janet maple 05 - it doesnt pay to be bad

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by Marie Astor




  It Doesn’t Pay to be Bad

  (Book Five of the Janet Maple Series)

  By

  Marie Astor

  It Doesn’t Pay to be Bad

  Copyright ©Marie Astor 2016

  Excerpt from Thirsty for Payback Copyright 2014 Marie Astor

  Excerpt from Baiting Trouble Copyright 2014 Marie Astor

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Website: www.marieastor.com

  Facebook: Author Marie Astor

  Twitter: @marieastor

  Dedication:

  To my readers—you inspire me every day. Thank you for reading!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17—the Day of the Gala

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20—Three months later

  Chapter 21

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Thirsty for Payback

  Excerpt from Baiting Trouble

  Chapter 1

  Janet Maple woke up with a dreamy smile on her face. Her husband, Dennis Walker, was sleeping soundly next to her. Perhaps a bit too soundly—Janet stifled a giggle at the sound of loud snores escaping Dennis’s nostrils—a sound way too loud for a man who claimed he didn’t snore. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of grabbing her phone and videotaping her husband in the act, but then shook her head. Her job was starting to take a toll on her—working for a private intelligence agency for a living came with a certain territory. Quietly, Janet slipped out of bed and headed for the shower.

  This was the last day of their honeymoon and she figured she might as well let Dennis sleep—she’d dragged him on enough excursions and field trips to last a lifetime. As much as she loved exploring, even her calves were starting to ache from all the sightseeing they’d done over the past two weeks. Janet turned on the massage jets in the shower and stood still for several moments, letting the hot water relax the tightness in her muscles. Mmm, she inhaled the crisp verbena scent as she lathered up with the shower gel. The hotel they were staying at in Antibes, France was top notch and so was everything about it, including the bath products and the supersonic massage jet in the shower, not to mention the bed. Her lips curved in a sensual smile, as she thought about last night, which was one of the reasons Dennis was sleeping so soundly this morning.

  About fifteen minutes later, Janet emerged from the shower, feeling completely refreshed. As she expected, she found Dennis snoring right where she’d left him.

  “Rise and shine!” Janet cheered as she pulled back the curtains, letting the sunshine into the room.

  “What time is it?” Dennis groaned, squinting.

  “Time to get up!” She perched on the edge of the bed and tugged at Dennis’s arm. “This is our last day—you don’t want to waste it lolling around in bed.”

  “Who said anything about wasting?” he murmured, burrowing his face deeper into the pillows. “I happen to think that sleep is a very productive activity. I get my best ideas when I’m asleep.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know about that,” Janet countered.

  “And as for lolling around in bed, I don’t remember you complaining last night.” Before Janet could say another word, Dennis sprung up from the pillows and wrapped his arms around her waist, tumbling her onto the bed. “Or do you have any objections?” he asked.

  “None whatsoever,” she replied, half-laughing. “But it’s almost ten o’clock, and I thought you’d be well-rested,” she added coyly, parting her bathrobe slightly. “But if you’d rather sleep—”

  “Rest? Who said anything about rest? I don’t need rest from making love to my wife,” Dennis bristled. “Hold that thought. I’m just going to brush my teeth.”

  Janet leaned back against the pillows as she watched Dennis spring out of bed and race for the bathroom. He was back before she could count to ten.

  “Did you brush your teeth?” she teased him.

  “Yep. Taste my minty fresh breath,” he murmured. Sliding into the bed next to her, he drew her into a long kiss.

  “Mmm, nice and minty. Still, I’m not sure your dentist would approve—you’re supposed to brush for at least three minutes.”

  “Oh yeah?” He asked, kissing her neck. “Would you like me to stop so I could finish brushing my teeth?”

  She pulled him closer to her. “Don’t you dare. You can finish brushing after you’re done making love to your wife.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Sometime later, Dennis rolled over on the bed next to Janet. “So, do you still think lolling around in bed is a waste of time?” he asked, slightly panting.

  “Generally speaking, yes, but on this particular occasion, it was definitely worth it,” Janet needled him.

  “You’re impossible to please,” he groaned.

  “Then you’ve just done the impossible. Because I’m very pleased.” Janet grinned happily. “I’m starving. Do you want breakfast?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Janet picked up the phone. “I’m going to call room service and then I need another shower.”

  “I think I need another nap.”

  “I have a better idea,” Janet said after she’d placed the order with room service. “Come with me—that massage shower works miracles.”

  ***

  “So, what would you like to do today?” Dennis asked Janet as they were having a very late breakfast on their room terrace. The room had a view of the beach, and from this angle the Mediterranean Sea looked so blue it took your breath away.

  Janet took a sip of her coffee and stretched her arms lazily. “I thought we’d spend the day on the beach—”

  Dennis’s coffee cup clattered noisily against the saucer. “Did I hear that right—you actually want to spend an entire day on the beach? No sights planned for us to visit? No famous landmarks that must be seen?”

