Cate looked around the room. It looked like it had been furnished in pieces Kitty no longer wanted in her big house. A queen-sized bed with a cream-colored quilted spread. A tufted headboard in peach tones. An Oriental area rug at the foot of the bed. An ornate mahogany chest of drawers. Audubon prints in slim walnut frames. She’d noticed as they walked through that there were two bedrooms on this floor. She suspected this wasn’t the bedroom Marty used when he stayed in the house. There were no personal touches in the room. No photos, no books or magazine, no mints or keys or spare change. And she couldn’t see Marty enduring the peach headboard. It was nice, but it very much wasn’t Marty.
“I suppose we’re waiting for Kitty,” Cate said.
“I suppose we are. Saturday night. She probably got called out of some high-society dinner party. She won’t be pleased about that.” Marty smiled. “That’s a little heartwarming.”
They could hear the very faint sound of a door opening and closing downstairs. Muffled conversation. Footsteps on the stairs.
The bedroom door opened and one of the men looked in. “She wants to talk to you downstairs.”
Cate and Marty filed down the stairs and met Kitty in the center hall. She was dressed in a white Armani suit with black trim, and she had a classic Chanel bag hung on her shoulder.
“This is fun,” Kitty said to Marty. “I’ll get to throw you off a bridge for a second time. I think this time we’ll attach something to your ankle . . . like a Volkswagen.”
“Why do you want to throw me off a bridge?” Marty asked. “What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t trust you.”
“If I go to the police, they’ll lock me up and throw the key away.”
“Yes, but you could go to my husband.”
“Oh,” Marty said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Now,” Kitty said, turning to Cate. “I need the dog. How are we going to go about solving this dilemma?”
“I could call and ask my friend to bring the dog to the condo,” Cate said. “Or I could go get Beast and bring him myself.”
“I like option number one,” Kitty said. “Call your friend.”
“I don’t have my phone,” Cate said. “Your man took my purse.”
The purse appeared, and Cate rummaged around in it, looking for her phone, her hands still cuffed. She found the phone and punched Kellen’s number in, and had the phone to her ear when both the front and back doors crashed open.
Kellen was at the front door, gun drawn, and Julie and Pugg burst through the kitchen. Julie had a gun in her hand, and Pugg was wielding a meat mallet that Cate assumed he had picked up en route. One of Kitty’s men pulled a gun, and Kitty ripped it out of his hands and grabbed Cate.
“Freeze,” Kitty said. “Everyone back off because I’ll kill her, I swear I will. I’ve worked too hard to let it all slip away from me now. I started out licking envelopes for the hospital silent auction, and now I’m just inches from being elected to the board. The board! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get elected to the board? Do you know what that means? It means I chair the Twinkle Ball. I get to do the seating chart. Kitty Bergman from Quincy gets to do the seating chart for the Twinkle Ball! Two years ago that bitch Patty Fuch did the chart and gave me balcony seating. I was wearing Herrara, and no one saw me. No one saw the Harry Winston necklace. No one saw the Valentino shoes. Now I’m going to be elected to the board, and I’m going to kick that cow to the curb. Patty Fuch will get the table next to the frigging men’s room.”
“Kitty,” Marty said, “can you spell nutsy cuckoo?”
“Shut up, you traitor. You’re just a common thief in ladies panties.”
“Actually I don’t wear ladies panties. I wear briefs that are designed to minimize the male contour.”
“As soon as I get my hands on that dog and the jewelry you stole from me, I’m going to minimize your entire contour,” Kitty said.
Beast had been standing behind Kellen. He gave a low growl, pushed Kellen aside, and lunged at Kitty. He clamped his teeth onto Kitty’s purse strap, ripping it off her shoulder and sending the gun flying.
“That’s a Chanel bag!” Kitty cried. “For heaven’s sake, someone do something. He’s slobbering on vintage Chanel.”
