Friday McDaniels and the Case of the Missing Nutsack

Part 2: The Questioning

Vince Monteur owned the garage on Walnut Street. Friday peeled into the parking lot, threw the car in park, and ran up to the service desk. Anne Monteur sat behind the counter. She was staring at the computer screen, her eyes heavy with mascara. She looked bored but perked up when she saw Friday.          

"Good morning Friday." she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.         

"Good afternoon." he said, trying not to engage with her too much. Sure she was pretty, available, and interested, but she was also underage. He was no criminal.           

She laughed, her cheeks turning pink, "Is it noon already?"         

"About ten minutes ago. Look, I need to talk to your dad. I don't have a lot of time."          

"Oh of course." Her smile wavered and she fumbled with the stack of papers in her hands. She stood, "I'll get him." she disappeared out into the garage and Friday eyed her slender figure as she left, watching her hips sway as she did. Looking wasn’t a crime, afterall. A few minutes later she returned with her father, a small chubby man with a beard and long hair pulled back into a ponytail. Friday winced at the sight of him. He wanted to grab that ponytail and pull until he ripped it clean off.         

"Good afternoon Vince." Friday said. "I have a few questions for you."          

"Come into my office."          

Friday followed him into a small room with a paper strewn desk, filing cabinet, and metal folding chair. Vince took a seat behind the desk and Friday sat on the uncomfortable chair.

"How are you today, Friday?"           

"I'm a busy man, Vince, so let's cut the crap and get down to business. Peachtree's Premuim sack of nuts has gone missing and I need to know your whereabouts on June 17th."           

"The gold wrapped nut sack with the cream colored ribbon?"          

"The very same."         

The man shook his head, "How can there be a Candy Festival without the premium sack of nuts?"           

"Enough questions from you, sir. I understand you and Mrs. Peachtree have animosity towards one another." Friday's hands were starting to shake ever so slightly. Should have eased up on that third cup of joe, he thought. 

"No, I think you're mistaken on that."

Friday slammed his fist on Vince's desk, startling the man into nearly falling from his seat. The click of high heeled shoes approached and Vince's daughter stood at the threshold, her eyes wide, mouth agape. Friday continued without missing a beat:

"I know for a fact that Mrs. Peachtree stiffed you out of a hundred dollars and flat refused to pay when you confronted her. She embarrassed you in front of your friend and spread a rumor that you do shoddy work and that her grandbaby at three years of age could run your shop better than you."

Vince waved his daughter off. His cheeks turned pink and Friday wondered if that little rumour had reached his daughter's ears yet. Friday couldn't see how she could have missed that one, but it was possible. 

"Mrs. Peachtree has righted the wrong, Friday. She's paid her debt and said she would issue a public apology at the Candy Festval."

"When did this happen?"

"Just this morning. Why, I just got off the phone with her when you arrived."

Friday nodded slowly. So the old bitch had taken to heart what he had said.