by Tegan Maher
“Thank you so much for agreeing to a visit,” she said. Her voice sounded slightly strained, and her pretty features showed signs of stress. “I wasn’t even sure you’d be open, seeing as tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”
“No problem,” Penny said. “I work weird hours. What’s up?”
Monique glanced over at me. “Hi Marley,” she said.
It struck me, given Monique’s obvious state of upset, that maybe she needed to talk to Penny about a personal matter that needed to be investigated, so I stood up. “I can go if you guys need a minute alone,” I said, intending to leave the office.
“You don’t have to,” Monique said. “Actually, I’ve heard you two work well together as a team.”
“We do,” Penny said. “I’m the brains and Marley’s the brawn.”
“Or the other way around,” I said. “We’re not really sure yet.”
Monique grinned at our joking banter, but her smile faded quickly. “You guys, I am in so much trouble. I mean, this is really, really bad. I’m hoping you can help me.” She took a deep breath, and then let it all out with one big sigh. “I screwed up, and if I don’t fix it fast -- like, tonight fast-- then I might lose my job.”
Monique was one of the tellers at our local Nugget Bank. She’d been there for years, and I couldn’t imagine why she might lose her job. I also knew that her man, Garreth, was staying at home with their baby while Monique worked. Rumor around town was that he was going to be a stay-at-home dad while Monique brought home the bacon.
Monique’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she went on. “I can’t believe this happened… and I can’t figure out what went on. The whole thing seems so impossible. I have no idea what to do.”
“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Penny prompted.
Monique nodded. “Okay. So, you know how Kurt is my manager?”
I nodded, and so did Penny. We both knew Kurt Knox, who took his job at the bank very seriously.
“Well, he’s really been on my case lately,” Monique said. “I admit, I’ve made some mistakes over the last few months, so he’s had every right to question my performance. He put me on probation, and said that if I get one more warning, he’ll have to terminate my employment with the Nugget Bank.”
“You mean he’ll fire you?” I asked.
Monique nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “Anyway, he has this thing about the bank’s holiday window display. It’s always a big deal every year when he chooses which teller will put it together. He says that the way the teller does the window display represents their mindset -- you know, attention to detail and all of that.”
She sniffed and used the back of her pointer finger to wipe away a tear before it rolled down her cheek. “This year, he actually asked me to do it. I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to really impress him. I decided to go above and beyond, and put together the best window display that the bank has ever had. I thought maybe if I did, and our display won the town contest, then Kurt would see how much I care about my work, and how eager I am to do a good job.”
“This all makes sense so far,” Penny said.
I nodded, curious about what had gone wrong with Monique’s plan. It was clear from the look of concern and confusion on her face, and the tears gathering in her eyes, that something unfortunate had happened.
She went on. “So I asked myself: What makes a great holiday window display? The best window displays have moving parts. The bank always puts out the same display -- Polly the Penguin on ice skates.”
I could picture the penguin mannequin as Monique spoke. She was about three feet tall, with a pink scarf around her thick neck. In the bank's window display, the penguin was always positioned on an ice pond made out of a mirror, complete with little piles of snow made of white cotton, plus fake gold coins scattered about for a colorful (and Nugget-themed) effect.
I had no idea that the penguin's name was Polly.
“Did you say Polly the Penguin?” Penny asked. She had a notebook out now, and she was jotting down words. Apparently, this was the first time she’d heard the penguin’s name, too.
“That’s right. Polly,” Monique said. “Kurt named her years ago, and the name stuck. She’s the bank's best holiday decoration. Everyone loves Polly.” A tear slipped over her lower lid, and this time she didn’t bother to wipe it away.
Uh oh, I thought. Something happened to Polly, didn’t it?
Penny spoke while she jotted down notes -- a big feat for my friend, because she’s not known for her multitasking abilities. “How were you going to add movement into the display?” she asked.
