Wolfe in Shepherd's Clothing

by David Gane

  And, surprisingly enough, she agrees but decides to make a morning out of it, starting with the farmers’ market downtown.

  We call to let Gekas know our plans but only get her voicemail, so we leave a message. Hopefully, she won’t freak out that we’re going to walk around in a pack in a couple of very public places, but it wouldn’t surprise me if we “happen” to bump into her or her officers while we’re out.

  We get to the farmers’ market early—there’s a chill in the spring air and some of the booths are still getting set up—but Mom and Dad have an agenda and beeline for the vegetable trucks from the local farms.

  “Mr. S., the prices on the produce trucks at the other end of the market are way cheaper than here,” Charlie says in front of the local sellers.

  It’s kind of obnoxious.

  “Yes, but they’re from BC. These are practically grown in our backyard.”

  “Fine,” Charlie relents, assessing the cabbages and potatoes Dad already has in his basket. “At least barter them down a little!”

  Before he can utter another insult, Dad indicates an Ethiopian food truck selling chechebsa, a breakfast dish that Charlie’s intrigued by. When he goes off to get some, both my parents and the seller breathe a little easier and the transaction runs smoothly from there.

  We continue down the rows of shops, hunting though tables full of jams and large tents filled with fruit, as well as a little hippy van whose open doors reveal a display of braided necklaces and other handmade art. I’m sure it’s both the proprietors’ store and their home.

  Charlie buys some honey for Dad from a beekeeper and a set of handcrafted dangling earrings for Mom.

  “You know you don’t need to buy them anything,” I say.

  “What else am I going to do with my money?” Charlie asks, shovelling in the last spoonful of his Ethiopian breakfast.

  “I don’t know. Save it? Buy some scratch-and-wins?”

  “Hey, share the wealth, I always say.” When I look at him, perplexed, he adds, “Just because I lived in trailer-park squalor doesn’t mean I didn’t invest a little. Not my fault that Mom had her addictions. I tried my best.”

  I never know how to proceed after Charlie opens the door a crack on his personal life—especially when he and I are spending Saturday morning out with my parents at the farmers’ market, checking out craft beer and artisanal cupcakes.

  Afterwards, the four of us head to the mall.

  I’m trying to figure out how to get some time on our own, hoping Charlie’s got a plan already worked out, but my parents make it easy on us.

  “Okay, you’ve got half an hour to do your shopping,” Mom says.

  Charlie balks. “I can’t possibly get everything done in that short a time. How about an hour?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Forty-five?”

  “Thirty.”

  Charlie grins. “All right. Sounds fair, boss lady!”

  As my parents set off, I turn to Charlie. “Take me to your people.”

  chapter 92

  Charlie’s people, of course, are the mall’s security guards.

  He guides me down a grey cindercrete hallway with several doors that lead to the back rooms of the mall’s stores. Some of them are propped open; it’d be pretty easy for someone to just grab a box of stuff from a stockroom shelf and take off. I’m quite certain I’d never have even considered such a thing until I started hanging around Charlie.

  We wind down several sets of stairs at the end of the hall until we pop out on the other side of the mall near the parking garage. Charlie stops at a nondescript door and knocks.

  “Who is it?” comes a voice from the other side.

  “Rocky Raccoon,” Charlie replies.

  I don’t question this, knowing both his love for mystery and for weird cultural references.

  “Just a sec.” A lock and deadbolt click one after the other, and the door swings open to reveal a skinny, middle-aged guy with short blond hair, and a scruffy moustache and beard. “Hola, amigo.”

  Charlie introduces us. “Anthony, Brett. Brett, Anthony.”

  I nod hello as Brett guides us into the room then secures the door behind us. “You can never be too careful. People seem fascinated with trying to get in here.”

  I look around and realize why. A wall of monitors spy on almost every nook and cranny of the mall. Every entrance, hallway, walkway, galleria, and public space is covered. I’m sure if I looked carefully enough, I’d be able to spot my folks.

  “So, what can I do for you?” Brett asks.

  “I’m trying to track down some information about a guy,” Charlie says.

  “And what’s in it for me?”

  Almost every relationship in Charlie’s life seems to be a transaction. I can’t help but wonder what bargain I’ve unknowingly struck with him.

  Charlie starts to rattle off the possibilities: “Two tickets to the upcoming concert?”

  “Nope. Don’t like country.”

  “4K 50-inch TV?”

  “Tempting, but no.”

  “Might be some jobs opening up with Stonecreek Security.”

  “Guaranteed?”

  Charlie shakes his head.

  “Come on, man. You’re holding back. You know what I want.”

  “Fine.” Charlie grabs a notepad and pen from the desk and writes down a ten-digit number.

  This immediately piques Brett’s interest. “Really? Is that what I think it is?”

  Charlie nods.

  I’m not sure if he’ll ever tell me what the number means, but it doesn’t matter.

  Brett tears the sheet off, folds it up and sticks it in his pocket. “Shit, man, thank you. Yeah, go ahead, ask away. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  I pull out my phone and bring up a picture of Mike. “Do you recognize him?”

  “He looks familiar, but I couldn’t tell you from when or where.”

