Lorraine Bartlett - Tori Cannon-Kathy Grant 00.5 - Panty Raid (3 page)

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Authors: Lorraine Bartlett

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Panty Pincher

Kathy
sipped her wine, but then leaned forward, squinting as she looked through the windshield. “Hey, someone’s coming.”

Tori leaned forward, too. Sure enough, a figure moved in the shadows. It carried a bag.
They ducked down in the seats as the figure passed.

“It’s a guy,”
Kathy whispered.

“Yeah,” Tori agreed, but he’s going to the Dumpster, not my building.”

“Scratch one suspect.”

“Maybe not.
He could be throwing away evidence. Let’s see what he does.”

They watched the man as he retraced his steps, heading back to his own apartment bu
ilding, then sat back in their seats and resumed sipping.

“Do you ever think much about the days when we used to hang out?” Tori asked.

“All the time,” Kathy said. “It seems like my job is my life. Sometimes I wish I could step back in time … back to when anything seemed possible. Back to when I didn’t have to work nights and weekends in a job with no real future.”

Tori
nodded. “But at least you’ve got goals and made plans. When I think of the future, long-term, I don’t see Billy in it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“When you think about it, it’s kind of odd that we ever got together. Taking a breather right now is actually a good thing. Maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder. We’ll see.”

They were quiet for a while, sipping wine—crunching
cookies—just being comfortable in each other’s company. Tori finally broke the quiet. “This is kind of like Thelma and Louise.”

“Except they were criminals—
we’re
the good guys, or gals,” Kathy suggested. “And, we’d need a convertible. I don’t know about you, but I want a car that’s going to survive a rollover.” She paused. “Then again, I’m driving an aging Focus, so what the heck do I know about car safety?”

Tori smiled.
“I’m sure your Grandma Nancy would have preferred you drive a tank. That way the rest of the world would keep out of your way.”

“She was protective. Maybe overly so, but I turned out all right.
Didn’t I?”

Tori nodded.
“You’re okay.”

“Just okay?”
Katie asked.

“Better than okay.”

Kathy drained her glass. “Okay.”

Movement on the sidewalk outside another of the buildings caught Tori’s attention.
“Look,” she said, and Kathy leaned forward, too. “Sorry,” Tori apologized as it became evident that the figure walking along the sidewalk outside her building wasn’t a man, but instead was an elderly woman. Her stooped gait registered the years she’d walked on the planet. “False alarm.”

Still, the woman turned at Tori’s building and entered.

“Are you sure?” Kathy asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know that woman? Does she live in your building?”

“No.”

“Then, you can’t dismiss her as a suspect.”

“Oh, come on. Why would an old lady
want to steal my underwear?”

“Ah, that’s the question,”
Kathy said. She made sure the screw cap on the wine bottle was tight before setting it on the floor mat, then turned to put the Tupperware container, no-longer filled to the brim with cookies, on the back seat. She opened the car door.

“Where are you going?” Tori demanded.

“To get a better view.”

Kathy
got out of the car and a puzzled Tori followed.

“You can’t think—” Tori started, but
Kathy shushed her into silence.

They moved up the sidewalk along the building so that they were directly opposite Tori’s building.
The woman stayed inside for only a minute or two before she came back outside. She held something in her hand.

“Oh, no,” Tori groaned.

“Oh, yes,” Kathy said. “Come on. We’ve got to follow her.”


Why? She couldn’t possibly—”

“Tori—think outside the box.”

“I hate that expression.”

“So do I, but sometimes it works,”
Kathy said, already on the move. She took the lead and Tori reluctantly followed, trailing the woman two buildings down, where she entered. They were only a few paces behind, and stepped inside the building in time to see the door to Apartment 1 close.

“Now what do we do?” Tori hissed.

“You have to knock the door and confront her.”

“And what do I say?”

“I don’t know. Fake it.”

“Fake it?” Tori demanded.
She swallowed hard before she strode up to the door and forced herself to rap three times on the steel security door.

For
several long seconds nothing happened, but Tori could have sworn she was being eyeballed via the peephole. Then at last the door opened on a chain. A woman much younger than the one they’d followed appeared. “Yes?”

“Hi,” Tori very near
ly squealed. “My name is Tori Cannon. I live in the building two doors down.” She gestured toward Kathy. “And this is my friend Kathy. We … we—” and then she ran out of things to say.

“We were wondering about the other lady who lives here,”
Kathy piped up.

“My mother?” the woman asked.

“Yes. You see, we followed her back here after—” And that’s when Kathy ran out of things to say.

“After she visited the laundry room in my building,” Tori finished.

The woman’s brow furrowed. “What are you saying?”

“It seems that your mother
is a panty pincher,” Kathy said.

The woman’s face twisted into a malevolent glare. “What?” she demanded.

Tori swallowed. “Well, for the past couple of weeks, someone has been stealing my underwear. At first I thought it must have been some kind of pervert, but then tonight we staked out the laundry room and … well, we saw your mother go in and come out with some of my undies.”

“Are you insane?” the woman asked, her voice tight with anger.

“I don’t think so,” Kathy said. “Could we speak to her?”

“No!” the woman said, and was about to shut the door when a voice behind her called out.

“Susan, who’s at the door?”

“A couple of nuts,
mother,” the woman said tersely.

