Zoe stood there smiling. “But it’s on proud display, sweetcheeks. Good thing you wore sexy undies. And they match your garter, too. Hot stuff, girlie.”
Amy straightened and pulled away from Peter, but quickly swayed into him. He pulled her dress down and smoothed the skirt. “So,” he said awkwardly, sticking his hand out to Zoe, “we still haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Peter. I know you’re Amy’s sister, but I don’t know your name.”
Zoe glared at Amy. “Why won’t you tell him my name? Are you embarrassed of me?”
Amy lifted her chin. “Yes. You’re making me wear all these stupid penises.”
“You look cute.”
“Peter said I look ridiculous.”
Zoe looked him up and down. “And yet, he still has his hands all over you.”
“I do not,” Peter said. “I wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk woman. I’m just holding her up.”
Zoe glanced at the bulge in his pants. “Mmhmm.”
“Shit,” he whispered, scooting to stand behind Amy.
Amy looked up at him, eyes wide with concern. “What happened?”
Zoe laughed and walked away. “Finally, someone who can teach her how to be an adult.”
Amy yelled after her. “I know how to be an adult. I adult every day. I adult better than you do every damn day of the week!”
Peter put his hand over her mouth as Zoe rumbled with laughter. “Shh, Amy. That’s not what your sister’s talking about.” He removed his hand cautiously.
“What’s she talking about then? I have responsibilities. I work hard. I’m a professional and take my work very seriously.”
“She’s not talking about work.”
“Of course she is. Adult means responsibility. I have that.”
“There’s more to being an adult than responsibility.”
“Oh yeah? What is it?” Her eyelids drifted shut for a brief moment before she snapped them open again.
“Now’s not the time for this discussion.”
“If you know the answer, why won’t you tell me?”
“Because you’re drunk.”
She squeezed his shoulders and moved so that their noses were mere centimeters apart. “Tell me,” she growled.
Peter stared into Amy’s eyes, caressing his thumb over her bottom lip. “Sex,” he whispered.
She furrowed her brow. “I didn’t hear you.”
He put his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, grinding his cock against her stomach. “This.”
Amy’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Back to that?”
“Maybe.”
Hank lifted his brow and smiled as Peter helped Amy into a chair. Sarah bit her lip and looked away. She was the shyest thing Peter had ever met, and Hank adored her for it. They were practically inseparable, best friends since they were babies.
Peter blew out an exasperated breath. “Do you care if we hang out here until their ride takes them home? I don’t want to leave her like this.”
“Fine with me,” Hank said.
Sarah pointed toward the dance floor. “My date’s not near ready to go yet either.”
Peter followed her finger to see Lucy dirty dancing with every person in her vicinity. That woman showed no shame, and she was the one who was supposed to be on a mission tonight. He glanced at Hank. “Any leads on the suspect?”
Hank shook his head. “Lucy’s out there looking for him now. Said he promised to show up later tonight. It doesn’t look like he touched anything while he was sitting here though.”
Amy slouched forward. Peter caught her just as she started to fall and pulled her onto his chest. Her warm, rhythmic breath feathered against his neck. She was sound asleep.
Chapter 7
Four long, agonizing days passed, but Amy managed to keep herself busy. She even forced herself to ignore Peter’s incessant calls and texts. She responded once, telling him she’d be fine now that he’d taught her to be more aware of her surroundings. He’d tried to contact her a few times afterwards, but she didn’t answer.
Today though, she’d have to face him without a doubt. Even if he wasn’t there to walk her from her car into Betty’s, which would be ridiculous, he’d still show up when Betty called him to change a lightbulb for her.
She dressed simply. Black slacks and an olive silk blouse to keep with New Haven’s spirit of St. Patrick’s Day. The town was growing on her and she knew the ladies would raz her if she didn’t wear green. Even though the festival was two days away, she’d heard the town celebrates all week long with different themes for each day.
