Free Fat Cat Takes the Cake by Janet Cantrell Page B

North’s murder and everything else related to it.
    Since the shop was fairly busy, she worked the counter beside Mallory, the new hire. About midmorning, it dawned on Chase what bothered her about Mallory. The woman, little more than a girl, rarely smiled. She knew this was her first job out of high school, but her résumé had listed an impressive number of retail places she had worked during the summers. Shortly before lunchtime there was a lull, one of those rare times without a single person in the shop.
    â€œMallory,” Chase began, then wondered how to continue. She paused, then forged ahead. “I need to tell you something very important about selling things to people.”
    Mallory drew in her breath, her eyes wide with worry. “What am I doing wrong? Did I miscount the change?”
    Chase gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “No, nothing like that.” It suddenly occurred to her that the reason Mallory’s list of jobs was so long could be that she got fired from all of them. “You’re doing fine, really. But, well, I’m sure you’ve heard that first impressions are important. Right?”
    Mallory nodded, but the worry remained etched on her face. She sucked on her bottom lip and hunched her thin shoulders.
    â€œRelax, dear. I’m going to tell you a secret. There’s only one thing you need to do to improve what you’re already doing. It’s a tiny thing, but it makes a huge first impression. When you first interact with a customer, you smile. That’s it. The customer is at ease, so you’re more at ease. Things will go smoothly if they feel comfortable with you from the start.”
    Mallory nodded, her posture and her face losing some of the tension.
    Just then, the tension in the shop kicked up one hundred percent. Grace Pilsen, Anna’s old baking rival, strode into the Bar None, throwing the door open so violently that the usually soft bell jangled loudly. She looked fierce, but that was her normal expression, Chase thought. She’d never seen the woman without an angry scowl on her face.
    Confronted with this new, terrifying customer, Mallory reassumed her worried expression. Chase couldn’t blame her for not trying out the smile technique with this woman.
    â€œMs. Pilsen,” Chase said, also not smiling. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
    â€œI need to speak to Anna.” She ended her sentence with an unattractive sneer. The white skunk streak in hersuspiciously black hair always made Chase think of Cruella De Vil, the villain in the
One Hundred and One Dalmatians
Disney movie. A shorter, plumper version. The woman obviously ate a lot of what she baked at The Pilsener.
    Anna had heard her snarling voice, which was rather loud, and came barging through the double doors almost as violently as Grace had entered the shop. The doors
whomp
ed as they swung back and forth a few times in Anna’s wake.
    â€œWhat do
you
want here?” Anna asked.
    â€œI’m trying to keep you from being disqualified.”
    Anna drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much more than Grace’s. Both women measured about five feet tall.
    They faced off in front of the sales counter, the lights of the display case below acting as spotlights on the action. Mallory and Chase watched in fascinated silence.
    â€œI’ll have you know,” Anna said, “that I’m officially entered and have turned in my recipe. My paperwork is all in order.”
    â€œExcept for this.” Grace extracted a piece of paper from the briefcase she carried and waved it toward Anna, who came forward and grabbed it.
    â€œThis is my application. I turned this in long ago. My acceptance was based on this.”
    â€œLook at the bottom.” Grace’s sneer grew uglier. “You neglected to sign your full name.”
    Anna glanced at the sheet. “I . . .
what
?” She put her