Beast shook the bag until he was convinced it was dead and then he turned on Kitty. He gave a loud woof, put his two front paws on her chest, knocked her over, and sat on her.
“Help,” Kitty said.
“What a good ol’ dawg,” Julie said. “My neighbor Jimmy Spence had a guard dog once, and anyone talked cross-eyed to Jimmy that dog would rip you to shreds and then he’d knock you down and hump on you. It wasn’t pretty.”
“See, Kitty. Things could be worse. Beast could be a humper,” Cate said.
Kellen looked at Cate. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Are you?”
“No. I’m a mess. I’ve never been so scared in my life. Pugg called and said you were kidnapped and my heart stopped.”
“I would have rescued you myself,” Pugg said to Cate, “but I was temporarily unconscious.”
“Poor little Pugg,” Julie said. “Soon’s we get this cleaned up I’m gonna take you home and make you real comfy. You’re my hero.”
Pugg looked like he would begin purring at any moment.
Kellen got the handcuff key from one of the men and took the cuffs off Cate.
“The numbers from Beast’s microchip open a safe in the condo,” Cate said to Kellen.
“I searched everywhere,” Kellen said. “I didn’t see a safe.”
“It’s there,” Marty said. “You just didn’t recognize it.”
“Is there a closet in this house that can be locked from the outside and not opened from the inside?” Kellen asked Marty.
“There’s an owner’s closet upstairs.”
Kellen checked the two men and Kitty for extra keys and cell phones, cuffed the two men together with Cate’s shackles, marched them upstairs with Kitty, and locked the three of them in the closet.
“They’ll be okay here for a while, at least until I decide how to handle this,” Kellen said. “Let’s go back to the condo and see what we find there.”
Everyone trooped out to Kellen’s car and stood looking at the Mustang.
“We’re not all going to fit,” Kellen said.
“You go on ahead,” Julie said. “Pugg and I will find our way home.”
Chapter
EIGHTEEN
Marty, Kellen, and Beast stepped out of the elevator with Cate, hurried down the hall, and waited while Cate punched in the code to unlock Marty’s front door.
“Okay,” Kellen said to Marty when they were all inside. “Where is the safe?”
“I don’t think I should tell you,” Marty said. “I appreciate the rescue, but I’d prefer not to reveal the safe.” He gave Kellen his best Doris Day smile. “However, I’d be more than happy to reward you when I feel it’s time to move some of the merchandise.”
“Here’s more bad news,” Kellen said to Marty. “I’m a private recovery agent, and you have property belonging to at least one of my clients. You can open the safe now, or you can open the safe when the police get here.”
“But I’m Robin Hood,” Marty said. “We were using the money for charitable purposes.” He flicked his eyes to the Warhol on the wall. “Almost all of it.”
“And what about the dead agent?” Kellen asked.
“It was an accident. He was in a panic, and he slipped and fell down the stairs, I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Cate said.
“Well, actually she isn’t dead,” Marty said. “I was swearing pre-mortem.”
Kellen didn’t show much, and Cate suspected he wasn’t buying it. For that matter, she wasn’t sure she bought the whole package, but she did feel a tug of compassion for Marty. He looked pathetic in his raggedy clothes. He had a gash on his forehead, and a large bruise and abrasion on his right cheekbone. Hi
s right eye was partially swollen. And he truly did need a manicure.
“Are you going to turn me over to the police?” Marty asked.
“I haven’t decided,” Kellen said. “I’m not in the fugitive apprehension business, but I have an obligation as a citizen to come forward when I have information about a crime.”
“Suppose I open the safe and give you all the jewelry and promise not to ever steal again.”
“Evian really does need him at the bar,” Cate said. “And even though Kitty’s motives weren’t great, she still did a lot of good for the community.”
Kellen looked at Cate. “Aside from the fact that the agent accident could be pure baloney, if we don’t inform the police about Marty we could become accomplices to multiple crimes.”