Monique finally wiped at her cheek with her fingertips. Penny held out a tissue box, and Monique pulled one out. She used it to pat the corners of her eyes. “I was going to have Garreth mount Polly onto one of his remote-control cars. He has a new one that’s just the right size, and I figured it would be no problem. I wanted to surprise Kurt with the whole project, so I arranged to sneak Polly home at the end of my shift yesterday. I figured Garreth could do the gluing overnight, and I’d bring Polly back today -- this morning. The problem is…”
She sniffled, and then looked from Penny to me with big doleful eyes. “I stalled right as we were closing, and said I had to use the bathroom. Kurt asked me to lock up the lobby on my way out. I waited ‘til he was gone, and then dragged the box of holiday decorations out of the storage closet. It was heavy and really huge -- about four feet wide… stuffed to the brim with lights, fake evergreen garlands, fake gold coins, and, of course, Polly. I got it out to the sidewalk, and then turned my back on it so that I could lock the doors. That just took me a minute, because the key jammed a little bit. Maybe two minutes, total. When I was done, I looked for the box of decorations, but it was gone.”
I furrowed my brow. It was hard to imagine someone walking off with a box the size and weight that Monique had described, all in a matter of minutes. The bank was in the middle of a main-street block, not even near a corner or anything. “Were there any cars around?” I asked.
“Good thinking, Marley,” Penny murmured. “Someone could have quickly loaded the box into the back of a truck or something.”
Monique shook her head. “That was the first thing I thought of, too. But the street was completely empty. You know how hard it was snowing yesterday evening -- no one wanted to be out driving around in that weather. I saw a plow a few blocks down at the top of Main Street, but that was it.”
“Any people around?” I asked.
Monique shook her head. “I didn’t see anyone. The sidewalk was deserted.”
“Weird,” I murmured.
“Hm…” Penny said.
“I thought I was losing my mind,” Monique said. “I really felt like I was going crazy. How could a box like that just disappear?”
“What did Kurt say about it this morning?” Penny asked.
Monique looked down at her hands. “I haven't told him yet,” she said. “I just can’t bear to. I mean, he’s never put me in charge of the window display in all these years. Now he does -- and I go and freaking lose the star of the show! Polly is like the bank’s mascot, for crying out loud. I’m going to come off looking irresponsible and absent-minded. He won’t believe me if I say it’s not my fault. Because why in the world would someone steal Polly? How would the thief even know I was going to leave the bank at 5:15 with her? It would sound like I was lying about the whole thing, because it’s so improbable.”
I had to admit, it did sound a little bit crazy. At the same time, I sensed that Monique was telling the truth. Her tears were genuine, and so was her bafflement. She really couldn’t understand what had happened to that box of decorations.
She went on. “I’ve been avoiding Kurt all morning, but I can’t keep it up for much longer. He’s bound to ask me about my decorating progress this afternoon. I promised him that the window display and the rest of the decorations would be up by tomorrow night’s Christmas Eve Walk in town, when the Chamber of Commerce
will judge the displays. If I don’t have that skating penguin up by then, Kurt’s going to fire me for sure.”
Penny set down her pen and tented her hands as she examined Monique. “So… you’re telling us that someone snatched Polly the Penguin, right out from under your nose… and now you might lose your job because of it?”
“That’s it,” Monique said. “Can you guys help me out? Can you figure out who took Polly?”
“We sure can try,” Penny said.
“We’re going to do our best,” I seconded. Then I focused on feeling calm and loving, and I radiated some of that over to Monique.
One of the best things I’ve learned through my study of witchcraft, is that I can control my energy and use it to affect how others feel. I saw Monique’s shoulder tension release. She actually smiled for the first time since she stepped into the office.
“Thanks, you two,” she said. “I actually feel better already, just knowing you’re on the case. I know it’s not much, but I can offer you some Christmas cookies as payment. Will that work?”
She leaned over and pulled a tin from her purse. She’d barely set it on the desk and Penny was already yanking the lid off to check on the goods inside. “That works!” my friend said happily. “We’ll take the case.”
