She looked below the cash desk to the wastebasket, but it was empty. She searched under the counter, but there was no sign of the envelopes the mail had come in, nor the packaging for the scarf.
But something else was missing, too.
The blue bank pouch that should have been under the counter was also missing.
Tricia straightened too quickly and hit her head on the edge of the counter. Stars flashed before her eyes as she touched the top of her head and winced.
“Yow!” Miss Marple offered in sympathy, but Tricia had no time to converse with the cat. She opened the register and her heart sank. There wasn’t a cent in it. No checks, no credit card slips. Nothing. Even the loose change had been removed.
She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until opening. She had a few questions for Linda when she arrived. But first things first. She headed to the back of the store and brought out the vacuum cleaner, hoping to finish the carpet before the day’s first customers arrived.
She did that and got the coffee started, too. By the time she poured herself a cup, it was ten ten.
No customers. No Linda.
She checked the store’s voice mail but found no messages.
Tricia had a bad feeling about this.
After a quick search, she came up with the paperwork Linda had filled in two days before. Scanning the page, she found Linda’s telephone number and dialed. After one ring, a recorded message said: “You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is out of service. Please check the number and try again.”
As suggested, she tried again-and got the same message.
Tricia’s stomach tightened as she set the heavy receiver back in its cradle.
The door opened and a customer came in. Tricia braved a smile. “Hi, welcome to Haven’t Got a Clue. I’m Tricia. Please let me know if you need any help.”
“Thanks,” the woman said, and shuffled off to peruse the shelves.
Sensing something was wrong, Miss Marple jumped up on the sales counter and said, “Brrrpt!” Tricia petted the cat. “We’re going to believe the best about Linda.”
But ten minutes later, as her customer tried to pay for her purchase in cash, Tricia had no money to make change. She apologized and accepted a check instead. She smiled and gave a wave as her customer let herself out and then sighed. What should she do? Close the store so she could go to the bank and get some change? Borrow some money from Frannie next door?
Call the police?
The phone rang-could it be Linda with a perfectly good explanation as to why she was late and the store’s receipts were missing?
Tricia grabbed the receiver. “Haven’t Got a Clue-”
But it wasn’t Linda on the other end of the line.
“Trish! The worst-the absolute worst thing has happened.”
“Calm down, calm down,” Tricia told Angelica.
“I can’t calm down. That stupid video of me on TV yesterday has gone viral. Now I’m not only the laughingstock of all of New England, but I’m the laughingstock of all of North America-maybe even the world!”
“You’re exaggerating,” Tricia chided her.
“No I’m not,” Angelica howled, verging on tears. “The comments are horrible! Everyone’s acting like it was my fault that the TV station burned down. If that stupid boom guy hadn’t hit me in the head with his phalliclike microphone, I’d be on my way to being-”
“The next Paula Deen-yeah, yeah, I know.”
“You could be at least a little sympathetic,” Angelica wailed.
“I’m sorry, Ange, but I’ve got problems of my own. Remember how I rarely let Ginny close for me?”
“What’s that got to do with-”
“With Mr. Everett heading to the hospital yesterday, I left the keys to my store with Linda and told her to lock up at the regular time. Well, she did. And this morning she hasn’t come in and the money from the till is gone.”
“She stole from you-on her second day on the job?”
“I so want to give her the benefit of the doubt. I mean, she’s not that late, just-” She glanced at the clock. “By twenty minutes.”
“Maybe she had car trouble,” Angelica offered.
“I tried calling her at home. The number’s been disconnected.”
“Oh dear. Your day is starting just as crappy as mine,” Angelica said, sounding not quite so paranoid.
“At least one good thing has happened. Mr. Everett was discharged from the hospital and is, presumably, home.”
“Oh good.” Angelica sighed. “Thank you for mentioning that. I’m afraid I have gotten all caught up in myself this morning. I need to keep reminding myself that I have a good life, a good sister, two thriving businesses, and many fine friends.”
“Can’t you make lemonade out of lemons with the video situation?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure I’ve heard you say there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Call your agent and brainstorm this.”
“Oh, Trish. You’re right. I’m going to do that right now. Thanks. And you should call Grant and ask his advice about Linda.”
“I don’t want to do that just yet. I’ll give her until lunchtime and then…” I will be a complete fink and turn her in.
“It’s business, dear. You hardly know this woman.”
“But I wanted to trust her.”
“I know. Do you need some cash to get started for the day?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll send Frannie right over. And while she’s gone I’ll call my agent. Do you still want me to mention Harry Tyler to him?”
“No way.”
Angelica giggled. “Your wish is my command. Look, I’d better go. Talk to you later, and thank you for making me feel better. Ta-ta for now.”
Tricia put the phone down and stared at it, feeling foolish. Of all the candidates she’d interviewed and hired since Ginny had left, Linda had been the most promising. She’d been frank about her financial situation. Was that why the bank pouch was missing? But there couldn’t have been more than a couple of hundred dollars in the till. Was it worth going to jail for that?
That was the logic a former employee at the Happy Domestic had gone with. Only in her case she got probation-and found a friend in Grace Harris, who found her a job.
Angelica was right. She really should call the police. But she would wait at least until Linda was an hour late for work. She could at least give her that much benefit of a doubt.
The shop’s door opened and Frannie breezed into Haven’t Got a Clue, clutching a number ten envelope that jingled with change as she walked. “Hi, Tricia. Angelica said you needed some money. What happened-someone rob you?” she said, and laughed.
Tricia stared blankly at her.
The mirth vanished from Frannie’s face. “I was only kidding.” She handed over the envelope and watched as Tricia counted out the money and settled it into the register tray. She seemed to be waiting for an explanation, but Tricia didn’t feel inclined to give one.
Frannie leaned her elbows on the top of the glass display case, resting her head in her hands. “I hear Mr. Everett is out of the hospital. That was a close call, wasn’t it?”
“Too close for comfort,” Tricia agreed. “He was better when I saw him last evening. I’m hoping he’ll be back to work in a few days.”
“That’ll be nice,” Frannie agreed. She didn’t seem in a hurry to get back to work at the Cookery. “Have you heard anything new on the Pippa Comfort murder investigation?”
“No,” Tricia said, counting the pennies into the far right section of the coin tray.
“Everyone’s so tight-lipped about this murder,” Frannie complained. “Makes me wonder what’s going on.”
“What could possibly be going on?” Tricia asked.
Frannie shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno. Maybe it wouldn’t be good for the village if the murderer was revealed.”