Free Riley Mack and the Other Known Troublemakers by Chris Grabenstein Page B

a troublemaker. It was a Saturday, school was out, and here she was at work instead of at home looking after her troublemaking son while her husband was off playing soldier boy over in Afghanistan.
    The chief shook his head. Idle hands were the devil’stools. Kids with nothing to do got into nothing but trouble. That’s why John Brown made his boy, Gavin, earn his keep, gave him a monthly quota of “second-hand treasures” to be obtained for his grandmother’s antiques tent at the flea market. Kept the boy busy and, at the same time, kept the chief’s mom in food and chewing tobacco, which meant Chief Brown didn’t have to worry about buying those things for her.
    Money, of course, was what brought him to the bank on a Saturday when he was supposed to be out writing up fire code violations for shopkeepers who didn’t contribute enough money to his special Police Morale Booster Fund.
    â€œIs Mr. Weitzel available?” he said with a smile to the young woman seated at the customer service desk.
    â€œIs he expecting you?”
    â€œNo. But he’s going to be very glad to see me. Just tell Chipper that Chief John Brown is here.”
    â€œJust a minute, sir.” She pressed a button on her phone while the chief hitched up his pants importantly.
    â€œAnd rustle us up some doughnuts and a fresh pot of coffee.” He winked at her before she even answered. “Thanks, doll.”
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    As expected, Chip Weitzel saw Chief Brown right away.
    â€œJohn! Good to see you!”
    They pumped hands.
    â€œYou got a good grip, Chip.”
    â€œThanks! Please have a seat.”
    As instructed, the customer service gal brought in a plate of doughnuts and a pot of fresh coffee.
    â€œTo what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
    The chief didn’t answer right away. He wanted to toy with Chip a little. Make him sweat. See him squirm.
    â€œThat Mrs. Mack out there working window three?”
    â€œYes, sir, it sure is.”
    â€œPretty gal.”
    â€œUhm-hmm,” said the banker. “Pretty as a peach. If, you know, you find seasonal summer fruits attractive.”
    The chief leaned back in the leather chair. Listened to its rich crinkle. “I didn’t know you worked Saturdays, Chip.”
    â€œOh, yes, indeedy. We’re open ten to three. Makes it easier for working folks to do their banking, and the ones with jobs are the ones who actually have money. Heh, heh, heh.”
    When Weitzel laughed, the chief got a whiff of something minty and fresh.
    â€œYou weren’t here last Saturday,” said the police chief.
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œI came in last weekend. You weren’t here.”
    â€œRiiiiight,” said Weitzel, flipping backward through his desk calendar. “Last Saturday. Right. Almost forgot.Big bank management symposium. I was out of town. Business trip. Now, what can I do you for, chief?”
    â€œNeed a loan.”
    â€œAll righty. Home improvements?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œNew car?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œCollege tuition for your boy?”
    â€œNope. I need a small business loan.”
    â€œAnd what sort of business are we talking about?”
    â€œA surefire moneymaker.”
    â€œWell, we like those. What exactly does this business do?”
    â€œSorry. That’s confidential.”
    â€œWell, how much money were you looking for?”
    â€œTen thousand dollars.”
    Mr. Weitzel pushed a stack of forms across the desk.
    â€œAll righty. I just need you to fill in this loan application.”
    â€œNo you don’t, Chip.”
    â€œUh, yes. Sorry. We do. The bank always needs paperwork to process—”
    â€œNot for this. This is a very unique, very lucrative business opportunity that more or less fell into my lap. You in or out?”
    â€œWell, John, I’m not sure. This is very out of the ordinary. To come and ask the bank to loan you—”
    â€œI