Amy parked in the gravel lot shared by the neighboring businesses and stepped out of her car. Her heart pounded as she looked for anyone who might be watching her, but she refused to be weak and paranoid. She held her head high and marched into the store, slightly disappointed Peter had not met her in the street. But she’d told him not to worry about her, so what could she expect?
The bell jingled as she pushed the door open, followed by giggling from the back of the room. “Peter, is that you?” Betty’s voice called out.
Amy sighed and walked into the store. “No, just me.”
Madeline and Shirley appeared from behind a row of pattern catalogs and file cabinets, each of them donning headbands with shamrocks and leprechauns at the ends of four-inch springs. “Wonder what’s taking him so long. He’s never this late.”
“It’s nice to see you again, too,” Amy said. “How did the culture and art fair turn out?”
Dorothy came around the corner wearing a shiny plastic green hat, a long strand of green, two-inch diameter beads, and a wide black belt with a large golden buckle. “It was great. Really brought out the true Irish spirit. We all went to End of the Rainbow afterwards and got shnockered off green beer.”
Betty appeared from the office hidden behind shelves of ribbons and lace at the left side of the room wearing green tights, a long green sweater dress, and wooden clogs. “We heard you got shnockered, too.”
“Who told you that?”
Betty tied a wide green bow in her hair. “Peter asked if I’d heard from your grandmother, so I called her to dig up the dirt. She told me you had your first hangover ever.” She narrowed her eyes. “How old are you?”
“Said the seventy-year-old woman with a bow on her head.” Amy made her way toward Betty and the office.
Betty smacked Amy’s ass as she passed by. “At least we know how to have fun, little lady.”
Amy grinned and sat at the tiny desk and ages old computer. “Yes, no one can argue with that.”
Betty furrowed her brow. “You’ll take breaks and come out to join us, won’t you? We’d love for you to have some fun with us.”
Amy shook her head. No way. Absolutely not. At least not until after Peter has come and gone. “I need to concentrate on what I’m doing. You know, no distractions while crunching numbers.”
Betty shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “Whatever. We have cinnamon rolls if you want one.”
“Okay.”
“And a loose board that needs to be nailed down before someone gets hurt. Peter should be here any time.” Betty smiled and wagged her eyebrows.
“Would you like me to nail it down for you?”
“No.”
“I can.” With her luck, she’d probably hit her thumb, but it would be worth it if it kept Peter from coming.
“Honey, you’re cute and all, but I think we better leave this job up to Peter. You just stick with your numbers.” Betty winked and walked away.
Amy powered on the archaic computer and sat waiting. And waiting. It took forever to come up. She probably could go get a cinnamon roll and be back by the time it was ready.
Just as she was pushing out of her chair, the familiar jingle of the bell above the front door sounded. Hopefully it was a customer and not Peter. She sat back down and waited.
Betty’s voice
sounded, loud and overly sweet. “Well, hello there! How can I help you?”
Good. It wasn’t Peter.
“I’m just looking around. Getting ideas.”
A shiver ran down Amy’s spine. It was a man’s voice. Not that men couldn’t buy fabric, but it just wasn’t what she expected. And on top of it, the voice was vaguely familiar. Odd. Melodic and gravelly.
“Ideas for what? I’m sure I could help.”
“Oh, you know, just seeing what all you have.”
Amy scooted closer to the hidden doorway.
“A little of everything,” Betty said. “And if I don’t have it, I can get it for you.”
The man chuckled. “I’m counting on it.”
Amy could tell by his voice and footsteps that he was moving throughout the entire store area rather quickly. Much too quickly for a mere browsing.
“Oh, will you look at that?” He was now at the back of the store. “So this is where all the lovely ladies of New Haven hang out. Quilting on Thursday mornings. That’s nice.”
“Yes, we do our crafts back here, but all the retail items are in front of the counter.”
A knot formed in Amy’s stomach. That smooth laugh. The coy tone of voice. Something wasn’t right. Where did she know him from?
