This one is a little bit longer. I thought about breaking it up into chapters but I liked the continuity of a single submission.
There isn't a lot of sex for its length. If that's what you're hunting for, then perhaps this one isn't the best story for you. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it.
A special thank you to thewinedarksea for his editing work. He found a number of mistakes and helped make the story better in many ways. Any typos were introduced by me as I converted it for publishing here.
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"You've never eaten here?" Ed Wallace asked.
"Nope, never stopped by," replied Miranda.
"Well, Sunday brunch is great. Get one of those boy toys you have sniffing around your skirts to bring you."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "Sniffing, Ed? You're always the class act, aren't you?"
He chuckled and she joined in. She liked working with him. He was more than twenty-five years her senior but didn't have that chip on his shoulder about women the way so many of the older guys did. Plus, he was a good cop.
"They never last very long, Randy," he said to her, "so we gotta think you're just using them for carnal purposes."
"They never last very long because they're not the right guy," she said dryly.
"I keep tellin' ya, he's sitting right next to you!"
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and I keep telling you that babysitting your butt in the ambulance after I give you a coronary isn't my idea of a fun date."
He laughed as they pulled into the parking lot of The Mason Jar. They got out of the car and walked in.
"Hello, Mr. Mason," Ed said. "I'm Officer Wallace; this is Officer Patterson," gesturing at Miranda. "You're the owner?"
"Yes," Richard Mason replied, shaking the offered hand.
"Everyone's okay?" Ed asked.
"It seems so. They're just a little shaken up."
"And everyone's still here?"
"Well, the staff is but I think many of the customers left. I'm not certain; I only got here a few minutes ago myself."
"The dispatcher said it was a woman who called in the robbery. Who would that be?" Miranda asked.
Richard Mason turned to her. "Ellen — Ellen Bernhardt — was running things. I found out when her husband called me."
"Her husband called? Does he work here?"
"No. He was nearby or something." Richard seemed uncertain of his answer for a second, then continued. "That's him sitting with her in the booth over there." He indicated a couple sitting on the edge of the somewhat-deserted dining room.
A half an hour later, Ed was back to talk to Richard, who was sitting in his office trying to leave a message for the insurance company.
"Ms. Bernhardt says she doesn't know how much money was in the drop bags in the safe but that there was a little over $2,500 in the register and the tip pools plus another $500 in the cash box."
"I did the drop bags. There was a little over $9,000 in them," Richard said.
"Is that much cash usual?"
"No. An average Friday for us is about $6,000 with half of it in cash. Saturday is a little heavier but not much more cash. But, with the NCAAs ending this week, Friday and Saturday were non-stop for lunch and dinner, plus the bar got hammered in the evening. Then Saturday, there were several brunch catering jobs plus a large birthday party in the afternoon that paid cash."
Ed made a note but said nothing, so Richard went on defensively, "I have register tapes and signed booking orders for everything, plus you can ask the staff how busy we were."
"No, no, Mr. Mason. Nothing like that. That's between you and your insurance company. We're just wondering why you kept the money here, especially Friday's receipts."
"It wasn't supposed to be. We don't deposit at night because I worry about people's safety going to a bank alone that late. But I was on the go from the moment I came in yesterday for those parties and just figured both deposits could go in this morning. Ellen was going to do it today, but I guess she didn't get to it, yet."
A while later, Ed flopped into the seat across from Miranda. "Over twelve grand, more cash than they ever have around this place. And it happened exactly at the slowest time of the day when the fewest people were around. Plus, the outside camera — which isn't totally obvious, by the way — just happens to have been knocked to the side. Either someone got really lucky, or ..." His voice trailed off.
"Yeah," replied Miranda.
"And I can't help but wonder about the fact that the woman who handed over the money, including the money in the locked safe, is also the person responsible for the money being here. I know the witnesses say the perp had a gun but it feels a little odd to me."
She grimaced. "It gets odder than that, Ed."
"What do you mean?"
"She's Mason's ex-wife."
"What?"
"Yep. It slipped out when I was talking to some of the older employees. They were married a long time, then she divorces him and marries this Bernhardt guy."
"And her husband just 'happens' to be in the area. Wonder if he owns a silver Dodge pickup and if there's a ski mask in it?"
"I talked with a clerk down at the courthouse," she said a while later, closing her phone. "He says he knows them and the divorce was filed three years ago and seemed amicable. One kid, joint legal custody, she has residential custody. Reasonable child support payments from him. They agreed privately on a property settlement, with him getting almost everything, including the restaurant. Judge Thomas signed off on it."
Ed looked surprised at that. "Husband gets most of it? Jeez, you don't see that every day. Usually the guy gets it up the ass over and over until he screams." Miranda rolled her eyes in mock disgust as he continued, "She get caught
in flagrante
or something?"
"I wondered the same thing but the clerk says it was no fault."
"Hmmm," Ed mused, "but this state still allows you to cite adultery as a reason and divorce documents are public record. Maybe he put the screws to her in exchange for going no fault and keeping her name out of the mud?"
Miranda was silent for a second, considering. "I don't know. Still, you do have to wonder if she decided to help herself to some additional alimony."