2
“We’re going to be late,” I told Penny, as we hustled down the icy sidewalk.
“So? Zumba can wait,” she responded in a matter-of-fact tone. “We have to get a look at the scene of the crime. Marley, someone kidnapped that poor penguin, on Christmas Eve Eve!”
Her voice was muffled, thanks to the thick knit scarf that was wrapped around the lower portion of her face. Turkey, who was in his usual position in Penny’s messenger bag, had a knit cap on his little furry head. I was the only one with minimal extra layers. I’ve never been one to brace against the cold, and I preferred my tie-dyed hoodie to a jacket, though I did wear a vest over the top because it had a leather shoulder patch where my familiar, an owl named Skili, could land when she wanted to (which was rather rare; though we’re a familiar-witch pair, we both valued our alone time). My head was bare, and my long, black braid collected the few snowflakes that blew up from nearby drifts with every gust of wind.
“Wait, today is Christmas Eve Eve,” I said. “And the box of decorations was stolen yesterday at 5:15. So that means it was stolen on Christmas Eve Eve Eve.”
“Maybe we’d better just say three days before Christmas,” Penny said.
We were walking away from the library, where Zumba class was to be held, rather than toward it. I knew Penny wanted to take the long route so that we could look at the bank. But what good would it do? It had dumped snow all night, and then the walkways had been shoveled. It wasn’t like we were going to see the decoration thief's tracks.
“Who do you think did it?” I asked. I decided to give up on the idea of getting to class on time. Penny and I were going to be late, and that was that. It was better to just go with the flow rather than get myself worked up about it.
“I can think of a few suspects,” Penny said. “If Monique was serious about making Polly actually skate, then she was going to pose a major threat to the businesses in town that usually win the Chamber of Commerce’s Holiday Window Display Contest.”
I tried to remember who usually won. “Doesn’t first place usually go to the hardware store?” I said.
Penny nodded, and then secured her hat to her head as a gust of wind whipped around us. “For obvious reasons,” she said, once the wind had passed. “They have that crazy-cool train track set up, weaving around the little Santa’s Village display.”
“Right,” I said, remembering. “That one is totally cute.”
“And second runner up is always Bliss Hair Salon, for the angel with wings that move. Third prize usually goes to Hillcrest Market, for the ski hill with the chairlift that carries the little figurine skiers up the slope. Then they zip down it like they’re actually skiing.”
“I guess Monique was onto something with the moving parts idea,” I said. “It seems like the judges like to see that.”
“It adds a little extra flair,” Penny said.
“For sure,” I agreed, just as we reached the bank.
The Nugget Bank was located between Wag More Pet Supplies and an apartment building’s downstairs entryway. The two-story exterior was made of rough-cut sandstone in a dusky rose color. Wide stone steps led up to the double doors. The date 1892 was carved into a stone panel over the doors, and the whole entryway was surrounded by an elaborate sandstone archway supported with red granite columns. On the roofline far above, two gargoyle statues were visible, peering down over the sidewalk and doorway below, as if keeping watch over the bank.
“Those gargoyles have always creeped me out,” Penny said. “They look so lifelike, don’t they?”
“I’ve never paid much attention to them,” I admitted. I held my hand up to my brow, to shield my eyes from the winter sun. The two stone sculptures were pale gray, which didn’t match the rest of the bank’s color palette. In fact, they looked like an afterthought. “Aren’t gargoyles a feature of Gothic architecture?” I wondered aloud. “The rest of the building doesn’t look Gothic at all.”
“I have no clue,” Penny said. She got a spacey look about her, which meant she was listening to a telepathic message from Turkey. “Turkey says that the bank was constructed in the Richardson Romanesque style, but the gargoyles are definitely Gothic. He thinks they were added at a later date, but says he’ll have to research it.”
