"Mr. Anders, we have a small problem with a shoplifter."
Derek knew when it was time to run to management with a problem rather than trying to deal with it himself and this was definitely one of those times.
Mr. Anders gave Derek a hard look. "Why come to me with that sort of problem? You know the firms policy. Hand them over to the police and formally charge them."
"I know the policy, sir, but I wasn't sure you'd want it applied to Susan," Derek said respectfully.
"Susan? Maybe you'd better explain further."
"Yes, sir. About a week ago I noticed Susan in the store and she helped herself to some cosmetics. I stopped her on the way out and explained that she'd been observed. I also explained store policy. She was very apologetic. Said she'd just forgotten and returned to pay for them items.
One of the other members in the security room said that he'd seen her do the same thing before but hadn't felt game to call her on it.
Just before I came up to see you she did it again. Helped herself to some cosmetics and was walking out without paying. It's not forgetfulness. She's doing it because she thinks she can."
"I see. What did you do this time?" asked Mr. Anders.
Derek smiled grimly. "I had her brought into the security area and informed her that she could wait there while I contacted the police, as it was my intention to have her charged. She wasn't happy about it."
"I can imagine. Have you contacted the police yet?"
"No, sir. I thought as she's your daughter you might want to have a word with her rather than having us do anything official. I also thought having her sit down there sweating wouldn't do her any harm either," said Derek.
"Thank you. I'd just as soon you'd handed her to the police rather than dumping it on me," sighed Mr. Anders. "Still, it wouldn't look good for the Managing Director's daughter to be charged I suppose."
Derek waited while Mr. Anders considered.
"I'll come down," he finally decided. "I can read her a better riot act in the security room than up here. Blast it. She's twenty. Time she pulled her finger out and started doing something with her life."
Susan was impatiently waiting in the ante-chamber to the security room. That oaf, Derek, that cretin, wouldn't dare charge her. Her father would have his head. It was all a bluff to scare her. She paced, fuming.
She spun around when the door open, swearing at Derek as he entered. Her voice broke off as her father followed Derek into the room.
Mr. Anders looked at his daughter. "Interesting use of language you have there, young lady," he observed. He moved on into the main security room, with Derek and Susan following. "You," he told the other staff member watching the cameras. "Take a hike for ten minutes."
"Now do you care to explain yourself, Susan?" he asked.
"It's his fault, Daddy," stated Susan, pointing at Derek. "He's been trying to date me and when I said no he made up these charges against me. He said if I don't go out with him he'll have me arrested." She burst into tears.
Mr. Anders glanced enquiringly at Derek.
"The conversation I had her with your daughter was taped," Derek informed him. "Your daughter was informed of this at the time but I don't think she was listening. We also have the video evidence. I have the tapes from today and last week available if you want to see them."
Mr. Anders switched his gaze to Susan. She went red and looked elsewhere.
"Damnit, Susan," her father said. He turned to Derek. "If you'll excuse us for ten minutes, I'd like to have a father/daughter chat."
Derek nodded and turned to leave. Susan rose to her feet and looked at Derek. "Fuck you very much," she hissed. "I'll get you for this, you moron."
The door closed behind him and Derek heard Mr. Anders starting to speak. He sounded truly pissed. Derek could almost feel sorry for Susan. Almost.
- - -
"Naomi," cooed Susan, "didn't you say your new boyfriend was a bikie?"
"Mike belongs to a club, but he's not a Hell's Angel or anything like that," said Naomi. "Why?"
"I had the impression that he and his friends are a bit rough at times and don't mind bending the law a little. I was just wondering if you could arrange for me to meet with some of them?"
"What are you up to?" asked Naomi.
"I just need them to scare off a stalker," explained Susan. "The police are useless at that sort of thing. I thought a couple of bikies giving him the word might make an impression."
"It could at that," said Naomi with a grin. "Come around to my place tonight about eight. Mike and a couple of his friends will be there."
- - -
"Alright, Susan," said Mike coldly. "Just lay it on the line. You obviously want us to beat up this bloke and put him out of commission for a while. Now tell us why."
Susan um'ed and ah'ed a bit, but Mike and the boys got the gist. She hated this poor bastard's guts for some reason. It was purely personal.
Mike looked at the others and they shrugged. Her money was good and a fight and a beating were fine by them. He nodded. "Give us details on who he is and where we can find him," said Mike.
Susan smiled. "His name's Derek and he works at my father's store. Here's his photo," she said, handing out a print of a photo she'd taken with her phone.
Mike looked at the photo and started. "I know this guy," he said. "I'm just trying to remember where from." He passed the photo around.
Carlos spoke up. "I'm surprised you remember this guy, Mike," he said. "You were pretty much out of it when we met him."
Mike looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Do tell," he said.
"We owe this guy. Remember that little prang last year and a guy stopped and helped us out?"
Mike nodded.
"That's him. If he hadn't been there, things would have been a lot worse."
"He's the guy who did all that emergency first aid stuff?" asked Mike, smiling grimly when he saw Carlos's nod.
Susan looked at the bikies, who were now all glaring at her. Something had gone wrong, but she didn't know what.
"Bad news, sweetheart," said Mike. "We owe this guy. Big time. We're not going to let you get him beat up. You now have a problem; us."
