Armed by Elaine Macko Page B

alone.”
    “Maybe,” I answered, “but no one broke in. The doors were still unlocked. So a stranger coming in off the street would know the place was occupied. Besides, the factory isn’t in the center of town. I can’t see too many people walking around out here.” Detective Van der Burg’s words echoed in my head.
    “That’s true. Well, Alex,” Mitch paused to take a sip of his coffee, “you certainly have your work cut out for you.”
    “I guess I do,” I said with resignation. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks and enjoy your coffee. Oh, one more thing. Did you by any chance give Mrs. Scott a package to mail?” I asked, thinking about the extra package on the postal receipt.
    “A package? No. Why?”
    “No reason. Thanks again.”
    “Come back anytime and good luck with your investigation, Nancy Drew.”

 
     
     

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
     
     
    Still early, I hadn’t seen anyone else arrive. I wandered down the hall stopping at the ladies room. I looked in the mirror and shook my head in dismay. Nancy Drew, as played by Pamela Sue Martin, I was not. More like Jessica Fletcher minus about thirty years. If I could change one thing about my appearance it would be my light brown hair. I kept it short because hair like mine had no business being long. Fine and flat I used lots of products to give it some oomph. At thirty-six I had never colored my hair and decided to remedy that. 
    I turned off the light and headed back down the hall, this time stopping at a door marked Order Desk and went in hoping to catch Sandy before she started her day.
    “Hi, is Sandy in yet?” 
    A young woman seated at one of the desks shook her head and resumed her computer work.
    “Do you know when she’ll be in?”
    “Should be any minute.”
    The nameplate on her desk said Monica Ballister…the order desk administrator who had been such a help to Peter.
    “You’re welcome to wait or I can have Sandy call you when she comes in.”
    “Thanks, I’ll wait.” I took a seat. “You’ve been here almost a year. How do you like it?”
    Monica gave me a how-do-you-know-that expression.
    “Sorry, someone mentioned it.”
    “Are you replacing Mrs. Scott?”
    “Just temporarily. I’m Alex Harris. I’m a friend of Mr. Poupée, he’s asked me to help out.” I extended my hand.
    Monica had a firm grip. “Yes, I heard. Are you a cop? I already talked with some detective yesterday.”
    “No, just a friend. Mr. Poupée wanted me to talk with the staff and, well, try to keep everyone at ease during this difficult time.” It still sounded ridiculous.
    “So you’re here to snoop.” Monica pursed her lips and gave a slight nod. “I already told the police everything I know. Which isn’t much, I might add. I stay cooped up in here most of the time, which suits me fine. I’m not much for socializing with the people I work with.”
    She turned and her fingers sped over the keyboard. I thought that under the somewhat frumpy exterior, Monica could be a pretty young woman if she would relax a bit, maybe smile. She had shiny shoulder length hair the color of a new penny. Her eyes had flecks the same color dancing in the rich brown pools but they weren’t happy eyes. They were lonely. I instantly pegged her for a computer geek and assumed she spent her personal time with a laptop, glued to the Internet rather than out partying with others her own age.
    Something about her struck me as familiar. “Have we met before?”
    “No. I don’t think so. You don’t look familiar to me.”
    “Maybe I’ve run into you in town.”
    “Could be. I hang out a lot at the bookstore just off Plains Road. Do you go in there?” Monica asked, still typing in data.
    “Yes, I do. Unfortunately not as much as I’d like. They have a great mystery section. Do you like mysteries?”
    “I’ve never read one. I hang out in the computer section. They keep fairly current with their stock.”
    “Did Mrs. Scott hire you?” I asked,