“I just have a hard time thinking about Marty sitting in jail. And it seems a shame that he can’t go on entertaining people.”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Kellen said to Marty. “I’m going to give you a twenty-four-hour head start. You can leave the country, or you can go to the police yourself and confess. If you go to the police with a decent lawyer, you can probably plea bargain and rat out Kitty Bergman, and get a very reduced sentence.”
“I’ll take it,” Marty said.
“Now show us the safe.”
“You’re going to love this. It’s in the utility room.”
Marty led the way, and Kellen and Cate and Beast followed.
“I was worried about Kitty,” Marty said. “And I knew she’d hired those two goons who would do anything. And I mean anything. So I had this safe installed just in case things got nasty, and the goons got nosey. It opens with a fifteen-digit code, and I have no head for numbers. I can barely remember my phone number. I didn’t want to write the code down because I was afraid they’d find the paper. So I had it injected into the dog when I took him for a walk before I bought him. I figured even if someone wanded him they’d just think it was an ID number. What I didn’t count on was Kitty’s ability to inflict pain and my inability to tolerate it. The first time they hit me I blurted it all out.”
The utility room was nothing more than a closet off the hall. It contained a water heater, a furnace, and two fuse boxes. No safe that Cate could see.
“Have you ever had to flip a circuit breaker?” Marty asked Cate.
“No.”
Marty opened the doors to the two fuse boxes. Both looked identical. The circuit breakers on the top box were labeled. Bath, kitchen, bedrooms, and living areas. The circuit breakers on the bottom box weren’t labeled. Marty flipped one of the switches quickly three times and the panel popped open to reveal a wall safe behind it.
“Nice,” Kellen said. “I’d actually wondered about the second fuse box.”
Kellen punched in the chip code and the safe clicked open.
“I’ve saved all my favorite pieces,” Marty said on a sigh, taking a blue velvet box from the safe. Truth is, some of these I’m not sure I ever could have voluntarily parted with.”
Kellen opened the box and unwrapped the jewelry. Four necklaces, two bracelets, a broach, two rings, and two pairs of earrings, all in their own blue velvet wraps.
“The necklace I’ve been looking for is here,” Kellen said. “And there are four more pieces that are on my list. If you decide to turn yourself in to the police, I’ll corroborate your story and testify against Kitty Bergman, but you have to agree to give Beast to Cate.”
“Of course Cate can have Beast if she wants him. And she’s welcome to stay in my condo for as long as she wants if I’m . . .sent away. I’ll go to the police first thing in the morning,” Marty said. “And in the meantime I’m going to lock my front door and not let anyone in . . . just in case Kitty has escaped from the closet.”
Cate and Kellen and Beast took the elevator to the lobby.
“What should we do about Kitty?” Cate asked. “We can’t just leave her in the closet all night.”
“I’m sure she’s out of the closet by now. She was locked in there with two big guys, and the door wasn’t that strong.”
Julie, Pugg and Sharon were in the lobby.
“We ran into Sharon coming home from the movies,” Julie said. “And we’re all here waiting to see what happened.”
“Everything’s fine,” Cate said. “Kellen found the necklace he’s been looking for, and Marty is upstairs, safe in his condo. He has some things to sort through and some decisions to make.”
Sharon gave her head a small shake. “You never know about people. Who would have thought Marty and Kitty would be in business together, stealing jewelry?”
“It’s like he’s the Pink Panther,” Julie said. “I loved those movies. I think my next book will be about Marty.”
A man pushed through the front door into the lobby and went to the bank of mailboxes. He took a key out of his pocket and opened the box labeled Mr. M.
All eyes were glued to the man.
“Omigosh, are you Mr. M.?” Julie asked.
“Yes. Michael Menzenbergenfelt. My name wouldn’t fit in the space.”
He was in his midforties. Dark hair, receding hairline, average build gone a little soft around the middle, average height, pleasant smile. And Cate knew he had nice ankles and was slightly flatfooted.
“We’ve been wonderin’ about you,” Julie said. “You’re the man of mystery around here. No one ever sees you.”
