The Case of the Angry First Wife by Melodie Campbell

Author:Melodie Campbell
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459818095
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2017-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

He didn’t call the police. Ritz and I remained unmolested by the boys in blue.

I thought a lot about that over my coffee the next morning. Was Mac a supporter of vigilante justice, like I was? Did he approve of our trying to help people, even if it meant stepping outside the law a wee bit to do so?

Or was his motive for keeping his mouth shut merely financial? If Mac was Stonehouse Security, then he had a lucrative client in my extended family. Probably it would be in his financial interest not to report us.

Whatever the reason, I was relieved. But still wary.

I spent the morning doing cleanup from the gala. It had been a great success but a lot of work. You wouldn’t believe how much has to be done after a big event. Decorations have to be stored. Bills have to be paid. Checks and cash from the silent auction have to be tallied. I worked hard with Alison in the office all day while our animal-care workers took care of the kennels.

The following day Ritz and I had an appointment. Our client, Angela Morton, was arriving to pick up the necklace.

We converged at Kitty’s place shortly after noon. Ritz pulled her Ducati up behind my red Mustang. A late-model Merc sat in the driveway as well. It had to be the client’s.

I got out of the car and turned to Ritz, who was taking off her helmet. “Nice wheels for a poor divorcee,” I said.

Ritz shrugged. “Probably got it in the settlement.” She strapped her helmet to the bike and took out her smartphone. I could see she was setting up to take a photo of the house. Ritz was camera-mad.

“Don’t. Kitty doesn’t like anyone taking photos of her place,” I warned. “She stays under the radar, where possible.”

Ritz grunted.

I walked swiftly up the flagstone walkway to the front door.

Kitty and Angela Morton were seated in the living room at the back of the house. It was the first time I had met her. She was a petite blond, not unlike the current wife but at least a decade older. Guess the husband had a type.

We made quick introductions, using just our first names. I let Ritz hand Angela the necklace. No sense getting my prints on it too.

I nodded to Kitty, who gave me a thumbs-up. She seemed particularly pleased with this successful outcome. Her mouth was set in a determined smile.

Angela stared down at the necklace in her hand. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, eyes shining. Diamonds dripped through her fingers. They graduated from small at the clasp to seriously impressive in the middle.

This was my favorite part. When we meet with our client to tell them the job is done… well, it makes my heart swell. We’ve done something good for someone.

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