Alex Harris 00 - Armed

only one explanation for everything that’s going on.”
    “What’s that, Millie?” Sam asked around a forkful of fried noodles. My sister, multi-talented, could talk and shovel in the food at the same time. Oh, and still manage to keep her figure trim even after having two kids and never doing anything more strenuous than lifting a fork full of food.
    “Drugs.”
    “Jesus,” Sam managed to murmur, as a noodle hung from her lip.
    “Drugs! What do you mean drugs?” I asked.
    “Look Alex, it all fits.” Millie reached for an egg roll. “You have strange goings-on out in the factory. People are lying. There’s a sinister looking person lurking outside Mrs. Scott’s house. The printout is probably some sort of code for who gets what. It’s got to be drugs.”
    I just stared at our assistant. Given Millie’s propensity for the melodramatic, this revelation should not have come as such a shock, but drugs ?
    Millie pulled the copies from under her curry chicken carton.
    “Look at these numbers. You think they represent sizes. I say they represent quantity. How many kilos to send with each order. Oh, and by the way, have you noticed any coffee grounds on the factory floor?” Millie asked with a knowing gleam in her eye.
    I looked at her again this time with my mouth opened wide just for variety. “What did they put in that chicken?” I grabbed the carton to look inside. “And what the heck is this about coffee grounds?”
    “Remember in that Eddie Murphy movie, the thugs hid the drugs in coffee grounds.”
    I shook my head. “What Eddie Murphy movie?”
    Sam stopped eating, this time a noodle stuck to her chin. “You remember, the only one that made money. Alex, Millie may be on to something. Maybe Mrs. Scott suspected something fishy going on and figured it out and got killed.”
    “Yes, but how would she know to look at the printout? The printout isn’t going to give you any information that someone hasn’t already put in. We already know Mrs. Scott asked Monica to print it out. How would she have known what to ask for? No,” I shook my head quickly, “I don’t think the printout has anything to do with it. I think she wanted to check out the new system.”
    Millie said, “Okay, fine. But that still doesn’t mean drugs aren’t involved.”
    “Why are you so fixated on drugs? What kind of new club have you joined?” I eyed Millie suspiciously.
    “I’m not fixated on drugs. It just seems everything that happens lately is drug related.”
    “Exactly how do you think drugs fit into the picture?” Sam asked.
    “Well, we have a factory, right? They ship these things all over. And they’re hollow !”
    “What’s hollow?” I pushed away from the desk totally stuffed and even more sleepy.
    “The mannequins.”
    “How on earth do you know they’re hollow?” I couldn’t believe the direction this conversation had taken.
    “I knocked one over at a store at the mall. The arms and legs are solid but the body is hollow.”
    “So you think the factory is shipping drugs to far off places inside their mannequin bodies. Millie, this is Indian Cove.” I sighed.
    “Someone got murdered right here in our quaint little town, remember?”
    She had a point.
    “Someone’s putting drugs inside the bodies and then sending them out. I’m sure of it,” Millie said.
    “Ridiculous. For one thing, they’d weight a ton.” I folded my arms and stretched my legs out. “Someone would figure that out.”
    “Right. Mrs. Scott,” Millie stated emphatically.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
    “Which is?” Sam asked.
    Millie sat up straighter and her eyes danced. “We go to the factory and have a look around. You said they’re in the process of getting out all the year-end orders so there should be a lot of bodies piled around waiting.”
    “Alex, you’ve got the key, right? And you know the security code,” Sam added eagerly.
    “I can’t believe you two! You’re accusing Mr. Poupée of dealing in drugs!”
    “No one said anything about Mr. Poupée, but I remember him being on your suspect list,” Sam chided me.
    “It could be anybody. Maybe that vile man Jerry. Or maybe Richard Sheridan. You said he dressed fancy. Drug dealers always dress nice. I say we go have a look around,” Millie pleaded.
    “I second the motion.” Sam looked at her watch. “It’s just about nine. There won’t be anyone around. Let’s drive by and if the coast is clear