“And where is the pretty young lady that came in here a few minutes ago?”
Amy’s heart stopped. It was that guy. The creepy one from the bar last weekend.
Betty’s voice hardened. “You can see every single one of us pretty young ladies right before your eyes.”
Shirley giggled.
“No,” the man said. “There’s another. Amy. The blonde.”
“Madeline used to be strawberry blonde. Prettiest hair you ever did see.”
Footsteps sounded as if he was making his way to the front of the store. The click of the lock was painfully loud. “I see this is going to take longer than I expected. I know Amy’s in here. I saw her walk in.”
“We don’t know an Amy.”
“Don’t lie to me. You’ll regret it.” The voice was at the back of the store again. “Empty the cash register. Everyone, put your cash and jewelry in this bag.” He chuckled. “I’m a genius, if I do say so myself. Hitting all of you up at once is like a goldmine.”
“Not so much a genius, genius. Peter will be here any minute.” Madeline stage whispered loud enough that even Amy could hear it. “Betty, call Peter.”
“I’ve already called him five times this morning. He’s not answering.”
The man chuckled. “You think I didn’t take care of him? I know your schedule. I’ve watched this place for months. You four were on my agenda, but now with Amy here, I decided to move you up on my calendar.”
The ladies all shrieked in unison. “What did you do to him?” “You didn’t hurt him, did you?” “Where is he?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but let’s just say I created a little diversion. Every policeman in this town is…well, they’re preoccupied. Believe me when I say no one’s coming for you.”
“My husband will take you down,” Betty said with a growl. “He’s a war vet, you know.”
The man sighed, as if bored. “He’s at the legion playing poker.”
Heart pounding, Amy grabbed her phone and dialed. Peter wouldn’t answer her. Not after she ignored him all week, and especially not if he was ‘preoccupied,’ but she had to try.
With shaking hands, she held the phone to her ear.
Relief flooded her when he answered on the second ring. “Amy, it’s not a good time. I’ll call you back, but promise me you’ll answer.”
“No, Peter!” she whispered.
“You won’t answer? Then why’d you call?”
“Peter, he’s here. The thief.”
“Where?”
“At Betty’s. He’s robbing the ladies right now. I’m hiding in the office.”
“Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”
“Peter!”
The phone went dead.
Unable to sit still while the ladies were in danger, she slipped off her noisy shoes and tiptoed into the store. Back toward Amy, the thief faced the ladies, reaching out to collect their valuables. Amy grabbed a bolt of fabric and moved forward.
Betty and Shirley caught her eye, then continued talking to the man as if nothing was happening. “Do you play poker? Why don’t you put your valuables out here too and we can have ourselves a little game. I bet I can call your bluff.”
“I’m not into gambling, lady. I’m into sure-things.”
Shirley reached for a plate of pastries on the table near her. “You want a cinnamon roll? They’re the best you’ll ever have.”
“Nope. Just your diamonds and cash.” He shifted toward Madeline. “Now, who’s going to tell me where Amy is? I’d hate for someone to get hurt, but that’s what happens when people lie to me.”
Amy lifted the fabric high in the air.
“Now!” Dorothy yelled.
Amy smacked the man over the head with the bolt of fabric while Dorothy rushed him and knocked him to his belly. Shirley ran to the wall of ribbons and came back with a spool of lace. Madeline sat on the man’s back and held his head to the floor while Betty scolded, finger in the air. “You’re not being a very nice young man. We don’t like when people act the way you do.”
“Quick, grab his hands,” Shirley yelled.
Dorothy pulled his hands behind his back and Shirley wrapped the lace around his wrists, tying it off into a pretty bow.
“Now his feet!”
The man rolled from side to side, struggling and cursing, but Madeline stayed on top of him like a champion bull rider.
“Shirley,” Betty chided, “that’s my best lace! Out of all you had to choose from, why’d you grab that?”
