by T. L. Haddix
“You expecting anything?”
“Not until later in the week,” she answered as they headed down the hall. “Hi. Can I help you?” she asked the man through the door.
“Yeah, I have a delivery for Stacy Kitchner.” He held up a yellow bill of lading. “Stove, refrigerator, dishwasher. Where do you want it?”
“Kitchner or Kirchner?” she asked as she unlocked the door and held out her hand. “Mind if I see that?”
The man glanced at the sheet before handing it to her. “Kirchner, I guess. Do you have old appliances that will need to be hauled off?”
The paper shook in Stacy’s hand, and she went pale. “What’s wrong?”
“This has my name, my address, but I didn’t order these. What in the world is going on?”
CHAPTER 10
THE LOOK ON THE DELIVERY man’s face spoke volumes. He clearly didn’t care whether or not she’d placed the order. He only wanted his bill of lading signed so he could leave. Unfortunately, that wasn’t about to happen. Feeling herself shift into investigation mode, she handed the sheet to Gordon.
“When was this order placed?” she asked.
“Yesterday afternoon. So do you have appliances for us to take back, or what?” The other delivery man was standing at the back of the truck, unwrapping the protective cardboard from the refrigerator.
“He needs to stop,” Stacy told the man on her porch. Roy, his name tag read. “I’m not accepting these, as I didn’t order them. I got my appliances from a place here in town.”
Roy frowned. “Lady, I don’t care who ordered them. This is the address on my delivery list, and this is where they’re going.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have said that,” Gordon muttered from behind her.
Stacy drew herself up to her full height. She whistled loudly. The sound drew the other man’s attention, and she motioned for him to come up to the porch. Roy threw up his hands and shook his head.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Look, all I—”
She held up her right hand, and her left hand moved to the hip where she usually carried a gun. “You need to calm down, and take a step back. Right now.” The authoritative ring in her tone got his attention, but he was still practically vibrating with attitude. Her next words took care of that as the second man joined them.
“I’m Stacy Kirchner. I’m a detective with the Olman County Sheriff’s Department. This is my house. That’s my name on this bill of lading, but I did not order those appliances. Furthermore, I am not accepting delivery of them. That’s not open for debate. Do you understand me?”
Roy swallowed, and when he spoke, his tone was much more respectful than before. “If I take those back without delivering them, I’ll get charged a penalty.”
Stacy shook her head. “No. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Now, how do we find out who ordered these?”
“Can I see the paper?” he asked. Gordon handed it to him, and he studied it for a second. “The salesman was Bill Jacobs. You can call the store, and they’ll be able to get him for you.”
“You’re from Madison?” Gordon pulled his phone off his belt and gave it to Stacy.
“Yeah.”
The small town was about an hour’s drive from Leroy, and Stacy realized that, depending on what time the appliances had been purchased, she might have a solid alibi. She took the bill back from Roy and punched in the number on the paper.
“Do you guys want something cold to drink while we sort this out?” she asked, looking at Gordon. “If you don’t mind taking care of them while I—Yes, is Bill Jacobs available?”
The woman who’d answered the phone told her that he wasn’t. “He won’t be back in until this weekend. Is there someone else who can help you?”
Stacy explained the situation. There was shocked silence on the other end of the call. “Let me get the sales manager for you.” The woman put her on hold, and Stacy walked down to the other end of the porch.
“You two can have a seat on the swing if you want. Hopefully, this won’t take long.” She was gratified to see that all the piss and vinegar had gone out of Roy as he and the other man sat down. Within seconds, the sales manager was on the line.
“This is Joe Morrison. Who am I speaking with?”
“Detective Stacy Kirchner, Olman County Sheriff’s Department. Your guys just attempted a delivery at my house that I didn’t order, and I guess the salesman who handled the transaction isn’t in today.”
“Okay.” He drew the word out. “And you’re sure you didn’t place the order?”
Stacy took a slow breath before she answered. “Yes, I am sure I didn’t place the order. I would appreciate it if you could tell me what time yesterday the transaction took place.”
“Well, if you didn’t place the order, I’m not sure I can do that. Now, if you admit to placing the order, I can answer whatever questions you have.” The man’s tone was smug, and Stacy held the phone away from her ear, looking at it in disbelief. Gordon returned to the porch with bottles of water for the men, and when he saw her face, he shook his head and muttered under his breath about people never learning.
Her temper well and truly lit, Stacy brought the phone back to her ear. “Mr. Morrison. Are you the store manager or just the sales manager?”
“Sales. The store manager is out to lunch right now. I’m afraid he won’t be back for another hour or so, anyhow. I’m all you have.”
“I see. Okay, then here is what we’re going to do. I’m going to send these nice young men back to Madison with these appliances I did not order. You and your store are not going to charge them a return fee, as this is not their fault. And I will be in this afternoon to talk to your store manager, in person, who is hopefully more helpful than you are. Because if he isn’t, I’ll have to get really, really nasty about this whole thing. Search warrants, lots of police cruisers in your parking lot, that sort of thing.”
