LOVE AND JUST

CHAPTER 9 : WE REALLY NEED TO GET DONE

WESTBROOK MAX -INN ( 11 AM )

The shop was big.

She pushed open the door to Max-Inn and the world outside went quiet.

The air inside was different. Warm. It smelled like peonies and something expensive, like leather that had never been touched by rough hands. The floors were marble so pale they looked like milk, and the light came down in soft gold pools, making every dress look like it was already in love with her.

There weren’t racks crammed with clothes. There were statements. A single ivory silk gown on a glass mannequin. A cashmere coat folded like it was resting. A handbag that cost more than her whole year's savings, sitting alone under a spotlight.

It smelled like power. Soft, clean, and expensive.

Eliza walked in boldly, with her hair swinging behind her. She walked calmly, looking at the bags and dresses. Some with admiration and others with dissatisfaction.

She acted like a wealthy woman who seemed to have good taste in fashion. She made sure her feet treaded every aisle, taking note of each one. She pretended as if she was looking for a particular brand.

After her tour around the shop, she searched on the internet for ‘trendy bags limited stock’, and a picture appeared — Chloé Paddington Suede Shoulder Bag. She knew very well that the bag was new and not available at the shop, she had checked that first.

She walked to the receptionist.

“Good day, Ma’am,” the receptionist said politely as she saw her approaching.

She had a warm honey-brown skin that glowed under the soft boutique lights. Her hair was styled in neat, glossy braids pulled back into a low bun, with a few soft curls framing her face. She wore just enough makeup to look polished — long lashes, a touch of lip gloss, and brows that looked like they were drawn by an artist.

Her uniform was simple but elegant: a cream satin blouse tucked into a tailored black skirt that hit just above the knee. A delicate gold name tag that said “Jasmine” sat on her chest, and she wore small gold hoops that caught the light when she smiled.

“Please, can you help me find this bag?” Eliza asked, showing her the photo she had uploaded from the internet.

“Oh, no, please. Not at the moment. We’ll restock very soon, but we have other bags you may love,” the receptionist replied with a smile.

“Yes, I’ve seen them, but my sister prefers this particular one. When will this bag be available?” Eliza asked.

“Next Monday, please.”

“Oh, that’s quite far. She needs it by Friday. She’ll be attending a program and she wants to have that bag,” Eliza said, her voice full of concern.

“We’re sorry about that, but that’s when our new goods will arrive.”

“Hmm, that’s fine. I’ll let her come visit herself so she can make her choice among the ones you have,” Eliza said. She spoke like the women who belonged to a social group in the upper class.

“Okay, Ma’am,” the receptionist said respectfully.

“May I know when the shop is closed? She is busy at the moment and might come by later.”

“7 p.m., please.”

“Okay. On weekdays only?” Eliza asked again.

“No, please. We do open on weekends too.”

“At what time do you close on weekends? Would love to bring my friends here. They love these trendy bags.”

“Quite early, at 4 p.m., please.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll come back later then.”

“Okay, Ma’am.”

“Will you be here till dusk?” Eliza asked again.

“No. My shift ends at 2 p.m.,” the receptionist said, pointing at two staff chatting behind a shelf. “But those two will be here. They close the shop by 6.”

“Alright, I won’t be late then,” Eliza said, about to leave.

“Okay, Ma’am, do have a nice day,” the receptionist said with a big smile.

“You too,” Eliza responded and left.

She walked towards the exit and when she got to the glass door, she glanced back at the receptionist and saw her putting money into a saver. Eliza smiled slyly and walked out.

She decided to take a stroll around the hood before picking a cab home. She took note of every detail. Paid attention to every single thing she saw. Even the shops and other buildings on the stretch. There were coffee shops, bakery and ice cream shops. She walked past all and stopped a cab right after the bakery shop.

She got home not so long after. The house was quiet when she arrived. In the living room, the TV was on but on a low volume which could not be heard outside. On the screen, a music video was playing. Marco and Julien were on the couch. Julien was sleeping while Marco was on his phone.

“Hey, guys,” Eliza said as she entered the hall.

“Hey, sup?” Marco asked, looking at her. “Went out to find some info. How was it?”

“Great,” Eliza said with a smile.

“You do the best,” Marco said, giving her a thumbs up. “Where is my brother?”

“In his room, having a nap,” Marco said, picking up his phone again.

“All right,” Eliza said and walked past him, heading to Caleb’s door. She knocked gently on his door. The third time she knocked, the door creaked open, showing Caleb’s tired face.

“Hey, princess,” he said in a tired voice.

“Hey, I just came back from info search.”

“All right, I hope it went well,” Caleb asked, wiping his face with his palms.

“Yep, as always,” Eliza said simply.

“Great. I will call you later to give me the details. I really need to rest,” Caleb said.

“Sure, later then,” Eliza said and left his door.

She walked to her room door. Marco saw her at the hall and asked, “Did you see him?”

“Yes, I did,” she answered and went to her room.

In her room, she dumped her purse on the mirror chair and threw herself on her bed, with her back facing the ceiling. She thought of the receptionist she enquired from. Poor thing, she doesn’t know she had just given her enough details to rob the shop. She didn’t go to purchase a bag or anything, just to gather info.

ASHFORD HILLS POLICE HEAD OFFICE - ( 5 PM )

It was dusk and the head office was busy.

The double glass doors hissed open every three seconds — cops rushing in with coffee stains on their uniforms, suspects cuffed and cursing, lawyers in cheap suits shouting into phones.

Phones rang off the hook. Not one, but twenty at once. A sharp, endless trill that drilled into your skull.

“Westbrook PD, hold — Westbrook PD — I said HOLD!”

The front desk was chaos. A mountain of files, some sliding off, some stamped URGENT in red that no one had time to read. A female officer chewed gum too fast while typing with two fingers, yelling at a rookie to move the drunk guy off the floor.

The air smelled like cheap coffee, sweat, printer ink, and floor cleaner that wasn’t winning.

Beyond the bullpen — rows and rows of metal desks, all dented, all cluttered. Monitors glowed with CCTV footage paused mid-robbery. Mugshots taped to the edge. Half-eaten burgers going cold.

Detectives in rolled-up sleeves argued over a whiteboard covered in red strings and bank locations — your last job circled three times.

Footsteps everywhere. Chairs scraping. A suspect banging on the holding cell bars, screaming he was innocent.

Andrew and Freda walked out of the board room. The meeting had just ended.

Andrew was going through some files as he walked to his office and Freda followed him at a close pace.

“We really need to get done with this case,” Andrew said when they entered their office.

“Yes, Captain Harris wouldn’t allow me on any case if we don’t,” Freda said.

Andrew exhaled deeply and dropped the files on his desk. Turning to the window, he squinted his eyes and ruffled his hair.

“We are leaving, right?” Freda asked, arranging files and putting them in her drawer.

“Yes, it’s dusk. We can’t work now,” he said, adjusting his belt.

They left the office and used the elevator to reach the ground floor. Andrew walked to the car park outside with Freda beside him. They hopped into his car and drove off.

While in the car, Freda spoke. “I would like to see Hilary, can we go home together?”

Andrew shot her a glance from the corner of his eyes. “You mean an invite to have dinner with my family?” He replied teasingly.

“Oh, stop it,” Freda sneered, hitting his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m driving,” Andrew said, laughing.

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