘un who was getting ready to take the candy cane started wailing, and that made his little brother—who was still plunked down on Santa’s lap like a little sack of potatoes—scream and smack Santa’s face. I handed the young ‘un another candy cane right quick, but that didn’t suit him. He wanted the one I’d broken, only he wanted it in one piece instead of two. I ignored him this time and hurried to Sunny.
“Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Oh, Mimi! She doesn’t think I can do anything right! She fusses at me all the time!”
“Well, you sit down here and get composed, and as soon as I get my break, we’ll go up there and I’ll give her a piece of my mind.”
“I’m never going back to Women’s Warehouse,” she said. “I quit.”
“Have you called your mama?” I asked. “Is she on her way to get you?”
She nodded. “Do you think she’ll be mad?”
“Of course, she won’t.” I was thinking she’d sure better not be. I glanced over my shoulder where my line was backing up. “Go get you some money out of my pocket book and walk over there to the Bagel Barn and get you something.”
“I don’t need anything,” she said. “I’ll just sit here and wait for Mom.”
“All right, honey,” I said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I hurried back and gave each of the children waiting a coloring book and a candy cane so they’d go on back to their parents. Poor little Sunny. That dragon lady was gonna get a piece of my mind—I’d see to that. Harassing a poor little young ‘un…what was her problem anyway? Was she a child-hater? It was all I could do to keep smiling and wishing everybody tidings of joy when I was mad enough to eat lead and spit bullets.
Faye showed up about fifteen minutes later, and it was close enough to the actual time to where Santa put up the sign, and he and I went ahead and took our break. Faye had sat down on the bench beside Sunny and had her arm around her.
“Do you all want to grab a quick bite of lunch?” I asked.
Sunny shook her head. “Thanks, Mimi, but I just want to go home.”
Faye looked up at me. “Mother, do you know what happened?”
I couldn’t tell if she was asking me for specifics or merely asking if I knew that Sunny had quit her job. “I imagine that hateful manager did something to Sunny, and that was the last straw. Do you know what happened?”
“No, but I’m going to find out before I leave this mall,” Faye said. “Crimson, you stay here with Mimi. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I was proud of Faye. I was usually the one to get fired up and confront people. It was good to see her standing up for her daughter.
I grinned at Sunny once Faye got out of earshot. “Reckon security will throw her out?”
Sunny shrugged.
“Come on, angel. Let’s go get some ice cream,” I said. “It’ll make us both feel better.”
“Shouldn’t we wait here for Mom?” she asked.
“Nah. If she gets thrown out, she’ll call us and let us know.” I led her over to the Igloo and ordered us both a hot fudge sundae. Nothing soothed hurt feelings like hot fudge and vanilla ice cream. And a handful of peanuts did its part too.
We took our sundaes over to the food court, and Sunny sent Faye a text to let her know where we were. I was dying to ask Sunny what happened to make her quit, but it was obvious the young ‘un didn’t want to talk about it. I was also afraid that if I knew, I wouldn’t be content to let Faye handle it; and I’d go up to Women’s Warehouse half-cocked, smack that snotty supervisor in the face, and get fired before I could get the evidence the police needed to put away the heisters. So I didn’t ask.
Glen came by with a lunch tray and saw me sitting there with Sunny. He could apparently tell something was wrong. He just said in passing that he and the other “group members” were looking forward to our meeting tomorrow morning.
“I am too,” I told him. “Tell that sweet Bo that I’ll have biscuits, gravy, eggs, bacon, and pancakes.”
Glen laughed and shook his head. “He’ll never leave!”
“Aw, I reckon he’ll skedaddle when the food runs out,” I said.
He took his tray and sat a few tables away from us. I was awfully relieved that he didn’t sit with us.
“Who was that?” Sunny asked after he left.
“Just one of the people who works here,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow. She’s got that eyebrow thing down pat. “Mimi?”
“Don’t you worry about it,” I said.
“Is he one of the people you’re investigating?” she hissed.
“Yes…but it’s okay. Cooper knows all about it.”
I didn’t have to talk any more about that because Faye came up and flopped down on the chair to Sunny’s right.
“Well, I told everybody in Women’s Warehouse what I think of them,” she said. “And I said I wouldn’t be darkening their door again.”
“I got you a scarf from there as one of your Christmas presents,” I said. “It was one of the only things in there I could afford, and I mainly got it so Sunny could wrap it. You want me to take it back?”
“Yes, I do,” said Faye. “I don’t want anything that came from that stinking place.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll bring it with me tomorrow. It’s at home. Not under the tree, though. I’ve been afraid to leave Matlock with presents under the tree, so I’ve been putting the presents on the buffet in the dining room.”
“Well, wherever it is, get it and bring it back and pitch it in the manager’s face,” Faye said.
“Okey dokey.” I gave Sunny a grimace that made her grin.
As soon as Sunny finished her sundae, she and Faye left. I quickly finished up and then went to the bathroom to touch up my lipstick and “rosy” cheeks. Mrs. Claus has to have rosy cheeks, you know. I still didn’t know what happened, but that was all right, I reckoned. Faye had taken care of it, and I had enough to contend with today.
* * *
I was worn tee-totally out by the time I got home. Still, I called Cooper and made sure everything was in place for tomorrow morning. He told me where all the cameras and microphones were, and he said he’d be nearby if I needed him.
After talking with Cooper, I called Tansie and told her that if she wanted to find out what was doing on, to get her nosy butt over to the house. She acted insulted by my tone, but she came right over. I couldn’t help that I was tired and didn’t really want to fool with her. She should learn to mind her own business.
Matlock barked a blue streak when Tansie knocked on the door—probably because it was way past the time when either one of us were accustomed to having company. I tried to calm him down as I went to open it.
“He’d better not bite me,” she said, as she came into the living room.
“He knows better,” I said. I started to add a snarky comment about her being poisonous, but I didn’t. Instead, I shut the door, joined Tansie in the living room, and sat down on my recliner. Matlock came over to lie down by my chair. I think Tansie, the blue-haired monster, kinda scared him.
Tansie sat on the sofa and raised her head sligh
tly so she could look down her nose at me. “What were all those men doing here this morning?”
“I’m getting ready to set up a brothel for women. They were all gigolos who were applying for the job. What did you think of them?”
She huffed. “If you didn’t want to tell me the truth, how come you had me come over here?”
“The truth is they were setting up part of an investigation I’m working on,” I said. “You need to keep quiet about this for all our sakes. Can you do that?”
“You know I can.”
Actually, I didn’t know…which is why I asked her. Still, I figured I’d go ahead and tell her. “The reason I’ve been working at the mall was to look into the death of Jackson Barnard.”
“I knew it!”
“But my investigation has led to something even bigger…well, I don’t know if bigger is the right word…I mean, there’s not a crime bigger than murder, is there?”
“Will you get to the point?” Tansie asked.
“There’s a group of men there that had been seen talking with Mr. Barnard every day before he died,” I said. “This same group of men has been talking with me. I think they’re getting ready to pull some sort of heist. The men that were here today were police officers. They put surveillance equipment in my kitchen.”
She hopped up off the couch. “Where? I want to see it.”
“You don’t need to see it. It’s been so carefully concealed that I don’t even know exactly where it’s at.” I blew out a breath. “The men who I think are getting ready to pull the heist—and are going to try and talk me into joining them—are coming to breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“And you think these are the same men who killed poor Jackson Barnard?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. I think that for whatever reason, he bailed on them or threatened to tell on them…and I think he was killed over it.”
“You’d better make them a dang good breakfast then,” she said. “Would you like for me to come over and help?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I’ll do just fine.”
