It was a statement, not a question, and Ramsey decided it was the better course to remain silent. She lowered her chin a notch so as not to appear belligerent.
“That was Janet Holloway,” said Paul. “Holloway. The mayor’s daughter. If you didn’t know that—” He paused and turned on Sullivan. “Then you did.”
Sullivan merely raised an eyebrow. The manager glowered at him for a moment then returned his focus to Ramsey. Sullivan felt bad about that but had no doubt that Ramsey Masters could hold her own.
Paul pushed the report toward Ramsey. “You should have come to me the moment you realized who she was.”
Ramsey said calmly, “Miss Holloway was trying to make off with over one hundred fifty dollars of merchandise. I followed protocol, and informing you before I call the police isn’t procedure. You’re the one always reminding me that anything over twenty-five dollars needs to be called in. I did that. I rang you before I started to gather Miss Holloway’s information and you didn’t respond.”
Paul tapped the phone in his back pocket, pulled it out, and looked at the screen. Almost immediately, his complexion turned ruddy. He toggled a switch, changed the phone from vibrate to ring tone, and shoved it back in his pocket. Although it was obvious that he had missed her call, he did not acknowledge or apologize for it.
Ramsey took the offensive. “What is it you wanted me to do, Paul?”
He ignored her question and regarded Sullivan. “Was Miss Holloway’s name mentioned during the call?”
“No.”
“Then everyone with a scanner doesn’t know,” muttered Paul. “Good. Have you told anyone at the station since the call went out?”
“No.”
“Better,” Paul said under his breath. He stared at Ramsey’s report, nodded once, firmly, making his decision, and swiped the paper in his direction. He picked it up and tore it in quarters. “Shredder will take care of this.” He looked at each of them in turn. “You understand?”
“Not in the least,” said Ramsey.
Sullivan touched the back of his hand to his mouth as he cleared his throat. The gesture hid his grin. Sobering, he said, “Looks as if you want this to go away.”
“Not just go away,” said Paul. “I want this to never have happened. Is that clear?”
Sullivan shrugged, but Ramsey said, “Not in the least.”
“Then get it clear,” Paul said. “We are not pursuing this.”
“Because she’s the mayor’s daughter?”
“Because her father is someone I would prefer not to embarrass. There are plans for this store that you’re not privy to, but suffice it to say that Owen Holloway’s support is important for growth and tax breaks. Is that enough for you?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “Not in the least,” but she managed to keep it to herself. She chose to nod rather than risk speaking.
“Good,” said Paul, satisfied. “And this stays here. All of it.”
Sullivan said, “I have to make a report.”
“I’m sure you can do that without attaching Miss Holloway’s name to it.”
Sullivan was pretty sure he couldn’t, but he kept that to himself. He’d work it out with Chief Bailey. The chief played poker with Owen Holloway so there was some incentive to handle the daughter’s shoplifting activity with discretion. Sullivan pushed back his chair and stood. “Since there’s nothing else to be done here, I’m going back to my car.”
Paul nodded and stepped aside to let Sullivan leave, but when Ramsey rose to follow, he waved her back down.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sullivan saw Paul’s gesture and was tempted to linger. It was the trouble he imagined it would cause Ramsey that kept him going.
25
Ramsey had just settled comfortablyinto one corner of her plump sofa, Kindle in hand, when she heard someone crossing the front porch. Whoever it was ignored the doorbell and knocked instead. Sometimes FedEx or UPS did that when dropping off a package, but she wasn’t expecting a delivery. Friends didn’t simply show up at her door without a preliminary call or text, or better yet, an invitation.
She set the Kindle on the arm of the sofa and unfolded her legs. She was pushing off the couch when the knock came again. It seemed insistent to her and that made her wary. Ramsey did not go to the door straightaway. She went to front window, drew back the curtain a few inches, and looked out at an angle to identify her visitor. The porch light clearly illuminated Sullivan Day’s profile as he stood there staring at the door, waiting for her to answer it. He looked impatient, shifting his weight from foot to foot, sometimes rising on the balls of his feet. When he raised a fist to rap on her door again, she tapped on the window and called to him.
“Coming!” She figured he heard her because he didn’t knock. She turned off the alarm, unlocked the door, but only opened it enough for her to stand in the gap. “Did I forget something?” she asked. “Am I supposed to be expecting you?”
