by Laina Turner
“Roxanne might not be a killer, but she also wasn’t good at her job. How are these gorgeous gowns just sitting in a box?”
“Want them put out?” Katy asked.
“Yeah. They’re stunning. I’m assuming the bill is somewhere in that mess,” I said, pointing to the desk.
We got down to working, and I felt like we were getting a lot done, partly because we had no interruptions from customers, but I kept hearing this noise. I couldn’t imagine where it was coming from, and it kept distracting me. “Does anyone else hear that?” I finally said, wondering if maybe I was just imagining it.
Katy looked over at me. “I thought I heard things, so I’m glad you hear it too. It sounds like a kitten. But that’s crazy. We’re in a store in downtown Chicago.”
“I don’t hear anything but let me walk back to you guys,” Joyce said making her way to us and stood there listening. “OK, now I hear it. It does sound like a kitten. But where could it be coming from?”
“It has to be coming from outside,” I said and walked to the back emergency door where we took in shipments. I used my key to unlock it, so the panic bar didn’t sound the alarm, that wasn’t a screeching noise I wanted to hear, and I opened the door. Since we backed up to an alley, there was nothing out here, but dumpsters and a few trucks unloading to other places. “The sound is louder out here.”
“Yeah, I can hear it plain as day now,” Joyce said. “If that is a kitten, and it sounds like one, it sure has a strong voice.”
“But where is it coming from?” I wondered. I grabbed the wooden doorstop and put it in the door so it wouldn’t lock the three of us out, and we walked all the way out the door. As the door swung shut before catching on the doorstop, the mewing became a little bit louder, and I noticed a small hole in the wall next to the ground and something black moving. I crouched down and started to reach out.”
“What are you doing?” Katy asked. “There could be a rat in there.”
“Rats don’t meow,” I retorted, but still I hesitated for a split second; I hadn’t thought about that. “Let’s hope not,” I said and decided to take a chance and went ahead and reached my hand toward the moving black fur. My hand touched it, and I was able to wrap my fingers around its body and pull it out.
“Oh my God, how did that precious thing get in there?” Katy said as we were all looking at the scrawniest kitten I had ever seen, who had stopped meowing and started purring the minute I had put my hand on its back.
Joyce was bent down looking at the hole. “She, or he, must have crawled in there to get out of the cold. Good thing he was loud, and we found him.”
“Thank goodness for this little guy,” I said. “He could have frozen or starved.”
“Or gal,” Katy smiled. I turned the cat over and checked.
“You’re right; it’s a girl. Let’s get back inside it’s freezing out here.”
We walked back in, and I was still holding the kitten to my chest where she was purring away. “So what should we do with you,” I said to the kitten but Katy answered.
“I think she looks content to stay where she is, but you can’t work and hold her.”
“I know but I’m not putting her back outside.”
“I know. Let’s keep her. We could have a mascot for the store,” Joyce said.
“I like that idea but it’s not a health violation or against some business code?” I said.
“I wouldn’t think so, we don’t sell food,” said Katy. “I know plenty of places that have cats or a dog hanging out in their place of business. Besides whose going to tell.”
“Then it’s settled. We have our first Silk mascot, fitting for new beginnings. What should we name her?” I said thinking. “How about Ebony. She’s black and ebony is a high end black wood, so I think it’s fitting for our mascot, even if a little unoriginal.”
“I think that’s a great name,” said Joyce.
“We’ll need to have her checked out by a vet and get her some supplies but at least right now she’s out of the cold.”
“She looks right at home, Presley,” Katy said. I had sat her down on a chair, and she had curled herself into a ball, closed her eyes and was purring away.
“I wish I could take a nap like that,” I joked.
“No kidding. I could use a nap right now,” Katy replied.
“Come on. We only have a couple more of these boxes to sort and then maybe we can go have a celebratory lunch for our accomplishments,” Joyce said.
“Now that’s motivating,” I said and we got back to work, dragging boxes from the back.
A couple hours later we had finally reached our limit. “If I have to pull out one more wadded up piece of merchandise I’m going to scream,” I said. “I can’t believe this stuff was treated like this. Sorry Joyce, I don’t mean to make you feel bad, but this is thousands of dollars worth of merchandise that’s been disrespected and much of it ruined.”
We had found more boxes of merchandise hidden away in a storage space intended for storing mannequins and miscellaneous items. Instead of dealing with out of season merchandise someone had just stuck it in boxes and hidden it. There was probably several thousand dollars’ worth of clothes here, which would have been worth much more if it had been marked down and sold instead of hidden away in boxes. Though I guess the positive was we had a lot more merchandise than I thought in the store, including two more boxes of brand new evening gowns. “At least wrinkles are fixable,” I sighed.
“Don’t worry about it, Presley. Silk is your business, and I don’t blame you for being upset. I guess I never paid much attention. I just did as told.”
I could tell Joyce was feeling guilty, and it wasn’t her fault.
“What are we going to do with all this?” Katy asked, looking at the two full racks of a hodgepodge of dresses, skirts and tops that had barely scratched the surface. Next to the rack of thousand dollar dresses.