  “He probably hung around the sandwich shop.”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Uhh, the ladies are cute there,” he says like I’m an idiot. “And that Haley’s always giving me extra toppings.” He studies Mike’s image again. “Yeah, I think I remember seeing him hanging around when she was working.”

  “Or maybe Autumn?” I add.

  “Oof,” he mutters. “Now, there was a piece of work. Always with the mind games.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask again.

  “Buddy of mine tried to date her and it was all hot and cold. He could never figure out where she was coming from.”

  Interesting but not immediately useful. I think of something that is. “Do you have any of the tapes from the food court the Wednesday before last, say sometime just after 3:30 p.m.?”

  Brett smiles. “Of course I do.”

  chapter 93

  Brett cues up the footage on his computer and hits play. All the screens flicker on, showing us that moment in time across the whole mall, nearly a week and a half ago.

  A monitor in the top row shows the food court, full of people. Below it and to the right is a closer view, and I can clearly see the sandwich shop, Fresh Buns. Three people stand behind the counter.

  “Can you get closer?” Charlie asks.

  “Like ‘zoom and enhance’?” Brett laughs. “You’ve been watching too many movies, son.”

  “Can you tell who’s working?” I ask.

  He leans in and squints at the pixelated image. “Nope. Kind of looks like Haley, but I can’t be sure.”

  I continue staring at the screen. Customers walk up, order, and wait. Eventually, they get their food and move on. I patiently watch for my friend.

  “I can double the speed. You’ll still be able to tell who comes and goes.”

  “Sure.�
��

  He twists a dial and the figures on the screen jump ahead, rushing in and out of the frame, scurrying back and forth like ants.

  “Stop!” I shout.

  Brett hits a button.

  “Go back, but slowly.”

  The bank of monitors flashes, reversing in ten-second skips.

  “Okay,” I say. “Back maybe another minute? Stop!”

  There, standing at the counter of the sandwich shop, is Mike. Seeing him, alive and well, is a gut-punch.

  “Go forward,” Charlie says. “Slowly.”

  Mike stands at the counter, rocking back and forth on his feet, but he doesn’t stay long before moving off to the left.

  “Go back again,” Charlie says.

  I look over at him. “Why, what did you see?”

  He doesn’t answer, only watches the screen intently. “Can you loop a few seconds?”

  Brett smiles. “Absolutely. This thing can do it all—”

  Charlie interrupts, “Go to when the guy shows up and loop when I tell you.”

  Brett seems a bit miffed by the brusque request, but he must be used to it because he does as he’s told.

  “Okay, right there.”

  All the screens replay thirty seconds of the past in miniature, over and over.

  “You see it, Shepherd?” Charlie asks, finally, directing me to two places on the screen.

  I don’t at first, then it becomes clear. Mike does a kind of wave, almost pointing to the right. And a shadow bobs past the doorway in the back of the sandwich shop.

  “A fourth employee?” I ask.

  “Let it run, Brett,” Charlie asks, this time in a much kinder voice. He points to the monitor displaying a wide shot of the food court.

  Now I can see Mike clearly: he’s walking away from the restaurant toward the right of the screen. Just before he steps out of frame, a door opens and he disappears through it.

  What are you up to, Mike?

  Charlie asks, “Any monitors in that hallway?”

  Brett directs us to one on the bottom right. Mike and a girl wearing a Fresh Buns ball cap are walking away from the camera down the cindercrete hallway.

  “Where does it go?”

  Brett indicates a couple of monitors. “There’s a few exits. This one …,” we watch a door that looks like it leads out to the parking garage, but no one comes through it, “… now, this one,” a second door opens to the street. Again nothing. “And, finally, this one.” The last one exits onto an alley between two buildings. A dumpster blocks half the view.

  The door swings open, and Mike and the mysterious stranger step out, their backs to the camera.

  “Where’s that alley?”

  “Loading zone behind the department store. Leads to staff parking. A lot of crazy shit happens back there.”

  I scan the monitors, searching for another viewpoint. “And where’s the camera?”

  “There isn’t one,” Brett says. “Beyond my jurisdiction.” Like he’s some beat cop.

  “Go back ten seconds,” I say, needing to be sure of what I saw.

  Brett rewinds, but Charlie is already whispering, “Nice, Shepherd.”

  The video plays and we both see it. For a split-second, as she walks through door into the parking lot, the Fresh Buns girl turns and we can see her face clearly.

  It’s Autumn.

  chapter 94

  We leave Brett and his security monitors and walk back upstairs.

  “So, she did lie to us,” I say.

  “Yeah, but why? What’s she hiding?” Charlie asks.

  Autumn likes trouble, and I’m worried that happy-go-lucky Mike got himself caught up in something ugly and complicated.

  I want to talk to Charlie about it more, but he shushes me. “It’s socks and skivvies time, Shepherd.”

  We walk into the main part of the mall. I start for the department store, but Charlie doesn’t follow.

  “What? You don’t like this place?” I ask.

