"She stole it! She just… stole it!" Stacy said unbelievingly, still staring out the window.

"Wasn't that Mrs. Johanssen?" Daria asked.

"Sure looked like her to me," Jane affirmed. "This town ain't big enough for two of her."

Quinn turned to Daria. "You know her?"

"She almost died right in front of us, and then she ratted us out to Ms. Li because we wouldn't sell her all our chocolate bars. Remember that fundraiser for the coffeehouse?"

"Oh, is that what you two were getting chewed out about that day? You should have sold them to her. I would."

"That's what I said," agreed Jane. "See there, Miss don't-want-to-take-a-human-life? Your silly scruples have unleashed a heinous cat burglar on our fair city."

"You guys!" whined Stacy, "It's not funny! What's she gonna do when she sees the cat in there? She'll throw it in the trash!"

"Naah, she'll probably dip it in chocolate and eat it," chortled Jane. "You're right… it isn't funny. It's hilarious!" Daria, thinking of the moment when she'd get her first look at her plunder, tended to agree but said nothing.

"Jane!" Quinn glared at Jane, then turned to Stacy. "It's okay, Stacy, you tried. You did your best. I'm sure the kitty appreciates that."

Stacy looked back at Quinn. "You really think so?" Then her big puppy-dog eyes got even bigger. "Omigosh! Look!"

Quinn, Daria, and Jane looked in the direction that Stacy was surreptitiously pointing. Mrs. Johanssen was being escorted to a table by a waitress. She put a Cashman's bag down on a chair seat and headed toward the megabar, an unpleasant smirk on her face. Daria heard her wheezing, labored breathing as she approached, and caught the odor of perspiration as she passed. Looking up after she'd gone by, Daria noticed that she wasn't the only one looking. Several others glanced or frankly stared, and one of those was the manager. Daria couldn't help smiling as she saw his expression. I swear I can read his mind, she thought. He's thinking, "Oh, hell, there go the profits for today."

Stacy put a hand on Quinn's shoulder and whispered, "Should I run over there and grab it?"

Quinn looked horrified. "No!"

"But I've got to do something!"

Quinn looked toward Daria for help. Jane spoke up. "Stacy, think of your poor parents! Think how they'd feel if their daughter got herself hanged for cat rustling!"

Stacy and Quinn both glared at Jane, who grinned back. Daria leaned toward Stacy and murmured, "Stacy, no way do you want to be in possession of a dead cat inside a restaurant. You'd never be able to explain it."

Stacy looked to Quinn, who nodded. "But I can't just let her get away with it!" she whined.

Several sarcastic remarks sprang to Daria's tongue, and she set them aside with regret. "What you could do is go to the manager and tell him you saw that woman put the cat in that bag just before she came in here."

Stacy stared wide-eyed at Daria, then she turned to Quinn, then back to Daria. The other three girls looked back at her, waiting. She looked at the shopping bag, then at the manager, then at Quinn again, as if wrestling with her inner fears and uncertainties. As they sat there, Mrs. Johanssen returned from the food bar, her plate piled high with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, breaded shrimp, and more.

Daria ate a bite of her own food, casting glances out of the corner of her eye toward the table where the fat woman sat. The other girls were doing likewise. Mrs. Johanssen tucked a napkin into the neck of her dress and attacked her food with gusto. After she'd half emptied her plate, and had apparently taken the edge off her hunger, she paused and looked over at the Cashman's bag on the seat beside her. A glance at Stacy showed Daria that she was mesmerized by events at the other table like a sparrow by a serpent.

Mrs. Johanssen picked up the bag and set it on her lap. Daria was surprised that she had one. She peered inside, then thrust in a fat arm.