“It makes the prettiest bow.”
“His hands are getting loose!” Madeline yelled.
“I’ll get some yarn!” Betty scurried away to the knitting section.
Amy ran to the office and grabbed her purse, hurrying back out while rummaging through the bottomless pit.
“Honey, you don’t need to give him your money anymore,” Madeline said as she swayed from side to side, the springy shamrocks on her head bobbing like mad. “We got this under control.”
Amy pulled out the fuzzy green handcuffs. “This’ll work better than yarn or lace.”
“Brilliant!”
Shirley stood tall and put her foot on the man’s shoulder. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do, I mean say… How does it go? Quick, someone google Hippocratic Oath.”
“That’s for doctors, you old coot.” Dorothy rolled her eyes.
“My God, you ladies are crazy!” the man said. “I thought this would be easy.”
Shirley ignored the man, foot still on his shoulder as she stretched her body toward her phone. “Then what’s that thingy called that you recite to the perpetrator?”
“You’re not a cop,” Madeline said, sliding to and fro. “You can’t arrest him.”
“I can too. Citizen’s arrest.”
Amy panicked. Her fingers fumbled in nervousness as she tried to release the cuffs. “How the hell do you work these things?”
“Give me those.” Betty grabbed them from her, snapped them right open and latched them onto the man’s wrists. “I have this same pair. On sale this week for ten bucks. Have you ladies seen the new items Brett’s getting in next month? George is gonna be so excited.”
Dorothy grabbed Madeline’s arm and pulled her up. “Peter’s here now.”
All the ladies swiveled their heads upward. Peter stood above them, smiling down at the fiasco before him. “We didn’t hear you come in,” Betty said.
“I’m aware. Good thing Dorothy heard me pounding on the door.”
“Sorry. We had it under control though, really,” Madeline said.
Hank, Lucy, and another man whom Amy hadn’t seen before all came running in behind Peter. Lucy pulled her gun a
nd pointed it to the ceiling. “Everyone, stand back!”
Everyone stood back.
And waited.
Lucy crept up to the man who had rolled onto his side and attempted to sit up. Her nose crinkled. “What’s with the lace bows?”
“They look nice, don’t they?” Shirley beamed a proud smile.
“And the green fuzzy handcuffs?”
“Those are Amy’s,” Betty said. “She must be on Brett’s mailing list. So, like I was saying, there’s a new vibrator coming out next month that—”
“I gave them to her,” Peter said. “Amy’s not on his mailing list, and we don’t need to hear about the vibrator.”
Lucy grinned. “But we do need to hear about why you gave Amy fuzzy handcuffs.”
Amy’s cheeks heated hotter than she’d ever felt them in her life.
“Just a good luck charm. That’s all.” Peter pulled Amy to him and she eagerly buried her face against his chest. He whispered into her ear. “You’re blushing again.”
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. “I was so worried about you. Did he hurt you? Where were you?”
“He called us to a fake robbery. It was nothing, but we wasted a lot of time combing the place. No big deal.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She glanced down at the man who was glaring at her. “I was scared.”
Peter rubbed her arms. “Of course you were. But look how strong you were. I’m so proud of you.”
She looked up and tried to smile, but her lip quivered. “Must have been the good luck charm.”
Hank cleared his throat. “Uh, maybe you two should take your conversation over there while Lucy arrests this guy.”
“Oh, can I do it?” Shirley asked. “I already got it started. Do you have a little card or something I can read from? It’s so sexy on TV.”
Peter took Amy’s hand and pulled her away. “No, the handcuffs had nothing to do with it. You’ve learned to live life rather than stay inside your head. That’s all it is.”
She rested her head against him. “Because of you.”
He brushed his fingers through her hair. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me this week?”
“I was too embarrassed from the way I climbed all over you at the bar.”
Luck o' the (non)Irish (New Haven Police Romance Series Book 1) Page 6