The man blustered. “You can’t do that. Listen, lady—”
Stacy was tired of arguing. “I can do that, and I will. Depending on how this person paid for these appliances, we could be looking at identity theft.”
“Bullshit. Do you know how often people like you call in, trying to bilk us out of things? You’re probably no more a cop than I am. So, no dice, lady. You’ll have to do better than that.”
The man’s tirade was audible to the others on the porch, and she didn’t even have him on speaker. “Is he really this stupid?” Stacy asked Roy, who nodded.
“Yeah. He is. He went through a nasty divorce recently and hates women right now. I have the manager’s cell phone number. Want me to call him?”
“Please. Mr. Morrison, I’m going to hang up now.” Without waiting for the man’s response, she ended the call and returned the phone to Gordon. She walked back to the opposite end of the porch and stared at the truck in the driveway, trying to rein in her temper.
“I have Mr. Sanders for you, ma’am,” Roy said.
Stacy hurried to meet him and took his phone. “Hello?”
“This is Greg Sanders. Roy tells me you’ve got a bit of a problem.”
“You could say that, yes.” She explained again, as well as telling the man about Morrison’s remarks.
“I am so sorry, Detective. I’m heading back in now and should be at the store in about ten minutes. I’ll look into this as soon as I get there. Are you driving up?”
“Yes. I’m about an hour away, and it’s probably going to be closer to ninety minutes before I can get there.”
“I’ll get everything I can ready for you. Again, I am so very sorry this has happened. We’ll get it figured out.”
“Thank you. Oh, and one more thing. I want to make sure these delivery guys don’t get in trouble for this. It isn’t their fault this has happened.”
“They won’t. We’ll see you shortly.”
Stacy gave the phone back to Roy. “You guys are good to go. I don’t think he’s going to penalize you, but if he does, contact me at th
e sheriff’s department here in Olman County. I’ll take care of it.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll load back up.” They stood and started down the steps. Roy turned back to her. “I’m sorry I got short with you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He nodded, and she and Gordon watched as they loaded the truck and left. Only after they’d pulled out of the driveway did she let out the breath she’d been holding.
“Your theory about the malicious prankster? It isn’t looking so improbable now,” she told Gordon softly.
“I’m sorry.” He touched her shoulder. “How can I help?”
“Will you go with me to Madison? I’ll need to call Wyatt, let him know what’s going on. And I have to get changed into my work clothes. I can’t go in there looking like this.” She glanced at her loose T-shirt and capri pants.
“Why don’t I call Wyatt while you get cleaned up?”
Stacy hesitated, but only briefly. “Okay, I’d appreciate it.”
Inside, she took a three-minute shower, taking pains to not get her hair wet because she wouldn’t have time to dry it.
As annoying as it was to have to drop everything and go to Madison, at least she was relatively certain that she wasn’t losing her mind. Whoever was behind these pranks had finally messed up. Stacy could prove where she was when the appliances were ordered, and she could prove she wasn’t behind the order. Her relief was immense. She knew better than to count her chickens too soon, but she was hopeful that the prankster would be revealed. The truth couldn’t come soon enough for her.
Gordon shared Stacy’s relief as he called Wyatt. While they talked, he cleaned up the kitchen so they could let Chloe out of the bedroom.
“So these guys just showed up with kitchen appliances? And it wasn’t a mix-up in the order, and they just delivered things early?” Wyatt asked.
“No, she said she got hers from here in town. I’ve been trying to get her to believe something’s going on, but she’s been so stubborn about it. I think this might have opened her eyes.”
Wyatt was quiet, and Gordon suspected the older man was rubbing his face, as was his habit when he was frustrated. “How’d you find out about everything that’s been going on if she doesn’t believe it’s a problem?”
“Ethan and Beth. And Stacy knows it’s a problem.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure the bathroom door was still closed. “She’s been thinking she’s losing her mind. I’m betting that’s what the person behind this wants.”
“Well, we need to have a sit down, that’s for sure. You all are heading to Madison?”
“As soon as she gets cleaned up. We’ve been patching holes and smoothing drywall today.”
“Let’s do this, then. I’ll get up with Ethan, see if we can all get together this evening. Do the two of you have plans?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Gordon replied. Stacy came out of the bathroom, and he asked Wyatt to hold on. “He wants to know if we have plans this evening.”
“No, not really. I was going to buy your dinner.”
“Okay. Oh, I took care of things in the kitchen, so you can release the prisoner.” He went back to Wyatt. “We’re free.”
“Who’s the prisoner?”
“Chloe. She’s been locked in the bedroom for safety.”
“I see. About this evening, I’ll let you know when and where. Call me if you need to when you get to Madison.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll feed Chloe,” Stacy said as she came out of her bedroom, gun and badge in hand.
“Done. Water, too.” Gordon watched as she threaded her belt through the slots on the gun’s holster, followed by her badge in front. The scene was intimate, and he had to stop himself from reaching out to her. “If you don’t mind, we can swing by my condo on the way out of town, and I’ll clean up.”
“That’s fine. Thanks for doing this.”
