a choice. If the dognappings are related to this, I can’t have my clients in danger.”
At some point, with any luck, she’d find it all humorous. Lately, though, luck had been running last in the stretch. She grunted and dropped into one of the dining room chairs.
“You okay?” Frankie asked.
Not so much . No . “I don’t think so.”
Stepping behind her, he set his hands on her shoulders and drove his fingers into aching muscles. “Your shoulders are tight.”
“Can you blame me? I lost my job, moved back to the nuthouse and now I’m into diamond trafficking. I can handle the job loss and the nuthouse. The stolen jewelry taxes me.”
Side note: check the penalties for unknowingly harboring stolen diamonds .
“First off,” Frankie said, “we don’t know anything is stolen.”
Despite the fact that his magic thumbs were plowing through the knots in her shoulders, Lucie shifted toward him. “You think this thing is a family heirloom that accidentally wound up in a box in the attic?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
Lucie bolted from the chair and headed for the stairs. “I didn’t check the attic for more stones. I have another box up there.”
“What about your mom?”
“She’s in her room. I’ll tell her I’m getting supplies down. She won’t think anything of it.”
Ten minutes later, they dumped the box on the dining room table and were sifting through each of the plastic bags. Lucie wasn’t sure she’d recognize a real diamond, but at least now, she knew how to test anything suspicious.
She studied a large stone, dragged it against her trusty Notre Dame glass. Nothing. Thank you . “Frankie, I should be down at police headquarters telling them about the diamond. But if I do that, it’ll look like someone in my family—namely my father—is into something hinky. And what if, insane as it might be, my father is innocent? The cops will never believe him.”
Being a bright guy, Frankie held up his hands, obviously surrendering to the idea that, as much as the situation stunk, she was right.
“How about I talk to my father about this? He’ll find out who the diamond belongs to and kick someone’s ass for being stupid enough to hide it in your house.”
“No. I don’t want him involved. It’ll just make things worse.”
Nobody messed with a boss. Or his family. And if they did, they suffered. One way or another, they suffered. She didn’t want to live with that. Nope. Not gonna happen. They were on their own with this one.
And she had clients to think about. What a mess. “I can’t put the dogs in danger by walking them. I could be a target .”
Frankie scratched his knuckles along the side of his face. “Hang on. Either Joey or I will walk with you. If you get dogjacked again, we’ll nab the guy. I promise you, Luce, no other dogs will get boosted while you’re walking them.”
Chapter Five
The sound of Aretha Franklin belting R-E-S-P-E-C-T pierced the darkened quiet of Lucie’s bedroom. She shot to a sitting position and snatched her cell phone off the nightstand.
“Hello?” Her sleep clogged voice grumbled like a stalling tractor and she cleared her throat. “Hello?”
“Lucie, this is Elaine Bernard. They’re back.”
Huh? Who? Lucie jabbed two fingers into her eyes, then glanced at the clock. Six-oh-five.
They’re back . Please. Let her be referring to the dogs. “Josie and Fannie?”
“Yes. Lenny called a few minutes ago and said he had them in the lobby. Apparently, they were scratching the door to get in.”
The thumping behind Lucie’s eyes gave way to waterworks. She swiped at the tears. What a wuss. Her father would be disappointed.
“They look fine,” Mrs. Bernard said, “but we’re taking them to the vet to be sure.”
The poor things had been through an ordeal. They could have internal injuries. Or be traumatized. Dogs could suffer horrible post-traumatic stress. She had to make it up to them.
At some point, with any luck, she’d find it all humorous. Lately, though, luck had been running last in the stretch. She grunted and dropped into one of the dining room chairs.
“You okay?” Frankie asked.
Not so much . No . “I don’t think so.”
Stepping behind her, he set his hands on her shoulders and drove his fingers into aching muscles. “Your shoulders are tight.”
“Can you blame me? I lost my job, moved back to the nuthouse and now I’m into diamond trafficking. I can handle the job loss and the nuthouse. The stolen jewelry taxes me.”
Side note: check the penalties for unknowingly harboring stolen diamonds .
“First off,” Frankie said, “we don’t know anything is stolen.”
Despite the fact that his magic thumbs were plowing through the knots in her shoulders, Lucie shifted toward him. “You think this thing is a family heirloom that accidentally wound up in a box in the attic?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
Lucie bolted from the chair and headed for the stairs. “I didn’t check the attic for more stones. I have another box up there.”
“What about your mom?”
“She’s in her room. I’ll tell her I’m getting supplies down. She won’t think anything of it.”
Ten minutes later, they dumped the box on the dining room table and were sifting through each of the plastic bags. Lucie wasn’t sure she’d recognize a real diamond, but at least now, she knew how to test anything suspicious.
She studied a large stone, dragged it against her trusty Notre Dame glass. Nothing. Thank you . “Frankie, I should be down at police headquarters telling them about the diamond. But if I do that, it’ll look like someone in my family—namely my father—is into something hinky. And what if, insane as it might be, my father is innocent? The cops will never believe him.”
Being a bright guy, Frankie held up his hands, obviously surrendering to the idea that, as much as the situation stunk, she was right.
“How about I talk to my father about this? He’ll find out who the diamond belongs to and kick someone’s ass for being stupid enough to hide it in your house.”
“No. I don’t want him involved. It’ll just make things worse.”
Nobody messed with a boss. Or his family. And if they did, they suffered. One way or another, they suffered. She didn’t want to live with that. Nope. Not gonna happen. They were on their own with this one.
And she had clients to think about. What a mess. “I can’t put the dogs in danger by walking them. I could be a target .”
Frankie scratched his knuckles along the side of his face. “Hang on. Either Joey or I will walk with you. If you get dogjacked again, we’ll nab the guy. I promise you, Luce, no other dogs will get boosted while you’re walking them.”
Chapter Five
The sound of Aretha Franklin belting R-E-S-P-E-C-T pierced the darkened quiet of Lucie’s bedroom. She shot to a sitting position and snatched her cell phone off the nightstand.
“Hello?” Her sleep clogged voice grumbled like a stalling tractor and she cleared her throat. “Hello?”
“Lucie, this is Elaine Bernard. They’re back.”
Huh? Who? Lucie jabbed two fingers into her eyes, then glanced at the clock. Six-oh-five.
They’re back . Please. Let her be referring to the dogs. “Josie and Fannie?”
“Yes. Lenny called a few minutes ago and said he had them in the lobby. Apparently, they were scratching the door to get in.”
The thumping behind Lucie’s eyes gave way to waterworks. She swiped at the tears. What a wuss. Her father would be disappointed.
“They look fine,” Mrs. Bernard said, “but we’re taking them to the vet to be sure.”
The poor things had been through an ordeal. They could have internal injuries. Or be traumatized. Dogs could suffer horrible post-traumatic stress. She had to make it up to them.
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