Show Me the Funny Money (A Val Fremden Humorous Mystery Book 3) by Margaret Lashley

Author:Margaret Lashley [Lashley, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zazzy Ideas, Inc.
Published: 2024-11-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

“What’s going on here?” Officer McNulty demanded, aiming his pistol at me. “Fremden? I got a report of someone screaming bloody murder in here!”

“Sorry. It was just me,” I said.

I surreptitiously shot Finkerman a keep quiet glare. Not that I needed to. Given the sketchy lawyer’s thin, milky-white arms and paralytic expression, he looked more like a mannequin than Lamar could ever hope to.

“Were you attacked?” McNulty asked. “Is there anyone else in here?”

“No. I ... I was just sick to my stomach. I lost something that cost a lot of money and I don’t know how I’m going to pay it back.”

“Not with more of that funny money, that’s for sure.” McNulty’s expression switched from high alert to high suspicion. He studied me as he tucked his gun back into his side holster. “How much money are you talking about?”

I winced. “Ten grand.”

McNulty whistled. “Well, that’s certainly an incentivizing motive.”

“Motive?” I asked. “Motive for what?”

“For you to turn to counterfeiting, Fremden. Those phony twenties we confiscated had the guys down at the station rolling on the floor.” He shook his head. “Who knew Andrew had such a big Johnson.”

Across the room, Finkerman snickered. McNulty froze for a split second, then reached for his gun again.

“I thought you said you were alone,” he whispered, stepping into the space between me and the direction from which the laughing sound had come.

“We are!” I blurted. “Believe me. That was no human being.”

“Then what was it?”

“Uh ... just some stupid doll. Giggling Gertie. She’s broken, so you never know when she’s going to laugh.” I glared over at Finkerman. “I should probably just cut its head off if it happens again.”

McNulty frowned and holstered his weapon. “That’s a rather violent solution for such a small problem. Are acts of violence something you’re prone to?”

“What?” I gasped. “No. I was just joking!”

“Uh-huh. What about your Beanie Baby Blowout sign? Is that a joke, too?” McNulty’s dark eyes locked in on mine. “It doesn’t have anything to do with your forgery case, does it?”

I smiled weakly. “No, sir. You see, I’m ... trying to make a good impression on my boss while she’s away. You know, by drumming up sales. I’ve been minding my own business, just working here and going straight home. I swear.”

“Really.” McNulty said in a tone that conveyed he wasn’t convinced. “Then tell me, Fremden. What were you doing downtown the night before last?”

I swallowed a knot in my throat. “What? Are you tailing me?”

McNulty pursed his lips. “I spotted your car Wednesday night while I was off duty. Should I be tailing you?”

“No, sir. I ... I went to a writing class at Tankerson Community College. It just ... slipped my mind. I guess I’m just a bit scatterbrained, you know, with everything that’s going on.”

McNulty’s hard expression softened slightly around the edges. “Understandable, I suppose, given the circumstances.” He frowned. “I still haven’t been able to corroborate your story with your boss, Geraldine Jiggles. The woman won’t answer her phone.

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