Telling Lies Read Online Free

along the selling floor to unobtrusively yet pointedly control the flow of traffic. As charming as they were architecturally, their design made observation difficult. Mirrored back shelves were shimmering showcases for the store’s wares and concealed the registers, which were tucked behind in recessed alcoves. Helen was frustrated. Anything can be happening back there, and I can’t see it , she mused. She knew she couldn’t be too obvious about wandering over and checking out anyone else’s sales without arousing suspicion.
     
    As Helen moved around the counters and greeted customers, she remembered how amazed she’d been at some of the schemes the store’s Loss Prevention Team had briefed her on. Besides out-and-out stealing from the register, crooked employees could be remarkably inventive in devising ways to scam the store. One disgruntled employee stole the credit card number of any customer who was rude to her, then used it to purchase gift cards for her friends. Some even had outside accomplices to help pull off their devious schemes. In one scenario, an accomplice would pose as a customer and pay with cash to purchase a bottle of the most expensive perfume at the counter. Her partner, the salesperson, would slip an extra bottle into her package. The next day the “customer” would return both bottles, with a state-of the-art forged receipt she’d created on her home computer, and ask for a refund. Not only would she get back her money for the original bottle, but also for the second, stolen one. Since it was the store’s policy to process any refund accompanied by a receipt, the “customer” and dishonest employee walked away with a nice profit—often upward of two hundred dollars—for a few minute’s work. And that was only one way the store was losing money.
     
    Helen shook her head and snuck a peek at her watch. Ten more minutes to go until her break. Sighing inwardly, she let her mind jump ahead to the fifteen minutes when she’d be off her feet, sitting in the blissfully fragrance-free employee lounge relaxing over a cup of coffee.
     
    Spraying customers liberally, although sneeze inducing, helped her use up the fragrance she was demonstrating and provided a legitimate reason for moving behind the counter to fetch another sample bottle of Adoreé. While she was rummaging around in the drawers that held the fragrance, she was able to take a quick glance at the cash register. One of the people whose too friendly behavior had aroused her suspicion, Antonio Felippe, was ringing up a sale. Tall, slender, and dressed completely in black Armani, he appeared to be the quintessential salesperson. But the furtive looks he’d been giving Helen made the back of her neck tingle—a sign she couldn’t ignore. His customer looked familiar to her as well. Helen was sure she’d seen the woman at least twice over the last few days, shopping when Antonio was working. The woman had changed her appearance slightly each time. Today she was wearing an oversize pair of designer sunglasses and had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Her roomy hobo shoulder bag, however, was the same one she’d used on the other two occasions—a dead giveaway as far as Helen, who was no slouch in the disguise department, was concerned.
     
    Helen dawdled behind the counter, opening and closing drawers, pretending to be unable to find what she needed. Antonio glanced her way, acknowledged her presence with a phony smile, and continued ringing up his sale. Helen tried to see what items were included in the purchase but had a hard time viewing the register’s screen from where she was standing. Edging closer to Antonio, she tried to glimpse the sales receipt over his shoulder as he was placing the woman’s purchases in a shopping bag. If she could determine that the receipt and the items didn’t match, she had him.
     
    Desperate to find a way to get close enough, she called to him sweetly, waving the bottle of Adoreé in front