Chapter 3 - A WOMAN SHE DIDN’T RECOGNIZE
I called Helen immediately.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Margaret?”
“When were you at the store?”
Silence.
Then she sighed.
“So you found out.”
“Yesterday?”
“Tuesday.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because your husband had just died.”
“My husband was your brother.”
“Exactly.”
Helen’s voice cracked.
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then I asked,
“What happened?”
“I went in to buy something for the service.”
“You already had a black coat.”
“I wanted a scarf.”
Of course she did.
Helen bought something new before every family funeral.
A habit inherited from her mother.
“I wasn’t dressed up,” she said. “Jeans. Raincoat. No makeup.”
“And Brittany?”
“She didn’t recognize me.”
That wasn’t surprising.
Brittany had met Helen only twice.
Both times at large family gatherings.
Helen lived three states away.
“What did she say?”
“At first, nothing. I asked about a silk scarf in the front case.”
I closed my eyes.
“She looked at me and asked what my budget was.”
“That’s not against policy.”
“No.”
Helen paused.
“So I told her I didn’t have one.”
“And?”
“She smiled and said the scarves started at nine hundred dollars.”
I could already hear Brittany’s voice.
That fake patience.
That practiced smile.
Helen continued.
“I said that was fine.”
“What happened next?”
“She asked if I understood that she meant nine hundred dollars, not ninety.”
I gripped the phone.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
“Helen—”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell her who you were?”
“Because I wanted to see what came next.”
Arthur’s sister.
Definitely.
“And what came next?”
“She told me some customers felt uncomfortable when they realized how expensive the store was.”
My jaw tightened.
“Then she suggested I shop online for a sale.”
“That’s when you filed the complaint?”
“No.”
My eyes opened.
“What else happened?”
Helen’s voice dropped.
“I saw a cashmere scarf in a locked display. I asked to see it.”
“And?”
“She told me she didn’t want to keep opening cases for someone who was ‘just browsing.’”
I stood so fast the chair hit the wall.
“Margaret.”
“No.”
“Don’t lose your head.”
“She humiliated you.”
“So?”
“So?”
Helen’s voice sharpened.
“You called me for the facts. Those are the facts.”
I forced myself to breathe.
“Did you buy anything?”
“Yes.”
That surprised me.
“What?”
“The scarf.”
“From Brittany?”
“No.”
Helen almost laughed.
“A young associate named Mia came over. She apologized. She showed me six scarves, made tea, and spent twenty minutes helping me choose.”
I made a mental note.
“Mia what?”
“Daniels, I think.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Brittany came back after she saw my black American Express card.”
There it was.
“She recognized the card?”
“Oh, she recognized the card.”
Helen’s voice turned dry.
“Suddenly I was ‘ma’am.’”
I closed my eyes.
“And then?”
“She tried to take the sale from Mia.”
My anger became something much calmer.
More useful.
“Did Mia let her?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Margaret?”
“Yes?”
“You want my advice?”
“Always.”
“Don’t fire Brittany because she embarrassed me.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t fire her because she embarrassed you either.”
“I said I wouldn’t.”
“Then do this right.”
“I intend to.”
Helen was quiet for a moment.
Then she said,
“Arthur would’ve hated what she represents.”
That one landed deep.
After the call, I sat in his office for nearly an hour.
Then I opened the store’s camera schedule.
Friday.
10:00 a.m.
Every angle active.
Audio on the sales floor wasn’t recorded for privacy reasons, but video was enough to establish behavior.
I sent Patricia one message.
I’M STILL GOING.
She replied immediately.
I KNOW.
Then a second message appeared.
BUT YOU NEED TO SEE THIS FIRST.
A video file followed.
Internal security footage.
Tuesday afternoon.
Helen stood beside the scarf display.
Mia was showing her an item.
Brittany approached.
She said something.
Mia’s face changed.
Helen stepped back.
Then Brittany reached toward the sales tablet.
Mia pulled it away.
I watched the clip three times.
“Patricia,” I whispered.
My phone rang.
I answered.
“What did Brittany say?”
Patricia didn’t answer immediately.
“We spoke to Mia.”
“And?”
“She says Brittany told her to transfer the sale.”
“Why?”
“Because Brittany said…”
Patricia stopped.
“Say it.”
May you like
“She said, ‘Old women like her don’t spend ten grand unless somebody dies.’”
Arthur had died the night before.