Turkey, Penny’s familiar, was a bit of a genius. I had no doubt that he’d find out when the gargoyles were added, if and when he put his mind to it. It didn’t seem urgent, though. We were in search of clues about a crime committed the night before, not interesting facts about our town’s architectural history.
I scanned the sidewalk in front of the bank’s double doors. “Monique was right there in front of the doors when the box of decorations was stolen,” I said. “Maybe an employee from Wag More came out really quickly, took the box, and then disappeared back inside.”
“Or someone from the apartment buildings,” Penny said.
“Or -- maybe Garreth didn’t feel like doing the project or ruining his new remote-control car, so he snuck up and hid the box before Monique noticed him.”
Penny scrunched up her nose, thinking. “That doesn’t sound likely,” she said after a minute. “Garreth is a nice guy, and he’d know how much the project meant to Monique -- and to their family income.”
“I’m just tossing out ideas,” I said.
She brightened up. “Brainstorming!” she said. “I like that. While we’re at it, I guess I’ll toss out the idea that anyone in the running for the best window display prize could have kidnapped Polly.”
“Or, it could have been one of Monique’s coworkers, who didn’t want to see her succeed,” I said.
“That would be so mean!” Penny frowned. “But it’s a good point. Yikes. We just named a lot of people with possible motivation to make that box disappear, didn’t we?”
“Maybe motive isn’t the place to start,” I said. I turned and looked out at the street and the buildings across the way. “It would take us too long to talk to everyone. What if we focused on finding a witness, instead?” I pointed to the building directly across from the bank. “Doesn't Bess live in that apartment?”
“She does!” Penny said excitedly.
“And doesn’t Bess usually go to Zumba?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but I wanted Penny to hop on my train of thought.
“Yes!” she said. She started hustling across the street, at an angle, heading for the library. “Let’s go, Mar! We’ll catch Bess after class, and ask her some questions while she still has that post-exercise glow. Come on -- we’re going to be late!”
I laughed. “That’s what I’ve been telling you.”
We were definitely late to the party. We entered the library’s lobby, and I could hear muffled musi
c emanating from the activities room to our right. Penny stripped off her hat, mittens, jacket and snow boots, and then pulled on her pink leg warmers and a pair of tennis shoes she’d brought along. She tucked her winter clothing next to the wall and propped her messenger bag next to it. Turkey ducked his head down so he couldn’t be seen. I had no doubt that he was settling in for a nice lunch-time nap.
I changed up, too, so that I was ready to dance. The leg warmers were huge, and I had to pull them up over my knees to get them to stay up.
I led the way into the activities room and started bouncing along to the beat as I found a spot in the back row of attendees. Penny joined me, and Cora gave us a wave from the front of the room.
“Welcome, girls!” she shouted out above the music. She was doing a shimmy move to the right and then the left. Penny mirrored it, while I started doing my own thing. I love to dance, but not in the exact sequence that Cora teaches in her classes. I prefer to make my moves up as I go.
A sweaty forty-five minutes later, as the session wrapped up, I gave a warm smile in Bess’s direction. She was mopping her brow with a little blue towel and heading for the room’s exit. I motioned for Penny, and we met up with Bess in the library lobby, just as she was reaching for her fur-lined boots.
Bess is heavyset, with a halo of curls that have been dyed auburn to hide the gray. As the owner of Hillcrest’s only second-hand shop, she tends to dress in eclectic, stylish vintage outfits.
“Bess, do you have a minute?” I asked her.
She was sitting on a bench that lined one wall, fitting a boot over her thick sock. “Sure thing, sweetie,” she said. “Good class, wasn’t it?”
“The best!” Penny agreed.
Bess pulled on her other boot. “It feels good to work up a sweat, seeing as I’m going to go home and bake up cookies all afternoon. I’m making a plate to give to each of the businesses in town, so that tomorrow night everyone feels like a winner at the Christmas Eve Walk.” She shook her head. “I just don’t like to see us competing for a prize from the Chamber of Commerce this time of year. This holiday is about sharing, not competition, don't you think?”