7 Madness in Miniature Read Online Free PDF Page A

the phrases dispassionately, considering that the writer had possibly faked the errors as well as the handwriting, to further obscure his or her identity.
    After I read them all, I neatened the stack, as I would any set of documents or letters, except that these made me jumpy enough to look over my shoulder and out the window at passersby. Was there a gun in the innocuous-looking shopping bag from Abe’s Hardware carried by a man in cargo pants? A knife in the oversized purse slung over the shoulder of the young woman in jeans? Evil in the eyes of the kid in the wrap-around sunglasses and New York Yankees baseball cap, so far from home?
    “Have you thought who else besides Bebe and Maisie were put out of business by—”
    “They weren’t exactly put out of business,” Catherine said.
    “I’m sure you have another term for it, but you know what I mean,” I said, revealing only part of my annoyance.
    “I’m sorry,” Catherine said. “I’m just nervous, Mrs. Porter.”
    Uh-oh . I’d upset my former student, who seemed to have taken my slight reprimand as a blight on her GPA. I had a flashback to the young Catherine Duncan, with waist-length hair in many shades of brown and blond, and no lack of high school boys eager to carry her books. Now she’d graduated to a stylish shoulder-length cut and a complex social life, but I was still Mrs. Porter, one of the people responsible for her early education.
    It wasn’t Catherine’s fault that she was confused by my reaction. I’d been on SuperKrafts’ side for all practical purposes during the long months of meetings, and never expressed my ambivalence outright. Yes, I approved of the boost to our economy, but no, I didn’t want to spoil the look of our lovely downtown. Yes, I wanted the enormous stock of crafts supplies at my fingertips, but no, I didn’t want to put old friends out of business. It was time I stopped trying to have it both ways.
    I returned to Catherine’s immediate problem. “Have you thought of taking the notes to your boss or to the police?” I asked. Conciliatory, if too obvious a suggestion.
    “I’d rather not go public or make a big deal out of them right now.”
    I interpreted the reasoning as a reluctance to bring her bosses in on the situation. I knew little of corporate politics, but I figured the negative publicity, whether aimed at her personally or professionally might not reflect well on a performance evaluation. I assumed there were in-house policies in place for this kind of communication.
    “Actually, I was hoping you could ask your nephew to look into it,” she continued. “Would you take them, Gerry?” She gave the pile a little nudge in my direction.
    Like anyone who had more than casual dealings with me, Catherine knew about my nephew, Skip, the shining star (my term, and his mother’s) of the Lincoln Point Police Department, though as far as I knew, she’d never met him. And it wasn’t the first time I’d been approached, not for my great wisdom or reputation for good advice, but for my close connection to the police department. Not only through Skip, but also through his mother, my sister-in-law and best friend, Beverly Gowen, a civilian volunteer with the LPPD who was about to marry a retired LPPD detective. Quite a family affair, now that I thought about it. I wanted to remind Catherine that one didn’t need to be related to our police force to receive serious attention and the benefits of their excellent work, but she was already in distress, from the notes and from my impatience with her euphemisms.
    “It would be better if you took the notes to Skip yourself.” I nudged them back toward her. “You can provide the context, and he’d have to deal with you eventually anyway.”
    “Okay,” she said, her voice weak, her resolve doubtful.
    “Now back to my question. Who else was adversely affected by your doing business in town?” I hoped that was euphemistic enough for her.
    Catherine closed her eyes, as