by Hillary Avis
So the coupons were never handed out. Bethany shot Olive a look, but Olive studiously ignored her. “I’ll get new ones to you first thing in the morning. I might not have cookies available until next week, but at least you’ll have something to hand out at the get-together tomorrow.”
Sandy scurried around the reference desk to squeeze Olive in a huge bear hug. “Oh, you’re an angel. I was out of my mind trying to figure out what to do.”
Olive’s cheeks pinkened as she patted Sandy on the back. “There, there. Everything always works out.”
“I hope that’s true,” Bethany murmured under her breath, thinking of the wedding bid she’d submitted. Had the bride decided which caterer to hire yet? Probably, for such a short-notice event. She shifted from foot-to-foot impatiently.
Olive nodded goodbye to Sandy, asked, “Ready to go?”
“Yeah. I should call Charley and tell her about the coupons. After I talk to her, can you drop me at the Mouse Clique?”
“Is that the internet café on Sixth?”
“Mhm. I need to check my email to see if I got the gig.”
Olive pushed open the front door of the library and held it for Bethany. “I’ll take you to my house, then. I just can’t stomach letting you pay a dollar per minute to do your business. It’s highway robbery if you ask me!”
“You’re too nice.” Bethany flashed a grateful smile as she found Charley in her Contacts list and selected her number. As she waited for her to pick up, she noticed the kids were back and had resumed skateboarding in the alley. Both the purple-haired girl and the freckled boy were practicing rail slides with a group of their friends.
“Perez,” Charley answered.
“Hey, it’s Bethany. You know the kids who were acting weird about the burglary? Well, I’m looking at them right now. Should I go ask their names?”
“No! Stay there, keep an eye on them. Where are you?”
“Library.”
“On my way. Don’t move. If the kids leave, don’t follow them—if they’re involved in the burglaries, they could be dangerous.” Charley hung up, and Bethany smiled apologetically at Olive.
“Do you mind waiting? Charley wants me to stay until she gets here.”
Olive bit her lip and glanced at her watch. “I need to get home soon to make dinner and get those coupons printed and cut. How long do you think it’ll be?”
Bethany winced. “No idea. I have to ID the kids and then maybe Charley will want to take a statement? You should just go. I’ll have Charley drop me at the Mouse Clique instead, or at least take me back to my bike so I can ride over.”
“Fat chance I’m leaving you here alone with these juvenile delinquents.” Olive gripped her purse like a shield and glared in the direction of the alley. “I’ll at least wait until you have someone else here to watch your back.”
“I thought you said they were just enthusiastic readers!”
“Well, now we know different, don’t we? Lying little thieves.”
It wasn’t long until Bethany heard a police siren, and moments later Charley pulled into the library parking lot, blue lights flashing behind the grill of her unmarked police car. The instant they saw the lights, the skateboarders mounted their boards and pushed off as fast as they could go, scattering into the dusk. Bethany’s first improbable urge was to run after them, but they had a huge head start—plus wheels—so it was pointless. She’d never catch them. Charley got out and slammed her hand on the hood of her car.
“Can’t you follow in your car?” Olive asked.
“Which kids?” Charley asked urgently, and flicked on her car’s spotlight to illuminate the alley. Bethany turned to point out the purple-haired girl, but she was long gone. The alley was empty.
“Oh dear,” Olive said. “I’m so sorry.”
Shaking her head, Charley crossed her arms and leaned up against the cruiser. “No wonder I can’t crack this case. I just keep wasting my time chasing ghosts!”
“It’s not a waste of time for you to come out here, though. Olive and I found out something about the case from the librarian.”
Charley raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me it’s the names and home addresses of the kids?”
Bethany shook her head. “You know the prize box that was stolen from the library? It was full of free cookie coupons that Olive donated. And get this—when I was working at the Honor Roll on Monday, the skateboarders turned in some of the coupons.”
“So? Maybe they already got their prizes.”
