An Unlikely Criminal

An Unlikely Criminal

Standing outside Diamond World glancing at my dead phone face waiting for the glass door to the jewelry store to open, I tossed occasional glances at my surroundings. It seemed like the 10:00 grand opening time was never going to happen. I walked across the hallway of the mall across from Diamond World and sat on the child’s musical horse that ate quarters to take them on a wild ride. I did not drop a quarter in its mouth but just sat patiently acting like I was reading email or scrolling on Facebook.

Finally, a shadow passed in front of me and walked up to the door. I heard the jingling of the keys as the shadow forced the key inside the locked door, and like time was standing still, turned the key to open. Besides the key jangler there were dozens of people waiting, like chickens waiting on their food to be tossed on the ground, for the grand opening. I did not want to appear anxious, so I strolled up behind the first group and followed them inside the wonderous jewelry store.

I stepped in behind the three bleached blond girls who looked like they had just come in from the beach. They giggled and chatted exclaiming with open mouths to each other with oohs and ahhs glancing in the glass menagerie with wide eyes at the sparkling diamonds that winked back at them.

I was not unfamiliar with the layout of the store. Afterall, this was where I spent twelve years of my life designing the displays, moving and replacing jewelry, shinning the diamonds until that sparkle glanced off the squeaky-clean glass fronts.

The store continued to welcome customers as they pushed inside. Today’s special was a discount on two carat diamond rings, a grab bag of goody’s, which amounted to coupons to use on a come-back incentive and 50% on selective watches.

It was just as I expected, too. Not enough workers on duty to handle the flow of customers. I browsed the glass counters, the displays, which was not designed to attract the high-end customers in my opinion, but held a variety of cheap stuff. I knew where the real stuff was kept, and it wasn’t in the front glass counter.

After ten minutes, I stepped in the newly designed lady's restroom. It had been remodeled to attract the customers who were serious shoppers. I was impressed but chuckled to myself realizing where the new owners placed their incentives for shoppers. Make it as accommodating as possible so they will keep coming back by giving women a beautiful bathroom. However, I had to be careful as the ceiling to floor mirrors outlined the walls. I knew hiding anything would be next to impossible if there was another customer using the amenities. As I opened the stall door to the handicap potty, three of the beach girls entered. I quickly stepped inside and pulled my oversize bag in with me. Why girls had to come to the bathroom together was still a phenomenon to me. The chatter continued as they, one at a time, chose a potty to do their business and giggle throughout the whole experience. They couldn’t stop talking to one another as you could hear the bathroom sounds emit from their bodies. They just spoke louder.

I knew there were cameras in the shopping area, so my plan was to confuse the investigation, if there was one, as to who the shoppers were that day. I rolled my linen styled capri pants up over my knees, tied them up with a bandana, unrolled my Bohemian Chic dress that was tied around my waist as a blouse and let it fall to the floor. I removed a light-weight beige, with granny squares vest from my bag along with my multi-color woven sandals that matched my Bohemian dress. My glittered platform sandals slid into my bag. I wiggled my red toenails that poked out the end of the sandals for a more comfortable feel. I then pulled my hair back with a 2 inch cloth covered plastic headband. Next, I placed the long purse straps inside my bag and pulled up the glass, round handles to the top of my purse. I slowly opened the bathroom stall door and wearing yellow tinted fake glasses I peered out before exiting. I noticed the giggling had stopped and decided it was safe to step out of my dressing/potty room. I stepped out and glanced into the eyes of an elderly lady. She was slim, with what looked like tarantula lashes, brunette colored hair extension that fell flowingly around her shoulders. She reeked of money. Looking down on me, she stepped around me as if I had cooties and limped into the handicap potty. Maybe she wondered what an attractive lady like me, mid-thirties, without a limp was doing in the handicap bathroom. I smiled and stepped out of the lavender aroma smelling ladies room.

More people were milling around the store. The employees were doing their best to aid the needs of the onslaught of customers. I watched with careful eyes who was buying what and followed with my eyes the elderly lady with the spider eyelashes and stood next to her. I would not look anyone in the eyes.

