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Mignon let Delaine dab some more, then grimaced and gave a reluctant, “I suppose.” She sighed deeply, tried to pull herself together, and said, “What happened was—I’d just returned from having lunch with a friend.” Sniffle. “But when I opened the front door, certainly not expecting anyone to be inside, there he was—this madman! And my beautiful boutique was in shambles!”
“So it was a male intruder that you surprised?” one of the newly arrived officers asked. His nametag said p. barron.
Mignon nodded tearfully. “I’m pretty sure it was.”
“And he didn’t harm you in any way?” Officer Barron asked.
Mignon shook her head and glanced at Delaine for reassurance. “He kind of shoved me aside and ran outside.”
“Scary,” Delaine said.
“Any idea who it might have been?” Officer Barr asked. “Ever seen him before?”
“I don’t think so,” Mignon said. She turned to Delaine and said, “At first I thought maybe that awful Ginny Bell might be involved—well, she still could be—but I know this wasn’t her. Ginny’s about the size of an ugly stick bug and this person was larger. Stronger. And he wore a mask.”
“What kind of mask?” Theodosia asked. “Like from a Halloween costume?”
“Like a bandanna,” Mignon said. “A dark blue one. Over the lower half of his face. And he was also wearing...” Mignon touched the top of her head. “A cap. A baseball cap that was pulled way down so you could barely see his eyes.” She shuddered. “But I could see them drilling into me and they looked mean.”
“What about his clothing?” Officer Barron asked.
Mignon shook her head. “I don’t know. I was so stunned, so terrified, that I didn’t know how to react, least of all take a detailed inventory of his wardrobe.” Now she sounded both angry and petulant.
“We’re just trying to help, ma’am,” Officer Barr said.
“I know, I know. It’s just that I was so darned scared,” Mignon cried.
Delaine put an arm around her. “Of course you were, sweetheart. You went through a terrible ordeal.” She glanced at Theodosia. “Theo, what do you think?”
“I don’t know about the vandalism to the merchandise,” Theodosia said, “but the graffiti on the walls is a little strange.”
“You think so?” Delaine said.
All three officers looked at Theodosia.
“I kind of hate to say this, but it’s slightly reminiscent of a local artist named Booker,” Theodosia said.
“How do you know this, ma’am?” Officer Barr asked.
“Because I’ve seen Booker’s work,” Theodosia said. “Booker does murals on local buildings as well as large paintings on canvas. Most of them are done in an aggressive graffiti style.”
The three officers exchanged looks, then Officer Barr said, “We’re going to bring in an investigator. One of our detectives.” He turned to Mignon. “Mrs. Claxton, we’d like you to stick around and speak with him when he gets here.”
“Where would I go?” Mignon screeched. “Excuse me, but in case you haven’t noticed, this is like a toxic waste dump. I have to start cleaning immediately. Monday was supposed to be my grand opening.” She suddenly looked lost and helpless. “Now I don’t know what to do.”
“First things first,” Theodosia said, “you have to change your locks.”
“And make sure they’re better, stronger locks,” Officer Barr said. “That one on your back door was busted clean through.”
“We can give you the name of a reputable locksmith,” Officer Barron said.
“Do you have anyone who can help you clean up?” Delaine asked Mignon. Clearly she was antsy to get going now that the initial shock had worn off.
“My two employees,” Mignon said. “Sasha and Joyce. They’re brand-new, but I can give them a call.”
“Good thinking, dear,” Delaine said. She looked over at Theodosia. “Theo? Any other ideas before we take off?”
“We’d like to know more about this artist Booker,” Officer Barr said.
