8
I spend most of Saturday morning going over Happy Paws’ financial records, and the tune playing in the back of my mind goes something like this: Broken light notwithstanding, Leo’s store is amazing. Ooh, ooh, baby.
It’s classy, organized, well-stocked, and, judging by the turnout, clearly something the people want.
I hate it.
If I ever had doubts about what this would do to our business, they’re now gone. Pet owners who’ve been loyal to us for years were at Leo’s launch. I guess all it took for them to leave us was some glitz.
Our predicament is even clearer after Harvey brings in the mail and there’s a second notice from the power company. We have enough money for next month’s rent, but after that, it’s looking dicey. To cover our expenses, we’d need to make October our strongest month in sales since… I skim the past year’s records. Since June two years ago. At my feet, Boris lifts his sleepy head a couple of inches and sniffs the air. Then he puts it back down on top of my toes. Okay fine. The dogs need me. Pop needs me. Challenge accepted!
I spend my lunch break on internet searches like “how to make your business successful” and “make money fast.”
“Finding anything?” Pop asks, stirring cream into a cup of coffee across from me.
“So far it seems our options are to donate plasma or start driving for a delivery service. If only I wasn’t prone to anemia and didn’t already have a full-time job…” I smirk.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine, kiddo. We’ve always been fine.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t share his conviction. “Maybe,” I say instead, “but in the meantime, we really need to get Happy Paws online. We need a website, and at a very minimum, an Instagram account, too.” After all these years, we don’t even have a digital list of our customers. Everything is in Harvey’s head. Why have I never questioned that?
I pull out an empty sheet of paper and start a new list. Internet goes on top and then Sell more pet costumes . I have an Etsy shop for my creations that I started a couple of years ago that I should revive to add to what we sell in store. It’s the only added source of income that comes to mind for October. There’s also our booth at Winter Fest, but we won’t see that extra income until December. I may not be vying for the blue rosette in the amateur dog show, but we do sell well there since people come from all over with their dogs to compete.
“Any luck with the costume people?” Harvey asks.
“Let me check again.” I open the Flockify server and click to my posts. “Only the Cleopatra so far.”
One new DM awaits me, and I open it. It’s from late Thursday night. I was too busy dealing with Leo’s launch yesterday to check. I almost feel bad I’ve kept my new friend waiting.
AlCaponesGhost25: You never told me what fascinating aspect of Illinois history brings you here.
“Another riddle?” Harvey asks.
What do I tell the guy? If he’s forgotten about me soliciting business, maybe bringing it up again would be a bad idea.
“Cora?”
I look up to find Harvey watching me, one eyebrow raised. “Huh?”
He chuckles. “Never mind.” As he leaves the table, he mutters something that sounds like “Martha would be proud.”
I return my attention to the screen.
SingerQueen: Would you believe me if I said all of it?
I only have to wait a moment for a response.
AlCaponesGhost25: Hot dog girl!
The weight of my to-do list slips off my shoulders, and I smile.
SingerQueen: Definitely not answering to that.
AlCaponesGhost25: Fair enough. What’s up?
There’s a brief impulse to tell him about the past few days, but I push it away. I’d rather keep the two worlds separate.
SingerQueen: Not much. Did you make it through the week without upsetting anyone else with your superior joke standards?
AlCaponesGhost25: You mean did anyone else tell me to eff off? No, but there are definitely people in my life who I’d like to teach a lesson or two in what constitutes a good joke.
SingerQueen: Yikes.
AlCaponesGhost25: Nah it’s all good. They’ve got nothing on me. I have professional experience in dealing with opportunistic cheats.
SingerQueen: Let me guess—you run an underground gambling ring?
AlCaponesGhost25: I’m not actually Al Capone.
SingerQueen: Lol. Just his ghost. Maybe you should haunt these subpar jokesters.
AlCaponesGhost25: I will if I have to.
A shiver runs up my spine at his no-nonsense response. Something tells me I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever lessons he’d be doling out. I’m about to say so when another message appears.
AlCaponesGhost25: And no, I don’t believe for a second you’re into ALL history. No one is that nerdy. *winky face emoji*
SingerQueen: Spoken as the newbie to this forum he is.
AlCaponesGhost25: *wears innocence as a badge of pride*
SingerQueen: And yet somehow you’re a moderator here?
AlCaponesGhost25: Doing someone a favor.
SingerQueen: Aren’t you the altruist.
AlCaponesGhost25: Far from it.
I frown. This guy speaks in riddles even when he’s not trying to. Maybe he, too, is compartmentalizing. If I want to know something real about him, I might have to take the plunge first, then.
SingerQueen: Your question earlier… I’m actually here for costuming. I’m a clothing designer and sometimes people on here need my help. Not super into history if I’m being honest.
AlCaponesGhost25: LOL knew it! Very sneaky.
SingerQueen: *shrug emoji* But for you it’s the mob stuff? Or mostly just to boss people around? Did you ever hear about that restaurant by the way—Al Capone’s Hideaway?
AlCaponesGhost25: Both and ate there lots of times when I was a kid. Good times. It’s basically my only knowledge of IL history.
I stare at the screen. He used to live in the area? If he’s twenty-five like his username suggests, Jaz might know who he is.
SingerQueen: You grew up in Illinois? Where?
AlCaponesGhost25: Yup. I’ve been away a long time though.
It doesn’t escape my notice that he sidesteps my question. Then again, even a child knows not to share personal information with strangers online. I shouldn’t have asked.
SingerQueen: Away haunting people?
AlCaponesGhost25: It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.
“When you’re done with that, can you take Cho and Cap for a walk?” Harvey asks. “Otherwise, your next riddle may well be ‘Why is the rug wet?’”
Pop is right. Where did time go? I hurry to sign off with a quick Sry gotta go and then stand and stretch.
“You seem pretty captivated by whatever that is?” Harvey peers at me as he gestures to the computer. “Good to see a smile on your face, kiddo.”
“It’s just this guy in the group. He’s funny.”
“A guy, you say?”
I tut at him. “Not local, so don’t worry.” I close the laptop and reach for the leashes beneath the counter. “Come on, pups. Let’s go outside.”
It’s a busy Saturday afternoon on the Riverwalk, so I hold on extra tight to Cholula’s leash just in case. Fortunately, Leo and Tilly are nowhere to be seen. We pass the playground, the snack stand, and a sign announcing the last farmer’s market of the season coming up tomorrow. That’s why I recognized Leo’s aunt, I realize. She sometimes has a table there selling baked goods.
The thought brings me back to the launch and his curt response when I asked about his family. Maybe it’s time to do a little research. I lead the dogs to the nearest bench where I sit down and pull out my phone. Salinger + horses , I type into the search engine. The first result in the list is a hit for Salinger and Sons Royal Equine in New York. The link takes me to a landing page with pictures of gorgeous horses and endless fields of green, and a quick survey of the About page reveals it is indeed Leo’s family and that their business has been in operation since right after World War I. A picture of three older men in front of portraits of what must be their ancestors draws my attention as Leo bears a striking resemblance especially to one of them. “Hello, Leo’s dad,” I say.
I’m about to close the page when I land on a link in the top right corner. Canine King, it says.
“Of course,” I mumble. Royal Equine, Canine King… So, he’s in the family business. But didn’t he say he used to be an investment banker? I click through to the canine side of the business and snoop around some more. Under locations, I enter my zip code, but only the downtown Chicago branch comes up. A site search for Leo’s name similarly yields nothing.
“Huh?” I feel like I’ve stumbled upon something, but what exactly, I have no idea.