“I’m a writer. Historical fiction. Mostly set around Bonaparte. Between trying to make a deadline and traveling on book tour I’ve been keeping odd hours. I haven’t really been here that much.”
“Julie’s a writer, too,” Cate said.
“Are you published?” Michael asked.
“No. But maybe someday. I’m just starting out.”
“Her book is wonderful,” Cate said.
“Let me know if I can help,” Michael said. “I assume we’re neighbors.”
“Yep, we’re 4A, 3A, and 3B,” Julie said.
Sharon stepped up. “Sharon Vizzallini in 3B.” She gave him her card. “In case you need real estate.”
“Sorry,” he said, “I don’t need real estate.” He looked down at her left hand. No ring. “But maybe dinner sometime?”
“Sure,” Sharon said. “Tomorrow at six?”
“I’ve read your books,” Kellen said to Mr. M. “I’m a fan. I think the Bonaparte years were fascinating.”
Cate and Kellen stood staring at Kellen’s bed. Beast was on it, sprawled across the entire width. Beast opened an eye and looked at them, and the eye slid closed.
“You’re going to have to move him,” Cate said.
“Me? He’s your dog.”
“Yes, but he’s big, and he gets cranky when you wake him.”
“Are you telling me you’re still afraid of your own dog?”
Cate pressed her lips together. “Certainly not. I just hate to see him upset. Okay, maybe sometimes he worries me a little when he does the growly thing.”
“He’s a pussycat,” Kellen said.
“Okay, so you move the pussycat.”
Kellen took hold of Beast’s two front feet and pulled. Beast growled low in his throat but refused to move or open his eyes.
“This is ridiculous,” Kellen said. “This is like moving a bag of wet cement.”
“Maybe there’s a bagel left downstairs. We could lure him off with food.”
“I ate the last bagel,” Kellen said. “And this is a challenge. This is man against beast. I can do this.” He grabbed Beast and wrestled him around until they were both lying lengthways on the bed. “Okay,” Kellen said. “Now I just have to get him to move to his own side.”
Cate clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
“I saw that,” Kellen said. “If you laugh at me you’ll pay.”
“Oh, yeah? What would the price be?”
Kellen had a front foot and a back foot and was inching Beast along. “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something horrible. Like, you’ll hav
e to eat my cooking or meet my sisters.”
“I could handle that,” Cate said.
“You think you’re pretty tough right now, but you’ve never tasted my spaghetti sauce,” Kellen said, giving one last grunt and finally moving Beast to the edge.
Kellen kicked his shoes off and sat on the bed. He patted the spot next to him. “Come here, princess. Now I get to wrestle with you.”
“Are you going to drag me across the bed by my feet?”
“No. I’m going to whisper erotic suggestions in your ear, and then I’m going to demonstrate.”
Cate sat next to him. “You’ve had a full day, cowboy. Rescued me, solved a crime, tackled the beast. You might be too worn out to demonstrate.”
Kellen grinned and twirled one of Cate’s curls around his finger. “I think I can manage to dredge up some energy.”
Cate unlaced her sneakers. “What will happen to Kitty? Will the police find her? If they do, I doubt her husband will do much to help her out.”
“If she’s smart, Kitty and her henchmen are at Logan right now, loading everything they can beg, borrow, and steal onto a private plane to some unknown and exotic location.”
“About those erotic suggestions . . .” Cate said.
“What about them?”
Cate ran her hand under Kellen’s shirt, enjoying the feel of his warm skin, letting her fingertips memorize the muscle definition. “I’m ready to hear them,” she said. “All of them. And I want details.”
Cate opened her eyes to sun peeking through the curtains in Kellen’s bedroom. Kellen was gone, but Beast was at the bottom of the bed, Cate’s foot trapped under him. Both the foot and the dog were dead asleep. Cate eased her foot out from under the dog and massaged some blood back into it. A small price to pay for a loyal companion, she thought.