  Janet let him finish his sarcastic tirade. “Well, since it is our last day, I thought it’d be nice to take it easy today and enjoy the sea, but now that you mention it—” Janet struggled to keep a straight face as she watched Dennis’s expression grow panicky. “There is an art gallery in old town I wanted to visit—” she broke off, unable to keep up the charade. “Relax, I was only kidding. We saw just about everything I wanted to see.” Janet pointed at the worn travel guide she’d kept by her side during their entire honeymoon. “This was truly a trip of a lifetime.” And it truly was—they began their honeymoon with a week in Paris, followed by a week in the French Riviera. Who could possibly ask for a more romantic, not to mention scenic, route?

  Dennis nodded. “And my poor aching feet will never let me forget it.”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Stop being such a grouch. We haven’t
been married long enough for that.”

  “I was only kidding. If I’m walking with you by my side, I’m ready to walk anywhere.”

  Janet cocked an eyebrow. “You’re totally overdoing it.”

  “Sorry. I just thought I’d amp it up to make up for my grouchy old man routine.” Dennis flashed his charming smile.

  “Well, there is something you could do to make it up to me.”

  “I knew there was a catch!” Dennis exclaimed. “What is it? A museum? Another fortress you’d like to see, or some ancient lighthouse that can’t be missed?”

  “I kinda did want to go to the art gallery in old town. Pierre said it shouldn’t be missed.” Pierre was the hotel’s concierge who’d been extremely helpful to Janet. So far all the sights he’d suggested they visit had been worth it.

  “We have art galleries in New York, but in case you’ve forgotten, we don’t have the Mediterranean Sea. Today is our last day here, after all.”

  Janet checked her watch. “It’s already noon and the sun is blazing hot. We can take a car to old town, be back by two, and spend the rest of the day on the beach.”

  Dennis sighed. “Sounds like you got it all figured out. Remind me not to tip Pierre.”

  Janet finished her coffee and got up. “Come on, grouch, up on your feet.”

  Before Janet could blink, Dennis was up on his feet, his arms firmly around her waist.

  “Grouch? Is that any way for a newlywed wife to address her husband?” he asked, his lips hovering over hers.

  “Hmm, let me think. Only if the newlywed husband is being particularly—” She didn’t get to finish as Dennis’s lips covered hers with a long, passionate kiss.

  “How’s that for grouchy?” he asked, finally pulling away from her.

  “I take it back. You can complain all you want about sightseeing as long as you keep kissing me like that.”

  “I took a vow to cherish and hold you, and I take my vows very seriously.”

  “I certainly hope so.” Janet smiled coyly.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later Janet and Dennis were in the hotel lobby. Janet had called Pierre before they went downstairs and he already had a car waiting for them.

  “Madam, if I may, you look very stylish today,” Pierre complimented Janet on her outfit.

  “Thank you, Pierre. The boutique in old town that you recommended turned out to be fantastic. I love the local designers.” Janet twirled to showcase her navy striped dress, wide-brimmed straw hat, and red high-heeled sandals.

  “Magnificent!” Pierre exclaimed.

  “Thank you, Pierre,” Dennis said wryly. “My wife has been raving about your recommendations our entire stay.”

  Pierre lowered his eyes modestly. “I aim to please. There is so much to see in our town, but alas, there’s always too little time to see it all.”

  “Yes,” Dennis said pointedly. “Too little time indeed.”

  “My apologies, the car is waiting for you,” Pierre said, quickly catching Dennis’s drift. “I checked the gallery hours yesterday and they are open until six in the evening on weekdays. Enjoy your trip, Jeanette.” Pierre bowed, once he’d walked them to the car.

  Janet smiled at the French version of her name, by which Pierre had been addressing her during the entire stay. “Thank you, Pierre. Hopefully we’ll find something to bring back with us.”

  “Oh, I think you will. Joyau Gallery is truly a hidden gem of ours—off the beaten path, as the saying goes. Few tourists know about it, but I thought you would appreciate it.”

  “Thank you, Pierre. I’m really looking forward to it,” Janet said.

  “As am I,” Dennis added, as the driver opened the car door for them and stood by respectfully. “Now, honey, let’s get going before it’s too late or we won’t have any time left for the beach,” Dennis urged.

  “Bye, Pierre.” Janet got into the car and Dennis followed after her, while Pierre gave the driver the directions.

  The driver nodded and confirmed their destination. Then he started the car and stepped on the gas pedal. He knew his way around town, quickly zigzagging through the winding streets. In less than twenty minutes they were in a remote section of old town.

  “Joyau Gallery,” said the driver, indicating that they had arrived.

  “Thank you. I’ll get the door.” Dennis paid the driver. Then he got out of the car and opened the door on Janet’s side.

  Janet took Dennis’s hand and stepped out on the pavement, taking in her surroundings. This section of town had narrow, cobblestoned streets with pavements barely wide enough for two people. “Let’s see, Joyau Gallery should be somewhere around—” she muttered, skimming the faded shop signs.

  “Here—” Dennis pointed at a low-slung building right in front of them.

  “I don’t know how I missed it.”

  “That’s why you have me—to show you the way,” Dennis quipped.

