The Case of the Invisible Dog Read Online Free Page B

for me every morning for the next two weeks. During the day Shirley would pop in and out, always stopping by my desk to say hello and ask if I was enjoying my job.
    “Yes,” I always replied, because what else could I say? I needed the money. I didn’t want to go back to waiting tables. At that point I would have said anything to hold on to my job even though I was bored out of mind.
    “Is there anything you need?”
    “No. I don’t think so,” I answered the first few times, feeling awkward and still wanting to make a good impression.
    On the fourth morning of my employment, I finally brought up the subject of finding me something to do. Shirley had come out of her office for the third time that day, asking me yet again if I was enjoying my job.
    “Yes,” I said as usual. “But…” My voice trailed off as she stood there smiling at me. I just wasn’t sure how to come out and ask her.
    “What is it?” she asked with just a hint of impatience in her tone.
    “Well, I mean…”
    “Out with it, Tammy!” she commanded with an impatient flourish of her hands.
    “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” I asked uncomfortably.
    “Not at present,” she replied, unflustered. “When there is I shall let you know. Until then, just continue to keep yourself occupied and stay near the phone. I believe that there are some mindless games of diversion on the computer I provided that might offer some pleasant diversion. Computers are useful things, I suppose, but I prefer to employ my own wits, brains, and imagination rather than relying on a machine. One day I may have to surrender to all this new technology, but for now I keep up the good fight. Oh, and always make sure there is a fresh pot of hot water for our clients,” she added with a brisk clap of her hands. With that she turned on her heel and cloistered herself in her office for the remainder of the afternoon.
    I finally started going downstairs to Hobson’s Bakery for coffee and a donut every morning so that I had something to look forward to. Most of the time I had lunch there, too. The owner, Mrs. Hobson, served great food. She offered fresh soups, salads, breads, and a variety of sandwiches. The place did a good business for lunch and had a nice homey atmosphere complete with checkered tablecloths, antique photos of Springville from the turn of the previous century, and small vases filled with fresh flowers on each of the tables.
    Mrs. Hobson looked like the perfect person to run her own little restaurant. She was a short, heavyset, middle-aged woman with plump cheeks, bright blue eyes, and soft brown hair that she wore pinned back in a bun. She always wore a ruffled apron over her shirt and slacks. I’d see her smiling and chatting with the other customers. But from the very first time I went inside, all I ever got from her was a gruff “Hello” before she grabbed a menu and quickly showed me to a table—usually the one right next to the kitchen door.
    I couldn’t figure out what I had done to offend her until one day, as I stood at the cash register to pay my bill, the little bells on the doorknob clanged, and Mrs. Hobson got a funny expression on her face. And when I say funny, I mean the way Aunt Ilene used to look if I ever burped at the dinner table. I turned to see what had caught her attention, and saw Shirley coming in the door with her usual brisk stride.
    “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hobson,” she boomed out cheerfully, stopping next to me.
    “Hello,” Mrs. Hobson said curtly through pursed lips.
    “I see you have met my assistant, Tammy,” Shirley said with no seeming awareness that Mrs. Hobson appeared less than thrilled to see her. “I was hoping that she would patronize your fine establishment. I am always so preoccupied that it is a relief to know she will have someone else with whom to converse and socialize. With all you have in common, I am confident that the two of you will quickly become great friends.
    “In a way I envy you