“May we
please
speak to your mother?” Kathy implored.

“No!” the woman said angrily.

“Susan!” the older woman called again, and appeared right behind her daughter.

“Hello!” Tori called.
“Can we talk to you?”

“Susan, don’t be so rude. Open the door,” the older woman commanded.

The chain was removed and the door thrown open.

“Hello!” the older woman called brightly.
“I’m Mary; and you are?”

“Tori and
Kathy,” Tori said, jerking a thumb in Kathy’s direction. “We were wondering what you were doing in the laundry room a couple of doors down.”

“Getting material,” the older woman said with pleasure.

“Material?” Kathy asked.

“Material?” her daughter asked with a curious glance over her shoulder.

“Yes,” Mary said with a broad smile.

“What do you need material for?” Tori asked.

“For my product, of course,” Mary said, as if it made perfect sense, which it did not.

“What do you make?”
Kathy asked.

“Catnip mice,” Mary explained.
She waved a hand, beckoning them inside. They followed the old woman as she trotted across the immaculate living room. In the corner of the room was a very hairy cat bed, where an elderly cat slept. Beside the little bed was a fabric tube made of purple lace.”

“I recognize the
cloth on that toy—it used to be my underwear!” Tori exclaimed.

“You must be mistaken,” Susan said firmly.

“Mary, do you always get your material from the other dryers in the complex?”

The old woman smiled. “Where else am I going to get it?
Susan won’t let me drive to the fabric store anymore. She took away my car keys.”

“Mother!”
Susan implored.

“I grow my own catnip,” Mary said proudly.
I’ve planted it in front of every one of the apartment buildings. It’s a hundred percent organic—no pesticides. Then when it grows tall enough, I pick it and dry it in my bedroom.”

“You do?” Susan demanded.

“Yes. I’ve got a bunch of cardboard under my bed. It dries out quite nicely on it. Of course it takes a couple of weeks. My first crop this year is now ready to be made into catnip toys. My other daughter, Linda, brings me pillow stuffing she gets at yard sales, and I make the catnip toys and sell them in her booth in a craft store the next town over.”

Tori’s mouth dropped open.
“Made of
my
underwear?”

“Good Lord,
Mother!” Susan practically wailed. She turned her anguished eyes toward Tori. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what to say—how to apologize.”

“Perhaps a trip to the fabric store might be in order,”
Kathy suggested. “If you got her a couple of fat quarters of fabric, it would stop her visiting the laundry rooms around the complex.”

“I’m so sorry,” Susan told Tori. “I’ll be happy to replace whatever it
is she’s taken.”

“Well, I did have a bottle of sherry that’s gone missing.”

Susan turned on her mother. “Do you know anything about that?”

“I found it.”

“Do you mind if I ask where?” Tori asked.

“In a closet.
The door was open. I figured if it wasn’t locked, nobody cared about what was inside.”

“Mother, you’re not supposed to drink alcohol. It’ll mess up your medications.”

“I only have a little drop at night—after
you
go to bed. And it’s strictly for medicinal purposes.”

Tori held up a hand. “
You don’t need to replace it. I just want her to stop taking
my
things—and anything else she’s been helping herself to from the rest of the laundry rooms in the complex.”

“Be assured, I’ll be keeping a much closer eye on her,” Susan said firmly.

“Do you have cats?” Mary asked, happily.

“Well, yes,” Tori answered.
“We both do.”

“Then perhaps you’d like one of my toys.
Maybe you’d tell your friends about them and where to get them, too.”

Tori looked at Susan, as if to get permission.
She nodded. “I think that would be very nice.”

“Yes, thank you,”
Kathy chimed in.

Mary bustled off toward what they assumed was one of the
apartment’s bedrooms.

Susan looked like she wanted to cry.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m so, so sorry about this. My mother is usually no trouble, but lately she’s been showing some signs of dementia, that’s why I had her come here to live with me. She’s a bright, happy soul and she’s always loved to sew. I must admit I didn’t pay much attention to where she was getting her crafting supplies. I assumed my sister was giving her everything she needed.”

“That’s okay. We completely understand,”
Kathy said soothingly.

Soon Mary trotted across the carpeted floor to stand in front of the open door once more.
“These are two of my newest creations.” She held them up for them to see. They were made of pale green nylon and fringed with white lace. She held one in front of her nose and inhaled deeply.

Oh no!
Tori thought.
Someone really
is
sniffing my underwear!

Mary handed a toy each to Tori and
Kathy. “Please tell your friends about them.”


Oh, we will,” Kathy promised, and Tori felt like giving her best friend a kick in the ankle.

“Again, please accept my apologies,” Susan said sincerely.

Tori nodded. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,”
Kathy called as they backed out of the apartment.

The door closed behind them, and they heard an exasperated Susan wail, “Mother!”

They hurried out of the building and headed back for Tori’s car to retrieve the wine, glasses, and what was left of the cookies.

“Well, that solves that,”
Kathy said, smiling.

“And though I’m out six pairs of panties, at least Daisy has something new to play with,” Tori said as they headed back to her apartment building. Upon closing the door, they retreated to their former position, put the glasses, bottle and cookie containe
r on the coffee table, and collapsed on the couch and chair.

“Well, that felt great,”
Kathy said. She grabbed one of the wineglasses and the bottle and poured.

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