  “Hell, no.” He takes me next door to an outdoor sporting goods store. “You might pay a little more here, but this place offers clothes with the comfort and fit that you should expect, and the durability and temperature control that you should demand.” He opens a package and pulls out a pair of boxer briefs. “Now, feel the inside of that. How smooth it is. No friction there! And look at that crotch! Cut and stitched and shaped to give your—”

  “Okay, enough!” I never thought I’d be getting underwear advice from this guy.

  “I’m only saying you get solid support.”

  “Wonderful. Can you just pay for your magic drawers so we can go?”

  “But I haven’t told you about the socks.”

  “Charlie, please.”

  “Fine.”

  Charlie grabs what he needs and takes it to the counter. The guy at the till looks at the ripped-open underwear box.

  “Yeah, I found it like that. Can I get a discount?”

  chapter 95

  After Charlie gets ten percent off, we travel up the escalator to meet my folks.

  “Mind if we eat in the food court today?” I ask them.

  Mom looks at the rows of greasy food joints and I can tell she’s about to say no, when Dad interrupts her. “It’s been forever since I had a burger and a shake.”

  I see Mom’s disappointment, but Charlie says, “Mrs. S., if you’re looking for something a little healthier, try the Thai place. Ask for the vegetarian sauce and bean sprouts instead of rice. Or, if you want to skip healthy and try some adventure, ask for meekati or pad kee mao. They’re not on the menu but they’ll know what to do.”

  She’s intrigued by Charlie’s suggestions, and she and Dad go off to order their individual lunches.

  Charlie looks over at me. “Let me guess: Fresh Buns?”

  “Of course.”

  chapter 96

  I don’t recognize the girl behind the counter at Fresh Buns. Her name tag reads BECKIE. Charlie and I order a couple of sandwiches anyway, and Beckie looks over her shoulder to call out, “Need some help up here!”

  Haley comes from the back, carrying a container of lettuce, and as soon as she sees me, I think she’s going to burst into tears. “Tony, I’m so, so sorry about Mike. I saw you at the funeral, but I just couldn’t—”

  She’s more emotional than I would’ve expected. I always assumed she didn’t really care about Mike; maybe I was wrong.

  I glance at Beckie before responding, but she’s out of earshot making our sandwiches. “That’s actually why I’m here, Haley. I heard Mike came by here last week. Just wondering if you or anyone saw him?”

  Fresh tears start to stream, and she puts the container down to grab a napkin.

  “I’m sorry to bring it up,” I say gently. “But it’s important.”

  “Me, Beckie, and Lorna were here,” she says, wiping her eyes.

  “That’s it?”

  She nods.

  That doesn’t make sense, though; we saw at least four of them on the security footage.

  Well aware I might be stepping into a minefield, I ask as casually as I can, “How about Autumn? Was she working?”

  Haley’s face distorts, and her tears stop immediately. She sneers in disgust. “Yeah, she was here. But not to work. Just to pick up her last cheque.”

  “Oh?”

  Haley glances at Beckie, who hands us our sandwiches and goes to serve another customer, before lowering her voice and leaning toward me and Charlie. “I got her fired.” It seems like she might leave it there, but then she begins defending herself. “She was crazy, okay? Always bringing drama to work. She’d hit on older married men—even customers!—then try to sleep with your boyfriend. One minute she’d pretend to be your friend, the next, she’d backstab you. ”

  Wow! Autumn really w
as all about the chaos.

  “And Mike?” I ask, and again sadness crosses Haley’s face.

  “Oh, that poor boy.” There is genuine care in her voice. “She strung him along, all right.”

  “What do you mean by that, exactly?” Charlie asks.

  She gives us a sheepish look. “Look, when he first started coming around, I could tell he was interested in me, but I had a boyfriend. Then we broke up and I was interested, but Autumn got her hooks in him.” Haley’s tone changes. “When I ended up with someone else, she dropped Mike and went after my new guy.”

  Talking about Autumn has made her irate. “Plus, she was always stealing my shifts, doing whatever she could to make my life a living hell. And I liked Mike—I really did,” she adds, “but he wasn’t interested in long-term so it wasn’t worth all the aggravation.”

  “And so you got Autumn fired.”

  “Yeah. I was going to quit—I mean, I like the job, but I hated her—except my boss liked me more and got rid of Autumn so I’d stay.”

  I’m starting to realize what happened—at least part of it. Autumn thought Haley was interested in Mike again and so she went after him once more. When he stopped by the sandwich shop, she did whatever she could to piss Haley off.

  “You said Autumn flirted with older men too?” Charlie asks.

  Haley rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she was pretty disgusting.”

  “She sleep with any of them?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. Wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “Any of them get attached?”

  “A few, maybe, but they usually came to their senses eventually.”

  Charlie’s quick. “But not always?”

  She sighs. “When I first started, there was this one older guy who came around all the time. Autumn seemed interested—so gross—but then one day, she quit talking about him.”

  Haley pauses, looking out at the food court. I’m guessing Mom and Dad have found themselves a table out there in the sea of people. “Turns out, though, he was still showing up.”

  She points to a table. “He’d sit over in that corner, just watching us, and when we realized he was there, he’d move somewhere else. And when we figured that out, he’d change where he sat, when he showed up, even how he looked. But we were sure it was him.”