can’t just—”
“Oh, hell,” she said, looking at the window. “I thought I told you to break the glass.” She sighed, put her hands on her hips, looking around the room. She grabbed a poker from the set of fireplace tools and smashed it into the glass. Nick jumped back. She calmly put the poker back and smiled up at him.
“So, where is it?”
Nick glanced at the window and back at her, not sure how to respond. Her smile widened and her eyes lit up.
“You threw it out the window?” She laughed, then stopped. “You do know it’s flightless, right?” She glanced over the edge of the window down into the yard below, then pulled her head back in and sighed. “Drugged it and threw it out the window. Sick bastard. I just wish I had been here to see it.”
A man’s voice called from another area of the house. “Vivian?”
“Argh!” she grunted. “Six vodka tonics, you’d think the man would sleep through a little breaking glass!”
She put her hands on Nick’s shoulders, nudging him toward the window as she prattled on at him. “If there are any remains, clean it up. It’s a valuable bird; no real bird thief would throw that thing out the window when he can get a quarter mil for it on the street.”
Nick’s gut dropped. A quarter mil? What the hell kind of bird was this, anyway?
“Oh, and tell Babs I’m a little strapped for cash right now, but I’ll give her the money in a couple of weeks.”
“What?” Nick asked. “Wait—”
“Vivian!” The man’s voice was getting closer.
“Just go!” Vivian said, practically pushing him over the window’s edge. Nick shook his head and started negotiating his way down the ladder. A moment later Vivian’s head poked out of the window above him.
“And don’t forget to take the ladder down.”
She disappeared again. Nick’s feet hit the ground, and he pulled the extension ladder away from the house and condensed it down to its original length. He glanced around, saw a small shed, and leaned the ladder against it, then headed down the alley.
At least tonight was weird enough to get my mind off Dana, he thought, then paused.
“Shit,” he grunted, irritated with himself. He might as well just pass her a note in study hall and get it over with. NM Loves DW 4-Ever, Even If She Yanks His Heart Out Of His Chest And Does A River Dance On It. Pathetic.
He’d reached the gate when something on the ground caught his eye. He turned on his flashlight, knelt, and picked up two pieces of paper crumpled together. One, a yellow sticky note, had bullet points on it.
Break in around 11:30-midnight.
Bird will be in cage. Unlocked.
Gate is open.
Ladder is by the shed.
Alarm is disabled.
A sticky note. Presumably left out where any old someone could find it.
Any old bald someone, maybe, he thought. He scoffed. He never understood how some people got so rich while being so unbelievably stupid. He uncrumpled the next piece of paper.
A receipt for an order of curly fries and two mugs of Guinness at Bleeker’s Pub, a place in the middle of a seedy neighborhood on the Lower East Side.
Nick stood up. By all accounts, everything seemed fine. Vivian got rid of her bird, St. Jude’s got its donation, and the thief got away with something. Still, it didn’t sit right with him. He tucked the papers into his pocket, just in case.
Then he made his way to the street and tried with minimal success to keep Dana Wiley out of his head as he started the long trek home.
***
Babs fired up the computer, its blue light giving her office a dull glow. It was two in the morning, but it wasn’t like she was going to sleep, anyway.
Dana needed her. For the first time since she could remember, her daughter actually needed her, and Babs would be damned if she was going to let Dana down. Again. She had to find a way to save that winery. Co-signing a loan didn’t seem like a good idea, considering the whole microscope-up-the-nether-regions thing. That sounded very
“Oh, hell,” she said, looking at the window. “I thought I told you to break the glass.” She sighed, put her hands on her hips, looking around the room. She grabbed a poker from the set of fireplace tools and smashed it into the glass. Nick jumped back. She calmly put the poker back and smiled up at him.
“So, where is it?”
Nick glanced at the window and back at her, not sure how to respond. Her smile widened and her eyes lit up.
“You threw it out the window?” She laughed, then stopped. “You do know it’s flightless, right?” She glanced over the edge of the window down into the yard below, then pulled her head back in and sighed. “Drugged it and threw it out the window. Sick bastard. I just wish I had been here to see it.”
A man’s voice called from another area of the house. “Vivian?”
“Argh!” she grunted. “Six vodka tonics, you’d think the man would sleep through a little breaking glass!”
She put her hands on Nick’s shoulders, nudging him toward the window as she prattled on at him. “If there are any remains, clean it up. It’s a valuable bird; no real bird thief would throw that thing out the window when he can get a quarter mil for it on the street.”
Nick’s gut dropped. A quarter mil? What the hell kind of bird was this, anyway?
“Oh, and tell Babs I’m a little strapped for cash right now, but I’ll give her the money in a couple of weeks.”
“What?” Nick asked. “Wait—”
“Vivian!” The man’s voice was getting closer.
“Just go!” Vivian said, practically pushing him over the window’s edge. Nick shook his head and started negotiating his way down the ladder. A moment later Vivian’s head poked out of the window above him.
“And don’t forget to take the ladder down.”
She disappeared again. Nick’s feet hit the ground, and he pulled the extension ladder away from the house and condensed it down to its original length. He glanced around, saw a small shed, and leaned the ladder against it, then headed down the alley.
At least tonight was weird enough to get my mind off Dana, he thought, then paused.
“Shit,” he grunted, irritated with himself. He might as well just pass her a note in study hall and get it over with. NM Loves DW 4-Ever, Even If She Yanks His Heart Out Of His Chest And Does A River Dance On It. Pathetic.
He’d reached the gate when something on the ground caught his eye. He turned on his flashlight, knelt, and picked up two pieces of paper crumpled together. One, a yellow sticky note, had bullet points on it.
Break in around 11:30-midnight.
Bird will be in cage. Unlocked.
Gate is open.
Ladder is by the shed.
Alarm is disabled.
A sticky note. Presumably left out where any old someone could find it.
Any old bald someone, maybe, he thought. He scoffed. He never understood how some people got so rich while being so unbelievably stupid. He uncrumpled the next piece of paper.
A receipt for an order of curly fries and two mugs of Guinness at Bleeker’s Pub, a place in the middle of a seedy neighborhood on the Lower East Side.
Nick stood up. By all accounts, everything seemed fine. Vivian got rid of her bird, St. Jude’s got its donation, and the thief got away with something. Still, it didn’t sit right with him. He tucked the papers into his pocket, just in case.
Then he made his way to the street and tried with minimal success to keep Dana Wiley out of his head as he started the long trek home.
***
Babs fired up the computer, its blue light giving her office a dull glow. It was two in the morning, but it wasn’t like she was going to sleep, anyway.
Dana needed her. For the first time since she could remember, her daughter actually needed her, and Babs would be damned if she was going to let Dana down. Again. She had to find a way to save that winery. Co-signing a loan didn’t seem like a good idea, considering the whole microscope-up-the-nether-regions thing. That sounded very
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