“That stuff can’t go back out on the floor,” I said, pointing to the rack. “There is no way I could even begin to merchandise this in such a way that it would make sense with what we have now. Our customers would know it’s from two seasons ago. That other rack over there,” I pointed, “I think I can make work. But this, no way.”
“So what are you going to do?” asked Joyce. “Surely there’s a way to recoup some value?”
“What do you think of eBay? Open an account for the store and sell things that just no longer have a place on the sales floor.”
“That’s a great idea,” Katy said. I noticed an odd expression cross Joyce’s face, but it was quickly gone, making me wonder if I had just imagined it or if she thought it was just a stupid idea.
“Or do you think it’s a bad idea,” I asked her.
“Oh no. I think it is a good one. Better than throwing it away.”
“If we can get at least a few pennies from the stuff, it will help the cause and it might become a great way to handle off season going forward. Otherwise, we would have to donate it, and I hate to seem greedy, but we can’t afford just to toss it. We need to try at least to make something.”
“Not greedy at all. You’re thinking like a business owner,” said Katy.
“I can photograph the stuff for you,” Joyce offered. “I have my camera in the car.”
“That would be awesome. Let’s finish steaming this last box, and we can set the stuff to the side for now. Tomorrow you can photograph it, and I can write up a description and get it online. At least we have a few new things to put out.”
Chapter 5
By the time, the other two girls got to work we had made quite a bit of headway in getting things organized, and I was feeling pretty good about things. While still way too light on current looking merchandise, having some merchandise properly displayed made a huge difference. Just ridding the store of dust bunnies was a huge help. Things always looked better clean. We were starting to look more like a boutique than a garage sale. It was a challenge trying to pull together display outfit
s from the very piecemeal assortment we had but it was also fun. I was proud of some of the cool looking outfits I was able to make from such a slim selection. It’s what I loved most about working in fashion, putting together outfits. Trying to figure out what would catch someone’s eye and entice him or her to make a purchase. I often told myself I would purge my closet of items I hadn’t worn in forever. But when I started the clean out process, figured out how to use them to create new outfits I hadn’t thought of before. I had even become so engrossed in what I was doing that I forgot about Roxanne for a bit and about being stressed over what I was taking on. I was having fun and remembering the reason I had taken the plunge in doing this. Fashion was my passion; I thought, giggling at the silly rhyme, though it would probably make a good T-shirt.
After giving Debbie and Brenda a pep talk and a list of things to get done Katy, Joyce and I decided to grab some lunch. I was happy to see that both Debbie and Brenda seemed in good spirits today and willing to work. Showing up was a step in the right direction.
“Where we headed?” Joyce asked as we headed out the door.
“There’s a yummy Mexican restaurant right around the corner. I’ve been craving their fajitas.”
“Didn’t you just say a few hours ago that your pants were tight?” Katy teased.
“That was a long time ago,” I joked back. “I’m sure I lost about ten pounds since then.”
“I think Mexican is always a great choice,” said Joyce.
It was a short walk, but the March air was still chilly, making me almost wish we had driven here. Though as soon as we arrived I forgot about being cold, because this place smelled wonderful. That salty aroma of fresh deep fried chips. You couldn’t get much better than that. My stomach started growling.
We were quickly seated and munching on the yummy chips. Chips and salsa were one of my many food downfalls, and when it was bottomless like at most Mexican restaurants like this, I always ate way too many. After placing our order, I looked at Joyce.
“Did you ever meet Drew’s business partner, Rod?”
“Once at some party Roxanne brought me too. He seemed nice enough, but he was no Drew. From what Roxanne told me, Drew was the brains behind the business and Rod were the salesman, and that’s very much how he came across.”
“Why do you think Roxanne said I needed to talk to him? Besides the obvious that if they were partners Rod knew him well. Was she friends with them?”
Joyce shrugged. “No idea. She rarely talked about Drew in the context of what he did for a living. I don’t think she understood his work. I just know she was proud of him and thought he was the greatest thing ever.”
It didn’t take long for our food to arrive, which was another reason I liked this place for lunch. No matter how busy they seemed they had quick service, and the food was consistently good and plentiful. They didn’t skimp on portions and no matter how many baskets of chips I had scarfed down, I always manage to finish my meal.
“This hits the spot,” Katy said mouth full of burrito.
“Too bad it’s still a work day. Their margaritas are to die for,” I said.
“Did you get anywhere with the vendors,” Katy asked. “I can’t believe I forgot to ask.”
“Surprisingly, yes. I got two of them to open a separate account for us and gave me some time to make payments on the old balance. They were much more understanding than I would be in their shoes. It’s a small line of credit, but I can’t blame them for not taking a bigger risk. I’m going to have to follow up with making sure James is holding up his end of the bargain or rather have Jim make sure. I know I’ll have to stay on top of him or I’m sure those balances won’t be paid, especially in light of the tax issue that he is, hopefully, on the hook for”
“He is quite the piece of work,” said Joyce. “He rarely came in the store but when he did, he just yelled and screamed about how we were draining him. I don’t know how Roxanne put up with it.”
