Sophie Cruz woke with a start, her cell phone ringing beside her. She was covered in sweat with the covers balled up around her feet. 

Just as she was missing the call, she grabbed the phone. With her bleary, half-asleep eyes, she saw two things. The first, and most annoying, was that it was 5am. The second and more crucial was that it was Bradley McLean. 

If he was calling, he had to have a good reason. 

Sophie redialed and waited for him to pick up, eyes closed, hoping she could go back to sleep.

“Hello,” Bradley said nervously.

“What’s happening?”

It was too early in the morning for niceties.

“The store’s wrecked.”

That woke her up. Sophie sat up.

“What? How bad is it? What happened?”

“Well, it’s not good. It might just be easier for you to see it.”

“Seriously, you can’t be a bit more descriptive?”

It sounded like Bradley was adjusting his phone. She could hear his stubble brushing against the receiver.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “But by the time you get down here, the police should be gone.”

Sophie shook her head. As usual, Bradley had made the right call.

“Fair, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Sophie hung up and tried to jump out of bed, but her feet were being held down. Nestled between her ankles was her Yorkshire Terrier, Casey. He must have settled there after she finally stopped spinning around in her sleep. She felt guilty; she needed to get ready and would probably ruin the little dog’s sleep yet again.

She did her best to wriggle out of bed without him noticing. She’d wake him up after she was dressed. He’d need to be let out, but he was too cute not to sleep in.

Sophie parked her dark blue, fully loaded pickup truck in the parking lot of her convenience store right beside Bradley’s small, silver electric car. She used to make fun of him for it, given they were in the sticks and miles away from any charging stations, but he was exact in everything. He always made that tiny battery work for him.

Climbing out of the vehicle, she straightened her collared shirt. Every time she came into one of her businesses, she wore the uniform. She had a dress shirt version of the usual beige and green polo and wore designer black jeans, but there was solidarity in matching attire. She even had her name embroidered on the breast pocket.

The sun was just beginning to rise. She used her side mirror to check herself one last time. She’d rushed her usual morning routine, and her foundation wasn’t well blended. She hadn’t covered her tired raccoon eyes, and her red lipstick wasn’t applied with the usual care. She scraped a smear off her front teeth as she tried to plump her limp brown hair. She sighed, making a mental note to get her highlights done this week.

It was good enough for Bradley, but not for her. She hoped she’d be gone before the morning staff showed up. She wanted as few people as possible to see her looking her age.

As she approached the entrance, she was greeted by a paper sign up in the window that read, “Temporarily closed, sorry for the inconvenience.”  

She sighed and nudged the door open with her elbow. Stepping in, she took in the absolute disarray of her business.

The center aisle shelves had been knocked over and shoved toward the walls of the long convenience store. Most of the merchandise lay smashed or broken beneath the heavy metal shelving. Glass, plastic and bits of food were strewn all over the floor.

In the middle of it stood Bradley, trying his best to sweep everything into a pile. Everything that wasn’t smearing, at least. He wore jeans and a plaid shirt with purple, grey, and black stripes. As informally as he was dressed, he was also wearing black suspenders, which gave him a look somewhat out of time. He turned to look at her, his short brown hair dirty and unwashed, and nervously scratched at his manicured goatee.

“Christ’s sake, what happened here?” Sophie asked, gesturing across the trashed room. “Were we robbed?”

Bradley shook his head.

“No,” he said, rubbing his tired blue eyes, “Rodney did this.”

Sophie did her best not to react, imposing her award-winning pokerface. If anyone else she might have overreached, just to sell it. But Bradley knew her. He’d notice she wasn’t the least bit surprised.

“Here,” Sophie said, handing Bradley one of the two thermal cups of coffee she had in her hands.

Bradley blinked rapidly.

“You know, you’re the best.”

“I know. So, what? Did he go stir-crazy here by himself? Did he steal anything?”

“It would seem that way. And yes, all the cash from the register.”

Sophie shook her head.

“What a little shit. So, he stole all our money, and then wrecked the place for fun?”

She looked over the room again, annoyance turning to anger. Shoving all the shelves to the side had scratched the floor. It wasn’t just going to take time to clean up. There were going to be some repairs, too. And why?

“Was he really that mad we weren’t moving him to the day shift?” she said, finally gathering her thoughts.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure we had anything to do with it.”

