the brooch back. Of course, the shocked look on my face was equally priceless when I realized she also wore Grandma Tillie’s pin. My cunning cousin had had a duplicate made.
I needed to know if I had the real one, so I’d dropped my copy off at Glitter for an appraisal. Grant Trask, the owner, had called a few days ago to let me know I did, indeed, have the original.
Now it was time to pick it up and take it home, where it was safe from my sneaky cousin.
“Hey, Gloria. How’s business?”
She came from behind the counter and greeted me with a handshake, Missy with a loving head rub. Gloria’s apple cheeks were full of warmth. “Good, good. How about you?” her voice quavered.
I thought about the murder scene in front of Bow Wow. “My life is always interesting. I’m here to pick up the brooch. Is it ready?”
Gloria didn’t move. Not even a blink. I immediately had a bad feeling. “The brooch?” she squeaked.
“I brought it in a couple of weeks ago.”
She ran her hands down the sides of her sweater, smoothing invisible wrinkles. “Yes. Right after the cat art show at the Arman Gallery.”
I nodded. “I waited to pick it up until I had a hiding place. You know Caro, she can’t be trusted.”
Gloria nodded slowly as she inched her way back behind the counter. “That Caro. She’s a wily one. I thought Grant had called you.”
My breath caught. “You don’t have it, do you?”
Gloria clasped her hands together. “No. I’m sorry Mel. I’m so sorry. Caro came and picked it up yesterday.”
“But I dropped it off. Why would ya’ll hand it over to her?” I’d worked extremely hard to lose my Texas twang. But it was times like this when it would not be denied.
For those of you who know the story, I’d pulled a similar shifty tactic on Caro earlier this year. As much as I want to say that I was justified, we all know the only difference is that I came out the winner.
I hated losing.
If Grandma Tillie were alive, she’d look me in the eye and tell me not get all “het up” about it. But she wasn’t alive. And I was more than “het up.” I was fixin’ to track down my cousin and yank my brooch out of her iron fist.
“I’m sorry,” Gloria whispered. “Zane didn’t realize.”
Zane, the owner’s nephew, was the same young man I had sweet-talked into giving me the brooch.
Hells bells. Karma stinks.
Chapter Six
MALONE AND HIS crew were still gathering evidence when Missy and I returned to Bow Wow. Salinas noticed us right away and explained they needed an additional thirty minutes. I wondered if the police were questioning Tova. She didn’t seem the type to hold up well under police scrutiny.
Wanting to lick my wounds without an audience, Missy and I meandered into Paw Prints. Darby was setting up for a photo shoot when we arrived.
I unleashed Missy, who trotted over to the sheepskin rug and joined Fluffy. They greeted each other as all dogs do. I was grateful to be a human, able to just fist-bump anyone I hadn’t seen in an hour.
“We’re back. Are you free to grab some lunch?” I called out.
“Sure, let me finish up here. What do you have in mind?”
“No rush. How about a portabella burger?” I dropped with dramatic flair onto the Victorian couch and watched Darby move a wooden bench, searching for the perfect angle.
“When do you shoot Caro?” I’d like to shoot my cousin about now.
“Next week. Why?” Darby asked.
“She’s got the brooch.”
Darby stopped fiddling with the fall backdrop and turned in my direction. “But how? It was at the jewelry shop. You just got it back.”
“Nope.” I propped my feet up on the scuffed coffee table and stared at my boots. “She beat me there. Grant’s nephew returned it to the wrong cousin. Caro stole it right out from under my nose. Again.”
Only difference? This time Caro hadn’t used her new sticky-finger friend with three names. I wasn’t sure about that little Tinkerbell girl, April Mae June. She
I needed to know if I had the real one, so I’d dropped my copy off at Glitter for an appraisal. Grant Trask, the owner, had called a few days ago to let me know I did, indeed, have the original.
Now it was time to pick it up and take it home, where it was safe from my sneaky cousin.
“Hey, Gloria. How’s business?”
She came from behind the counter and greeted me with a handshake, Missy with a loving head rub. Gloria’s apple cheeks were full of warmth. “Good, good. How about you?” her voice quavered.
I thought about the murder scene in front of Bow Wow. “My life is always interesting. I’m here to pick up the brooch. Is it ready?”
Gloria didn’t move. Not even a blink. I immediately had a bad feeling. “The brooch?” she squeaked.
“I brought it in a couple of weeks ago.”
She ran her hands down the sides of her sweater, smoothing invisible wrinkles. “Yes. Right after the cat art show at the Arman Gallery.”
I nodded. “I waited to pick it up until I had a hiding place. You know Caro, she can’t be trusted.”
Gloria nodded slowly as she inched her way back behind the counter. “That Caro. She’s a wily one. I thought Grant had called you.”
My breath caught. “You don’t have it, do you?”
Gloria clasped her hands together. “No. I’m sorry Mel. I’m so sorry. Caro came and picked it up yesterday.”
“But I dropped it off. Why would ya’ll hand it over to her?” I’d worked extremely hard to lose my Texas twang. But it was times like this when it would not be denied.
For those of you who know the story, I’d pulled a similar shifty tactic on Caro earlier this year. As much as I want to say that I was justified, we all know the only difference is that I came out the winner.
I hated losing.
If Grandma Tillie were alive, she’d look me in the eye and tell me not get all “het up” about it. But she wasn’t alive. And I was more than “het up.” I was fixin’ to track down my cousin and yank my brooch out of her iron fist.
“I’m sorry,” Gloria whispered. “Zane didn’t realize.”
Zane, the owner’s nephew, was the same young man I had sweet-talked into giving me the brooch.
Hells bells. Karma stinks.
Chapter Six
MALONE AND HIS crew were still gathering evidence when Missy and I returned to Bow Wow. Salinas noticed us right away and explained they needed an additional thirty minutes. I wondered if the police were questioning Tova. She didn’t seem the type to hold up well under police scrutiny.
Wanting to lick my wounds without an audience, Missy and I meandered into Paw Prints. Darby was setting up for a photo shoot when we arrived.
I unleashed Missy, who trotted over to the sheepskin rug and joined Fluffy. They greeted each other as all dogs do. I was grateful to be a human, able to just fist-bump anyone I hadn’t seen in an hour.
“We’re back. Are you free to grab some lunch?” I called out.
“Sure, let me finish up here. What do you have in mind?”
“No rush. How about a portabella burger?” I dropped with dramatic flair onto the Victorian couch and watched Darby move a wooden bench, searching for the perfect angle.
“When do you shoot Caro?” I’d like to shoot my cousin about now.
“Next week. Why?” Darby asked.
“She’s got the brooch.”
Darby stopped fiddling with the fall backdrop and turned in my direction. “But how? It was at the jewelry shop. You just got it back.”
“Nope.” I propped my feet up on the scuffed coffee table and stared at my boots. “She beat me there. Grant’s nephew returned it to the wrong cousin. Caro stole it right out from under my nose. Again.”
Only difference? This time Caro hadn’t used her new sticky-finger friend with three names. I wasn’t sure about that little Tinkerbell girl, April Mae June. She
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