“That’s why we came to the library, to find out. We asked Sandy Nakamura, the one in charge of the summer reading program, and she says she didn’t distribute any of the prizes yet. So now we know for sure that the kids are involved in the burglary somehow!”
Charley let out a frustrated sigh. “That doesn’t prove anything. They could have found the coupons in the trash somewhere.” Her shoulders slumped. “Just go home, Bethany.”
Olive put her hand on Bethany’s elbow. “I should really get going anyway, hon.”
Bethany nodded absentmindedly, watching Charley. Her friend’s face was grim and hopeless. She couldn’t leave her like this. “Go ahead without me. Thanks for everything, Olive.”
“But your email!” Olive protested. “You have to know whether or not you got the job!”
“Charley will let me check on her laptop, won’t you, Charley?” Bethany batted her eyelashes.
“What? Fine,” Charley muttered.
“Well. I wish I could say I’ll see you tomorrow, but I can’t reopen the Honor Roll until I’m sure the mice are gone.” Olive eyes welled, and Bethany’s stomach did a sympathetic flip. She knew more than anyone what it felt like to have a dream flounder and fail.
“You’ll be open again in no time, you’ll see.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, wanting to believe the words.
Olive smiled wanly as she opened the door of her station wagon. “Good night, girls. And good luck.”
Charley leaned against the cruiser, staring at the deepening dusk where the skateboarders had disappeared into the labyrinth of alleys that crisscrossed downtown Newbridge. She shook her head. “My career is over.”
“Stop it. This is just a setback.” Bethany stepped in front of Charley and tried to make eye contact to reassure her, but Charley turned aside and kept her gaze fixed on the horizon.
“I’m not being dramatic. My probationary period is up in three weeks. If I don’t solve this case by then, I can say adios to my detective badge. It’s back to the street beat. I’m trying to run down every lead, but I can’t even catch these little kids.”
Bethany leaned up against the car next to Charley just as the street lamps the lined the library parking lot blinked on. “Well, you’re talking to a classically trained chef who can’t even keep a bakery counter job, so you know I sympathize. We’re both going to make it, though. We just have to be sharks, you know? Hang on with our teeth. We are going to hunt down those little twerps and find out what they know.”
Charley looked over at her and grinned. “We?”
“Fine, you. I’ll stick to hunting down canape picks and champagne flutes. Speaking of catering, how about that laptop?”
Charley retrieved it from the passenger seat and logged in. “I’m only letting you do this because you rocked that pep talk.”
Bethany mock-curtsied, and then grabbed the computer, scrolling through her new messages until she found the reply to her wedding bid. Replies, actually. Bethany scanned them, snapped the laptop shut, and handed it back to Charley without a word.
“Any luck?”
Bethany shook her head, choking back her disappointment. “It’s a big fat no. She emailed a question about the menu and I missed it, and then a couple hours later she declined the bid, saying she needed a caterer who was more responsive. And she’s right. She does.”
Charley frowned. “She needs a good cook, not a good emailer. You should write back and plead your case! Be a shark!”
“She
needs someone she can count on to deliver for the biggest day of her life! And I’m just not that person right now. I couldn’t even reply to an email in a timely fashion.” Bethany’s chin trembled, her tears threatening to spill over. “Guess it’s back to the job hunt.”
“Nah, no time for that. We are going to hunt some junior high kids.”
“We?”
“Yep. We. They may have stolen from the library, but they are not going to steal our lives from us.”
Chapter 6
Café Sabine
CHARLEY LOOKED UP FROM Café Sabine’s menu. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Soup is the only thing under twenty bucks.” Bethany reached across the table and pointed to the line on the menu.
“Let’s split it.” Charley grabbed a roll from the bread basket and crammed it in her mouth just as the waiter came to take their order. He was a tall, thin, pale man with a black mustache that looked like it’d be drawn on with a dry erase marker.
“What’s your pleasure, mademoiselles?”
“We’ll have the lobster bisque and an extra bowl,” Bethany said. The waiter paused, eyebrows raised and mustache quivering, waiting for the rest of the order. Bethany smiled ingratiatingly. “And more bread.”