“Oh, don’t get started with that stuff again,” Sophie said, gesturing wildly. “Yeah, this is a bit extreme, but it’s still within the realm of possibility that it’s just Rodney being an absolute dickhe—”

“He attacked someone, Soph.”

Sophie stopped, allowing her hands to fall to her sides.

“Who?”

“One of our regulars, a trucker. He’s the one who called the police, and then they called me.”

“Is he okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, he got scratched up, but he’s all right.”

Sophie wiped her eyes with her free hand.

“Okay, well, we’ll apologize to him. Talk to his lawyer if we have to…”

“It’s not that simple. I looked at the tapes.”

“And what about them?” Sophie asked, hoping she wasn’t just feeding into Bradley’s obsession.

Bradley gestured towards the staff room and walked Sophie in. The place was a mess, as usual. Employees’ coats hung all over the hooks beside the doors. Bags and backpacks slumped against the walls. The desk itself was a trap for all lost stationery and drink containers.

It’s a mess, but it’s home.

Bradley played the footage of the altercation.

Sophie watched as Rodney glared at the trucker without saying a word to him… how he leapt across the counter and chased him down. Sure, the trucker might have come out with only scratches. But with the way Rodney acted, it was clear he would have done more damage if given the opportunity.

“It still might be a mental breakdown,” Sophie said, unable to even convince herself.

“Just keep watching.”

Sophie watched as Rodney knocked over every shelf, shoving them to the sides of the room like they were nothing, pushed beyond the limits of his scrawny body by some unknown focus. He then paced up and down the length of the room, kicking things out of the way with his eyes fixed on the floor. She couldn’t see his face well, but it looked like he was talking to himself.

“It goes on like that for twenty minutes,” Bradley interjected. “Then he just bolts out of the doors.”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s clearly disturbed. But it would be an overreaction to assume there’s anything else to it. More importantly, we need to get everything cleaned up for the morning crew.”

Bradley shrugged.

“I asked everyone to take the morning off. It’ll take me at least until mid-afternoon to get this place ready for the crew, let alone customers.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Sophie said, already feeling the tension deep in her shoulders. “You’ll also need time to figure out what to tell them.”

“Soph, listen. Are you sure it’s safe for them to be here at all?” Bradley asked quietly, conspiratorial. “With everything that’s happened…”

There it was, that old lingering suspicion.

“I don’t want to talk about this again, Brad. They’re safe to be here during the day, so why wouldn’t they say be safe to be here at night?”

“I know it would look weird, but maybe just for a little while, we close–”

“I said drop it, Brad. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and I don’t want to get conspiratorial about this.”

She saw the protest sizing up into his chest, but he kept it there. They’d worked together for years; Bradley knew how to pick his battles.

“Right,” he said, defeated. “I have to finish cleaning.” 

“I can help for a bit, but I have to go find someone to replace Rodney.”

“Isn’t that a little soon?” Bradley asked, walking back out into the shop.

Sophie followed and closed the office door behind her.

“Why would it be too soon? I mean, the police have him in custody by now.”

“Except they don’t.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed.

“What? But it’s been hours.”

“They found no sign of him, and it turns out he gave us a fake address. We don’t know where he is. He didn’t drive, so there is only one place to escape to.”

Sophie stared out the window at the endless birch forest surrounding them.

“Into the woods.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we have to move forward, assuming they are going to find him. We certainly can’t have him come back here. Not after all of this.”

“But what if he comes back?” Bradley asked, with a tinge of fear entering his weary voice.

“Then we call the cops. Simple as that,” She said, fully expecting a rebuttal.

She wasn’t even convincing herself at this point.

“Simple as that…” Bradley echoed before shaking his head. “None of this is simple, Soph. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

“Maybe not. But all we can do is act like it is. I’ll act like this is a normal business and find a new employee. And you act like a normal manager and reassure the staff.”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll tell them everything is fine.”

“Because it is.”

Sophie winked at Bradley, but the gesture came off as forced.

“Also, do the usual messaging for new staff. Specifically, the night staff.”

“Okay, I can send something to them, too. But isn’t that a little premature? You haven’t found anyone yet.”

“You’ll have to send it this afternoon. I have someone in mind.”