That sounded like James. “I was never a fan of his when Solange was alive and he got worse when she died. What are your career goals Joyce?” I said changing the subject because I cared far less about talking about James and Solange’s murder than finding out more about the one employee who actually seemed to care about her job and whom I found myself liking. I didn’t want to jump to opinions, but the other two girls just didn’t seem to have the same work ethic as Joyce. They seemed sweet and they were probably still in shock over what had happened yesterday with Roxanne being arrested and so I was trying to keep an open mind. At least for now.
“I want to be a photographer; that’s why I offered to photograph the clothes for you. Good practice. I guess you could say I’m a photographer now but not one who gets paid. Just family and friends sort of thing. I’m a long ways away from supporting myself, but it’s my dream. I want to earn a living at it.”
“Really? That’s interesting. I’m not what you would call a good picture taker. So I appreciate that it’s not easy and takes talent. Have you always been interested in photography?”
“I have but it wasn’t until a few years ago when I realized life was too short to not follow my dreams and since then I’ve been working to get my business off the ground. Following your dreams isn’t easy,” she laughed. “Not if you want to eat and have a roof over your head.”
“Tell me about it. Let me guess Silk offers you a decent job with a flexible work schedule to do what you love.”
Joyce’s eyes widened. “That’s right on point. How did you know?”
“Because that was me the first time I worked at Silk. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and when I left my corporate job, I wanted something with a more flexible schedule and landed here for the same reason. Flexibility and the fact I needed to eat. As you can tell, eating is important to me.”
“Are you still writing?”
“Not really. Sometimes passions and talent don’t go hand in hand.”
“She’s selling herself short,” Katy said. “She is so critical of herself she doesn’t ever finish anything. And she does write a food blog which has gotten pretty popular.”
“Oh, please. The only reason it’s popular is who knew there were so many people like me who can’t cook. Not because I’m such a fantastic writer. I spin my food blog to the angle of those who are culinary challenged but don’t want to appear so,” I explained to Joyce.
“That sounds like a good niche. I, usually, take pictures of people, not food but would be happy to photograph your food for you sometime.”
“Really? Having a professional photographer would certainly make my food look better, and I have enjoyed writing this blog and don’t want to give it up. Besides, I need to have a fall back plan in case Silk doesn’t work out.”
“Stop it,” said Katy. “This store will soon be back at its amazing self.”
“I agree, Presley. The store has a ton of potential. I mean you saw how much better it looked when we left. And taking pictures of your food, selfishly it would give me some exposure. Win-win. We can help each other out,” Joyce said.
“Speaking of win-win what’s the plan for this afternoon?” Katy asked.
“We still have more boxes in the back to sort. But I was hoping to leave for just a little bit and see if I could meet with Drew’s business partner,” I said, hesitantly waiting for Katy to question the wisdom of leaving the mess at Silk to play detective, and rightfully so. Silk had to be my priority, but I also wanted to help Roxanne, and a couple hours wouldn’t hurt anything.
“Then Joyce and I can finish these boxes and get them ready for you to look at when you come back.”
I just looked at her.
“What,” she said.
“You’re not going to tell me all the reasons why I shouldn’t get involved and try to talk me out of it.”
“Is it going to do me any good?”
“Not really?” I smiled.
“Well then you do what you feel you need to do and hurry back.”
Chapter 6
Pulling into the parking lot of the offices of The Whole Pi an hour later, I was a little surprised. I’m not sure what I expected their offices to look like, but this wasn’t it. It seemed very low key, not what I would envision as high-tech. I called Rod when we got back to Silk from lunch, explained who I was, and asked if I could stop by and talk with him. I hadn’t expected him to be in the office and was even more surprised that he was willing to talk to me. Figuring it was a long shot. After all his business partner was murdered, and I was a stranger wanting information, but surprisingly, he told me to stop by like everything was business as usual. It didn’t seem odd to him that someone would want to chat about his dead business partner and the girlfriend accused of murdering him, which confused me a little.
The company was located in a strip mall anchored by Pier 1 Imports and a Target. When I walked in I was greeted by a male receptionist who if I had to describe his look I would call it hot geek. This was the kind of guy who could make pocket protectors come back into style, if you know what I mean.
Rod, on the other hand, looked more your typical frat boy whose metabolism had slowed down, but his beer drinking hadn’t. I could tell he had once been very good looking. Football player build, sandy brown hair, blue eyes. But he hadn’t stayed as active in recent years or so it seemed because he just looked soft around the edges. Not unattractive, he was handsome if you liked that ex-jock look, just a little out of shape. Much like myself, I thought, thinking it had been way too long since I had been to the gym, my New Year’s resolution to exercise every day a distant memory.
“Hi, Presley. Good to see you,” he said in a much more jovial tone than I would have expected after someone close to him had died, but we all handled grief differently. I could see his eyes were bloodshot like he hadn’t slept, though as I stepped closer to him, I could smell alcohol so maybe that was what was making his eyes bloodshot. I wasn’t going to judge. He was going through what had to be a rough time.