After about twenty minutes, I was ready to make my exit. I purposely placed my foot between the elderly lady’s toothpick legs. Jutting my hip out into her side, I pushed. This gesture caused her to lean over too far and down she went. Screaming as she fell, I bent down to help her up dropping it into her gapping purse. Employees rushed to her side and sat her down on a chair and gave her water. I still would not look her in her face. After a few minutes of getting herself back together and brushing her dress off, she made her way to the door. I walked beside her. She glanced at me as if to want to get far away from me.

I continued out the door at the same time as her. Then it happened. The staccato, earsplitting blare sound of the alarm went off as I suspected. I turned back as the security guards rushed to her side. She was in a state of confusion as she had no clue as to why the alarm went off as she exited the store.

I quickened my steps away from the squawking alarm. I made my way into the coffee shop that was located across from the diamond store. As I sat drinking my expresso, I watched the scene unfold. Surrounded by police, they placed the woman’s hands behind her and escorted out of the mall. My heartbeat increased as I could hear her crying, and I also spotted one spider eye lash on the floor outside of the store.

An hour and half later I walked, with a fake unsteadiness, into my living room afraid of the wrath of my husband. I knew he would not accept my explanation as to what happened at the diamond store. The hour and a half gave me enough time to imagine a good story to explain my whereabouts for those hours to avoid his abuse.

He was standing at the island in the kitchen when I entered grasping the edge. With a scrunched, uncaring look on his face, and looking me up and down, he immediately asked what was wrong followed by these questions.

“Did you get the diamonds? Did you get the expensive stuff?” he screamed.

“Well, yes and no,” I looked down answering his questions.

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Yes and no? Did you or didn’t you?” he demanded and walked up close to me. “Where in the hell have you been? You’ve been gone almost 3 hours.”

I began crying (as if that was going to help me out of this mess) and with halting breaths, I explained.

“I have been at the police station. I had the diamonds. When I walked out of the store, the alarm went off. There wasn’t anything I could do. I was caught red handed,” I cried. “They searched me and they recovered the diamonds.”

“You what? You didn’t disengage the alarm on the jewelry? You had the thing, that thingy, that disengages the alarm!” he screamed.

I felt the blow across my face, and it was a hard blow. It was so hard it knocked my headband off, and it flew across the kitchen floor. I ran to it.

He followed me and kicked me while I was bent over picking up the headband.

“Please stop!” I screamed at him.

“You idiot. How hard was it to pick those diamonds? Huh? It was an easy heist. You knew the store layout. You knew where everything was and you knew the alarm system!” he screamed and kicked me again.

While I was on the floor, I heard the click-clack of hard soled shoes coming from the living room into the kitchen. The shuffle sounded steps were quicker as they reached my husband. I looked up into the eyes of two police officers as they pulled my husband off me.

With his arms handcuffed behind his back and the reading of his rights, the officer led him out the front door. One officer stayed behind as the other one led my husband to the squad car outside.

“I am sorry we took so long before coming in to prevent him from his attack. But we had to have good reason to arrest him. I am so sorry. Let me help you up. You did good by coming to us and telling us about what really happened at the store. Mrs. Elder is fine. She explained her innocence and as we found only the alarm system in her purse and no stolen jewelry, she was released. She was not a happy camper, however. Let me get some ice for that bruise that is coming up on your face,” he said.

“I will be fine, officer. This isn’t my first rodeo with him. Just take him to the jail and do what you do. I hope that will be the last time I ever see him unless it is in divorce court.”

“Are you sure? Do you need to see a doctor?” the officer quietly asked.

“No. I just need to go lie down. Thanks for getting him.”

“I have to tell you not to leave town as we will need to question you more about his unlawful activities,” the officer said.

“O.K. And thanks. I will be fine.” I walked to the freezer for an ice pack.

Holding the ice pack to my face and my headband intwined around my fingers, I walked upstairs to my bedroom. I walked over to the bay windows and looked down on the driveway below. I watched the patrol car as it rolled out of our driveway with Trinity in the back seat.

Satisfied that he was gone, I breathed a sigh of relief. I sat down on the corner chair next to the window and untied the cloth from the headband. Being extra careful with the band, I emptied the contents on the glass jewelry holder. The gentle tapping sound was music to my ears. The diamonds settled into their new home.

I stared down at my bounty as a slow grin crossed my face.