The Adventure of the Gross Grocery

Chapter 13 - The Sour Smell of Success

I can't believe how naive I've been! All those winks and stolen glances, all for nothing. This whole time I've been flirting with a criminal. The more I think about it, the more steamed I become.

He knew I was innocent and yet still let me take the fall. Heck, he didn't even blink when I was almost arrested. I don't care how cute someone is, that kinda behavior's just plain ugly. 

"This is ridiculous," he says. "I didn't steal anything." A small crowd has gathered in the checkout lane, but I don't care anymore. No more delays. It's time for the truth to come out once and for all. 

"Mrs. Coldstone always picks the same lotto numbers: her birthday. Since you sold her the ticket, you knew she won." I cross my arms. "So you reached into her purse and stole her wallet."

"She won the lotto?" he says, trying to act surprised. It's a feeble attempt though; I know he's lying. 

"You left donut powder on her purse when you opened it." 

He laughs nervously. "That's hardly proof."

Ed nods. "That's not enough to accuse him, Sara."

My mood ring turns a color I'd never seen before, a dark red. Disappointment laced with anger maybe? I know Checkout Boy's guilty, but need concrete proof. Hard evidence. 

"Are there security cameras covering the cash registers?" I ask.

"Yes," Ed says, "but they don't work. Been meaning to fix 'em for months."

A tiny smile creeps across Checkout Boy's perfect lips. He's going to get away with it. But how will he collect the money? I know the answer immediately; he'll get a friend to submit the ticket, and then they'll split the winnings. 

"Look, that bloodhound would've smelled the wallet on me if I had it," he says. 

"Yeah," Then I remember that he'd gone to the bathroom shortly before the dog arrived. "Unless you stashed it somewhere first." I march down the aisle, leading the small group of employees: Ed, Zelda, Johnny, Francesca, and finally Checkout Boy.

The bathroom is quite small, so there are only a few places where he could've hidden it. I search behind the toliet, beneath the sink, even under the plunger. Nothing. 

"Satisfied?" Checkout Boy asks, when I return empty handed. I don't acknowledge him. Where else could he have stashed it? There are a million hiding places in the store. Maybe I should check the health food aisle. No one ever goes there. 

I'm so lost in my thoughts, I almost trip over the onion creature trotting back to the radiator, his arms loaded with cheese. 

"Stupid people," he says. "Blocking my way. Stealing my cheeses. Throwing trash in my fungus garden. No respect." I can't see his face on account of all the cheese, but I can tell he's annoyed. Wait a minute. What did he say?

"Trash?" I ask. "What do you mean trash?" 

A stubby hand points at Checkout Boy. "He threw trash in my garden. Then he stole my cheeses."

Of course! It all makes sense. I rush to the radiator and peer behind it. There, tucked deep beneath the coils, lies Mrs. Coldstone's wallet. I hold it up triumphantly as if I'd just discovered gold. 

Shouts of joy echo across the store. 

"I believe this is yours," I say, handing it over. To my shock, Mrs. Coldstone reaches out and hugs me. It's really awkward, and all I can do is pat her back until she lets go. 

"Why are you hugging her?" Checkout Boy asks. "She's probably the one who hid it."

I quickly turn on him. "No, you knew the bloodhound was coming. So you stashed it here, where you figured the cheesy smell would mask your crime."

"That's ridiculous." He makes the fakest laugh I've ever heard. 

Luckily, Mrs. Coldstone doesn't buy it. She gives him a sharp look and flips open her wallet. As she rummages through its contents, tears return to her eyes.

"What's the matter?" I ask, worried. "The ticket's not in there?"

"Oh, the ticket? Yes, it's here. But my photo's ruined."

She cradles an old picture creased with age, as if it's a wounded bird. Someone's wrapped it 'round a red, sticky glob. There's no saving the photo; it's beyond repair. 

"Looks like gum," I say, sniffing it. "Cinnamon gum."

Checkout Boy stops chewing. Cinnamon is his favorite flavor. In fact, it's all he chews.  Everyone stares him down, until he can't take the silence any longer. 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. It was just a joke." He holds up his hands. "I was going to give it back. You don't really think I'd steal that money, do you? Please don't tell the police."

"You're fired," Ed says. "Hand in your scanner."

Checkout Boy's jaw drops. It's really hard for me not to smile. So instead, I eat one of the powdered donuts meant for him. It tastes delicious, just like this moment. 

Ah, sweet justice. How I love the taste of....what's this? Jelly filling? Ugh. I hate jelly filling. And these are his favorite? Checkout Boy is definitely not my type.