Ms. Stacey H. Bee and the Shoe Fiasco

       Mrs. Stacey H. Bee lived at Honeybee Hollows in her 4 room apartment. She had a parlour, with lavish decorations, as she was very stylish, a kitchen where she could cook gourmet meals, a bedroom, where she could design avant-garde outfits, and a shoe closet. Yes, a shoe closet. It was lined with rows and rows of shoes, all of them different, some of them designed by herself. She was a designer, and had her own successful, very popular, may I add, boutique. She sold all sorts of things, from jewelry to shoes to silk scarves to dresses and more.
       One day, she noticed a man, who seemed very interested in her selection of hand dyed Italian imported moccasins.  She went up to him, and he said, through a thick German accent, "I am looking for shoe for my emplo-- wife." She wondered why he only said "shoe", not "shoes", but Stacey figured it was just the accent. Anyways, she had just gotten a new shipment of silk, and she was really excited to try out a new pattern she had found. She checked to make sure there was no other customers, and she turned out the lights and closed up.
       The next day, she had an armload of scarves, no where to put them, and a locked door that opened out, not pushed in. The strange German was there, waiting impatiently looking at his watch. When she got to the door, Stacey was greeted by a angry man. "You're late! You were supposed to open 15 minutes ago! Have you ever heard of punctuality?" Stacey, who never opened at exactly 9:00, was appalled. No one, except malls, and places like McDonalds, ever opened at the time listed. "Well, I don't know what things are like in Europe," Stacey told him, "But here in the US, the hour are more like suggestions, not rules." He glared. Stacey, feeling a little tension, quickly said, "I've seen you around my store a lot. I think it's time we were properly introduced. I'm Stacey. And you are..." The German glanced around nervously. After a while, he slowly, as if trying really hard not to slip up, said, "I am Gustaff. It is a pleaser to meet you." She opened the doors, and Mr. Gustaff H. Bee made a beeline, (no pun intended), to the moccasins. Again.
       This went on for several days, when one week she noticed that one of every color or print of the size 7 moccasins seemed to be missing. Stacey was very annoyed, because now she had just lost probably over $300 in sales, because you can't sell only one shoe, unless you live in a pirate village. She suspected that it was Nina, her rival from Santa Clara. However, she hadn't been around much, so that put her out of the question. Stacey was stumped! Finally, she went to the police and told them about her problem. The police chief said, "We will see what we can do, sign this paperwork then I have a question to ask you." The chief pulled a file up on her computer, then turned the wide-screen HD monitor so Stacey could see it. There was a blown- up picture of a man on half the screen, and an artists rendition on the other side.
       Stacey gasped. The chief, worried and slightly confused, asked her, "Before you gasped, I was going to ask you if you had seen this man around. He is on the Top 10 Most Wanted List in 7 countries, including, but no limited to, France, Germany, Greece, Britain, and Canada. However,  judging by your reaction, I am inferring that you have?" Stacey, still in shocked, could only nod. She then said meekly, "That's Gustaff! He, he was my friend!" The chief looked at her sympathetically. Suddenly, she [the chief] had an idea. What if, the chief thought to herself, Gustaff is a false name, and the thief at Stacey's shop is this man? "I have an idea," the chief started. "But it will involve your cooperation. Are you up for it?" Stacey, having recovered from her shock, replied, "Yes, as long as we get those shoes back," At this point the chief nodded, "and nobody gets hurt. Deal?" The chief thought those were reasonable requests, and printed out more paperwork to get Stacey's official consent.
       Later, at a meeting with several officers, Stacey, and the chief, they laid out the plan. "Okay, so here's what we're going to do," the chief started. "Our two operatives are to catch Hrotger, the fugitive black-market smuggler, case we've been working on, and to catch a thief of several valuable shoes, and I have a suspicion that the two are the same person. We are going to hide in this young lady's shop, have backup surrounding, and have plainclothes officers around. Hrotger goes to Stacey's shop, the Emporium of Design, almost every day at the same time without fail. He apparently spun a very convincing story, as he fooled Stacey. The plan is to have Stacey get there early, and open up shop about 30 minutes before she normally does. Hrotger will hopefully come in, where we will proceed to arrest him. If he tries to make a run for it, that's where the backup comes in. Any questions?"
       The meeting ended, and the next day the plan was in action. The trap was set. Hrotger, apparently surprised that Stacey actually opened at the time listed, asked why. "Well," Stacey began, "I took your feed back into account and decided that it really would avoid a lot of hassle and confusion if I opened at the time listed. Please, come in!" Hrotger followed her in, and Stacey nonchalantly locked the door behind her. She hustled to the back room, calling over her shoulder, "I just have to get all of the systems turned on after the weekend." She whispered in her radio, "He's in. Ready whenever you are." She turned on the lights, and seconds later heard a shout, and a loud voice saying, "Hrotger, you are under arrest."
       All went well after that. The police raided Hrotger's apartment, Stacey got the shoes back, and the world had become safer with yet another criminal behind bars. Keep reading my blog for weekly posts, (usually at least 2 per week), I hope you enjoyed the first story in the Honeybee Hollows collection!

Over & Out,
Elise G.