  “And I’m very grateful for that,” she teased him. “Look at all the beautiful paintings they have in the window. I can’t wait to see what’s inside.”

  “I’m glad we came here.” Dennis nodded approvingly at the artwork in the display case. “It’ll be nice to bring home a memento of our honeymoon. Shall we?” Dennis pushed open the door. There was a chiming of doorbells as they walked inside, but the gallery appeared to be empty.

  “Hello?” Janet called out, but no one answered. “I wonder if there’s anyone here?” she asked, looking at Dennis. “Do you think they might be closed for lunch?”

  “The door was open. And I would think Pierre would’ve told us about it. The sales clerk is probably in the back. It’s not like this place is crawling with customers.”

  Janet rubbed her hands in anticipation, eyeing the paintings on the walls. “I’d love to find a nice seascape—I know just the place to hang it in our living room.”

  Dennis nodded. “Yes, dear, a nice seascape would be lovely. It’s just the finishing touch our apartment needs.”

  Janet caught the sarcasm in his voice, but decided to let this one go, remembering all the renovation work Dennis had done for their new apartment. Just before they tied the knot, Dennis and Janet had both given up their studio rentals and moved into a one bedroom apartment that became available for sale in Janet’s building. Between the renovations and the moving in, it had been a lot of work, with Dennis doing most of the handiwork and Janet picking out the furniture and the decorations. She’d loved every minute of it, and even though the project was now complete, deep down she didn’t want it to end. After all, she was a newlywed and she reveled in all the activities that came with it, including picking out little knick-knacks to make their love nest as cozy as possible.

  Janet looked up as an elderly sales clerk emerged from the back room.

  “Bonjour,” the sales clerk greeted them. He was short and very thin, looking almost like a dried up twig. He wore a tailored suit that fit his slight frame almost like a glove, complete with a bowtie and patent leather shoes.

  “Good afternoon.” Janet smiled. “Pardon me, but do you speak English?”

  “Of course.” The sales clerk bowed slightly. “But I am very sorry to say that we are closed.”

  “Closed?” Dennis frowned. “But our concierge told us you’d be open. Look, we’re leaving tomorrow. Couldn’t you make an exception?”

  The sales clerk shook his head apologetically. “I am very sorry, but we are taking inventory. Normally we’d be open, but not today.”

  “Are you sure you couldn’t make an exception?” Janet decided to give it a try. “You have such beautiful paintings here, and I was so hoping to buy a nice seascape for our apartment.”

  The clerk’s eyes widened, a worried look coming over his face. “Did you say a seascape, Madame?”

  “Yes.” Janet nodded. “A seascape for our new apartment.”

  “Mon dieu! Un Americain looking for a seascape for the new apartment! Red shoes, navy dress—” he muttered. “Forgive my impertinen
ce. This old head isn’t what it used to be.” He flung up his hands. “I believe I have exactly what you’re looking for. Let me make sure that we will not be interrupted.” He hurried to lock the front door. “I will be right back.”

  Dennis frowned. “Now that’s funny. Do you think he’s maybe mistaking us for someone else?” he whispered, as the old man disappeared in the back of the store.

  Janet shrugged. “The French are as peculiar as they’re charming. And even if he is, who cares? As long as the painting is in our price range, I want to see it.”

  “There’s no harm in that,” Dennis agreed.

  “Oh, relax. Pierre recommended this place.”

  “The all-knowing Pierre who can’t possibly be wrong,” Dennis quipped. “At least when it comes to the price, leave the negotiations to me.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Janet nudged Dennis as she saw the sales clerk hurrying back with a parcel under his arm.

  “My apologies for keeping you waiting,” the clerk panted. “Perhaps you’d like to step into the back room with me?” He pointed at the entrance in the back of the store.

  Dennis threw Janet an askance glance, but she ignored him. “Yes, thank you.” She nodded at the sales clerk. “You’re most kind,” she added and started to follow him into the back room.

  “My name is Maurice by the way. Where are my manners?” He slapped himself on the forehead, as Dennis and Janet walked behind him.

  “No worries.” Janet smiled. “My husband and I really appreciate your time.”

  “Yes, of course. Your husband.” Maurice looked up at Dennis deferentially. “Again, I apologize for my confusion earlier.” They were now in the back storage room and he pulled the curtain shut behind them.

  “Really, don’t worry about it,” Janet assured him.

  “Now, I think you’re going to be very pleased.” Maurice started to unwrap the parcel. “Here it is,” he said, unveiling the painting.

  “It’s lovely—exactly what we’re looking for.” The painting was simple but beautiful. The deep blue Mediterranean Sea and the quaint buildings clustered along the shoreline captured the spirit of Antibes perfectly. It was not an overly large painting—about twenty five inches diagonally, which was the perfect size. Not only was this painting beautiful, but so was the frame—intricately made and of excellent craftsmanship, it was almost as intriguing as the painting, if not more so. Janet could already picture the painting hanging over their living room couch—the perfect spot for the perfect memento of their honeymoon.

 

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