The waiter’s expression darkened, and he stalked off to the kitchen.
“At least the bread is free,” Charley said with her mouth full, just as Kimmy rounded the bar from the kitchen.
“Olive and Bethany baked that bread this morning.” Kimmy planted a kiss on the top of Charley’s head and then dropped into a seat at their table. “I thought you might be out here.”
“How’d you guess?” Charley grinned.
“Just had a hunch that my favorite impoverished duo was in the café when Thierry complained about somebody splitting a bowl of soup. What’re you doing here?”
Bethany leaned forward so the tables nearby wouldn’t overhear. “The library computers were stolen last night, and some kids might know something about it. We’re trying to figure out who they are.”
“How’re you going to do that if they’re just kids? It’s not like you can pass around their mugshots.”
Charley buttered another roll like her life depended on it, laying the butter on both sides of the bread in thick swipes. “Bethany has developed an elaborate coupon-based system of criminal investigation. Very cutting edge. I’m just following her lead.” She smirked at Bethany and popped a piece of the bread in her mouth.
“Those coupons are the best clue we have! The kids came into the—eek!” Bethany leaped back from the table, knocking over her chair. All the diners in their section turned to see the commotion, and Thierry the waiter glowered at Bethany from across the room. Bethany’s face turned beet red as she set the chair upright. “Something brushed my leg under the table,” she muttered, half to herself. Kimmy lifted the bottom of the tablecloth and peered underneath. A furry orange head appeared, and Bethany yelped again. “See, I told you!”
Kimmy chuckled and scooped up the cat, cuddling it close. “Aw, it’s just Orange Guy. He must have tagged along when I came out from the back.”
Charley raised an eyebrow. “Hope nobody calls your boss—or the health department.”
Kimmy sighed. “I know, I know. I can’t help it that he follows me everywhere!” The cat purred loudly and rubbed its head against her chin.
Bethany stared wistfully at her. “I wish that cat would follow me over to Newbridge Station and eat some mice so Olive could get the bakery back open. I really need that job.”
Charley frowned. “Remember, that cat belongs to someone. If you spirit it away, I’ll have to file a report—or at least tell the owner who stole his cat.”
Kimmy glared at her as she cradled Orange Guy. “You wouldn’t!”
Bethany sighed. “Don’t have an argument because of me. I wouldn’t take the cat anyway. I’m just being wishful.”
Charley wasn’t paying attention to her, though. She was too busy looking at Kimmy. “If you’re really worried, I can have a talk with the guy and let him know the consequences of neglecting his pets. I’ll just scare him a little to make sure Orange Guy is getting what he needs.”
Kimmy’s angry expression softened. “No, don’t. I’ll go have a talk with him tomorrow myself. I don’t want to make enemies.” Orange Guy squirmed in her arms. “I better put him out. You can’t follow me into the kitchen!” she scolded the cat as she whisked him away, presumably out the back door and into the alley.
“Kimmy’s a sucker for animals in need.” Bethany glanced slyly at Charley to see if her words were having the desired effect. They were—Charley looked like the gooey center of a molten chocolate cake. She was so smitten with Kimmy, Bethany could cry.
Charley sighed. “The cat looked OK to me. Thin, but not bony or anything.”
“That’s because Kimmy feeds him!”
“Can we get back to the real crime here? Those kids—” Charley broke off as Thierry gingerly placed a bowl of bisque in the center of the table like it was a Christmas roast. With a flourish, he added a second, empty bowl next to it.
“Enjoy,” he said flatly, clearly not interested in whether they enjoyed it or not, and turned his back on them to ask another table of diners how they liked their saumon au poivre. Bethany quickly divided the steaming, golden soup between the two bowls and pushed one over to Charley, who stared at it apprehensively.
“Is this your kind of soup, or does it have...you know, stuff in it?”