They didn’t say much on the drive up to Madison. They took Gordon’s car since Stacy’s was still full of supplies. The store, located on the small town’s main drag, was easy enough to find. When they went in and asked for the manager, the sales clerk fetched him immediately. To Gordon’s disgruntlement, the man was around Stacy’s age, physically fit, and way too friendly toward her.
“I am so sorry this happened,” he told them, focusing his attention on Stacy. “Come on back to my office. I pulled the video from yesterday, but it doesn’t tell us much. The woman seems to know where all the cameras are in the store, and she keeps her back to them.”
“Have you gotten in touch with the salesman?” Stacy asked as they sat down in front of his desk.
“No. He had a family emergency. His mother-in-law passed away last night. And he’s out of touch until the weekend. I’m sorry.” Sanders sat behind his desk and pulled up a program on his computer. “Here’s the footage. It’s not the best quality.” He turned his monitor so that they could see it. The video was jerky and grainy, and all they could tell about the woman was that she had dark hair shorter than Stacy’s.
“Do you recognize her?” Gordon asked.
“I don’t. What time was she here?” she asked Sanders.
“She came in about three-thirty and left about four. And unfortunately, she paid cash for everything.”
Gordon whistled. “That had to be quite a chunk of change to plunk down.”
“Not as much as you might think. She chose all low-end items, so it only came to about a thousand dollars.”
“Still, that’s quite the expensive prank. Unless she’s planning on coming in and getting a refund, and I can’t imagine that she is,” Stacy mused. “She’d have to know that we’d be onto her for this. Any chance you can get us a copy of that surveillance footage?”
He popped open his computer’s CD drive. “As a matter of fact, I burned a copy before you got here.” He put it in a media envelope and handed it to her. “So you don’t think we’re dealing with identity theft?”
“No. If it were, she’d probably have tried to use a stolen credit card or apply for store credit. Did you check to see if she did that?”
“I did. There’s nothing here. And every credit app we take has to go through the main computer system, so I’d know if there was.”
“Did she have to sign anything to complete the order?”
“No.”
Gordon looked at Stacy, whose face was carefully neutral. “What now?”
“There isn’t really anything else we can do. I want to speak to your salesman when he gets back.” She stood. Gordon and Sanders followed suit, and they left his office.
“I’ll arrange it. Here’s my card,” the manager said. “Call me if you need anything else. Do you have a card?”
Stacy’s smile was polite. “No, I’m actually out. You can call the sheriff’s department, though, and leave a message. They’ll get it to me.” She held her hand out to shake, and she tensed as the man made contact. Sanders shook hands with Gordon, and after a few more words, they left.
Once they were in Gordon’s car, he was surprised to see her grimace. She was holding her hand out carefully, digging in her purse with her left hand. She’d left the bag in the car when they went inside. He immediately thought of her wrist injury.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“What? No. Nothing like that. His cologne’s a little strong, that’s all.” She wrestled out a package of wet wipes, and Gordon took it. He opened it and handed her a towelette. While she cleaned her hand, he reached behind her seat to grab a plastic bag from the floorboard.
“Here, you can put it in that when you’re done.”
“Thanks. So that wasn’t as informative as we thought it would be. Damn it.” She crumpled the towel and put it in the bag, then nervously twisted the plastic around the wipe. “Did she look familiar to you at all?”
Gordon didn’t answer right away, thinking as he pulled out onto the road. “Not to avoid the question, but why don’t we get something to eat while we’re here?
You tell me where to go.”
Stacy directed him to the historic district down the hill.
“She looked familiar, yes. But I can’t figure out why. I don’t think I’ve seen her before, but she looked familiar. Does that make sense?” Gordon said.
“Unfortunately, it does. I thought the same thing. That doesn’t help us, though.”
Gordon was more optimistic. “I think it does. We can take the footage to Wyatt and see what he thinks. And we have proof now that this is more than a joke. Please tell me you believe that?”
He could tell she was still a little doubtful, but she did concede his point. “I can’t ignore what’s in front of me.” They’d reached Main Street, and she directed him to park near a small cafe. “They’re not as good as The Brown Bag, but they make a mean grilled chicken sandwich.”
When he came around to meet her on the sidewalk, he held out his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Stacy took it. Gordon watched her closely to see if she would tense the way she had with Sanders, but she seemed to relax.
“We’ll figure this out.”
Her tone was wistful. “You think so?”
“I do. But right now, let’s worry about getting some food. Things always look better on a full stomach.”
She shook her head, but smiled, and Gordon squeezed her hand.
“Do they, now?”
“Proven fact, Detective. Stick with me, and I’ll teach you all the tricks I know.”
Her laugh must have surprised her, because she clapped a hand over her mouth. “You’re incorrigible. Do you know that?” she asked when she’d recovered, her eyes still full of mirth.
Gordon tried to look innocent. “I might have heard that once or twice.”
“I’ll bet you have.”
Instead of letting go of his hand, she twisted her arm so that it was behind her back and held on. That small move sent a jolt of pure happiness through him. It was a feeling of contentment he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
CHAPTER 11