Free All Sales Fatal by Laura Disilverio Page B

something to him when he left?”
    I realized with a tiny nip of surprise that I was actuallyworried about Captain W. The man was annoying, borderline incompetent, sexist, and egotistical, but he must have some redeeming qualities or his three ex-wives wouldn’t still care about him. His two-day absence was way out of character, and I couldn’t help thinking something had happened to him. “I’m as bad as Aggie,” I muttered, standing.
    “Who’s Aggie?” Joel asked.
    I filled him in on last night’s encounter at Woskowicz’s house. “Were there any signs of a struggle?” Joel pushed a brown curl off his forehead.
    “None. The place was neater than I’d expected.” An image of the cabinets and drawers hanging open popped into my mind. “You know,” I said slowly, “I’m wondering if someone searched the place.”
    “Really? Cool.”
    “It was probably one of the ex-wives looking for something,” I said. Although Aggie had certainly seemed to know just where everything was…
    “You should tell the police.”
    I shook my head, remembering Detective Helland’s reaction to my visit yesterday.
    “Then we should search his place,” Joel said, enthused by the idea, “to see if we can figure out what someone else was looking for. It might help us find out what happened to the boss.”
    “That would be breaking and entering,” I said in a discouraging voice. “Illegal.” And I knew someone who was very, very good at it…
    I didn’t even have to go looking for Grandpa Atherton. When I walked into the mall operations office twenty minutes later, summoned by Curtis Quigley, Grandpa stood in the middle of the reception area, one arm around the EasterBunny head, the rest of the costume draped over his other arm.
    “Wha—?”
    Before I could get the question out, Pooja gave me a radiant smile. “Meet our new Easter Bunny, EJ,” she said.
    Grandpa’s spying habits were embarrassing and potentially a threat to my continued employment—witness the recent incident in Nordstrom—so I’d gone out of my way to ensure few of the mall’s administrators and merchants knew we were related. I responded as if I’d never met him.
    “I hope this one intends to stay sober on the job,” I said with a darkling look at Grandpa. What was the man up to?
    “Never touch alcohol,” he lied.
    “Isn’t it kind of Mr. Atherton to fill in so the kids won’t be disappointed about not meeting the Easter Bunny?”
    “Very kind,” I said, still suspicious of Grandpa’s motives. “How about I show you where the Bunny Station is?” I suggested, taking his arm and steering him toward the door.
    “How kind of you ,” he murmured.
    After asking Pooja to tell Mr. Quigley I’d be right back, I let the glass door close behind us.
    “Okay, Grandpa,” I said. “What are you up to?”
    “Up to?” he asked, keeping pace with me as I glided on the Segway. “I heard there’d been a contretemps with the Easter Bunny yesterday, and I volunteered to fill in. I’m not even getting paid,” he added virtuously. The bunny head threatened to escape from his grasp, and he shifted it to clutch it with both arms in front of him. “And you know I’m a people watcher, Emma-Joy,” he said. “What better place to watch all the world go by than from the Easter Bunny’s enclosure?”
    His seraphic smile didn’t fool me for a minute, but it was clear he wasn’t going to fill me in on his plans. “Fine,” Isaid. “Just try not to promise the kids they’ll all get spy gadgets and decoder rings in their Easter baskets.”
    He chuckled and held the elevator door for me. “I saw the flyer for the self-defense class,” he said. “Monday morning at eight thirty. I’ll be there.”
    Drat. I’d been hoping that if I didn’t mention the class again, he’d forget about it. Sheer dumb luck that he’d seen a flyer in Quigley’s office. As we descended, I told him about my visit to Woskowicz’s house the night before and my