“I helped Kimmy with the recipe. It doesn’t have snails, I promise,” Bethany said, giggling. Charley wasn’t exactly what you’d call an adventurous eater. “It’s bisque. Basically, a bunch of cream and a little bit of lobster. A touch of saffron, too.”
“Do I like saffron?”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “Just eat it and see.” She took a bite of her own bisque and closed her eyes blissfully. Kimmy had perfectly balanced the soup’s creamy, salty, sweet, and briny flavors. She made a mental note to use saffron in the lobster bisque for the wedding gig and then remembered that she hadn’t gotten the job. Ugh. She didn’t have a prayer of growing her catering business if she had to pay the internet café every time she checked her email. “We really need to get those library computers back.”
Charley nodded. “I guess I could stake out the Honor Roll and wait for the kids to turn up with more cookie coupons. I could think of worse ways to spend my time than eating Olive’s éclairs and drinking a cappuccino.”
“The bakery is closed right now because of the mouse problem. Plus the library is handing out new cookie coupons to all the kids tomorrow at the back-to-school ice cream social—if a kid turns up with a coupon next week, it won’t prove anything.”
“I guess we have to find those skateboarders before the summer reading program prizes are awarded, then. How do you feel about ice cream?” Charley waggled her eyebrows.
Bethany scraped up the last bite of soup in her bowl. “Ice cream and I have a very close relationship. And I’m pretty sure I could pick those kids out of a crowd—I’d recognize that purple hair anywhere.”
Charley picked up her bowl to slurp the last of her bisque, and Bethany giggled. “Guess you like saffron.”
“Don’t know what taste it was, but it all tasted good.” Charley burped. A woman at the table beside them turned around and stared with a horrified expression, and Charley grinned unapologetically as she patted her lips with her napkin. “Excuse-ay moi!”
Thierry approached the table and cleared his throat. “Isn’t it about time you...?” He made little motions toward the door like he was trying to sweep them away.
Charley sat back in her chair and put her hands behind her head, smirking at him. Bethany nudged her under the table and forced a smile at the waiter. “The check, please.”
He pursed his lips. “The chef has covered your meal, if you can call it that.”
“Oh, how nice!”
Thierry snorted, but didn’t m
ove from his position. Is he waiting for us to leave? Bethany nudged Charley again, who showed no inclination to leave the café and just grinned at the waiter. Thierry cleared his throat again. “The kitchen didn’t cover the tip.”
Charley burst out laughing. “Oh, the tip for your wonderful service?”
Thierry straightened his lapels, bristling. “Well, in light of your unusual requests, I thought...” By this time, a few tables of diners were watching them, and Thierry glanced between them as if deciding whether or not to press the issue. A murmur spread through the dining room, and Kimmy poked her head out of the kitchen to see what was going on. Thierry blanched when he saw her. “Lovely to have you here this evening, ladies,” he mumbled, and hurriedly backed away from the table.
As the rest of the diners’ attention returned to their desserts and coffee, Kimmy furrowed her forehead and walked over. “Was he being weird? Sometimes Thierry comes on a little strong.”
Charley winked at her. “Don’t worry, we sorted him out.”
A crash sounded behind Kimmy—the unmistakable sound of glassware hitting the floor. She whirled around and gasped, and Bethany leaned to see what caused the noise. The first thing she saw was Thierry diving to catch a diner’s dessert as it flew through the air. The second thing she saw was a fluffy orange cat desperately clinging to a tablecloth as it slowly slid off the table, dish after dish crashing onto the floor.
“Orange Guy!” Kimmy yelped. Thierry roared and lunged for the cat, knocking chairs and people out of his way. He grabbed Orange Guy by the scruff of his neck and stood there, steaming, as Kimmy raced toward him.
“Get this beast out of here!” Thierry hissed, thrusting the cat into Kimmy’s arms under the stare of their customers. Orange Guy settled in and started purring and kneading the arm of her chef’s coat. “Monsieur Adrian will hear about this!”
With a panicked look on her face, Kimmy turned to Bethany and Charley and mouthed, “What should I do?”