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Molly Miranda: Thief for Hire (Book 1) Action Adventure Comedy

Page 17

by Jillianne Hamilton


  “You’re a bit of a lunatic sometimes.”

  He glanced at his watch. “I have to go catch my flight now. It’ll be good to get back to Scotland.”

  “Enjoy your endless rain.” I stood up and got my suitcase off the floor.

  Rhys squeezed my hand and kissed me. I had to admit it—his lips were very soft.

  “I’m glad you have your freckles back, kid.”

  “You have to stop kissing me, okay?”

  He stood up straight and grinned. “Only when you stop kissing me back.” He grabbed his suitcase and strolled away to his departure gate, glancing at me over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A bell above the door jingled as I walked into the pawnshop in Fairfield, Connecticut. A few people were milling around, looking at used guitars hanging on the walls and jewelry lined up in rows in display cabinets.

  I examined a guitar mounted behind protective glass before returning to the cabinets, checking out the sparkly items within. The guy behind the counter smiled at me.

  “Can I help you find something?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I looked over my shoulder. “I’m looking for some old jewelry. Real diamonds.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I assure you, we don’t purchase jewelry with fake gems.”

  “Except that one.” I pointed to a diamond-encrusted brooch on a pillow and then to a nearby ring. “And that one. And everything else in this cabinet.”

  His eyes widened. “Ma’am. Those are all real—”

  “No, they’re not and we both know it.” I made sure to keep my voice low and my demeanor calm. “Now. I’d like to see the good stuff. Do you understand?”

  He glanced around at the other patrons and nodded. “I keep them in my office.”

  He looked annoyed. I guess I would be annoyed too if a twenty-something in jeans and a hoodie came strolling into my store and knew immediately which items were bogus.

  I followed him to a small room in the back. He closed the door behind me, glancing at me nervously.

  He unlocked a safe and took out several flat boxes. He lifted off the covers. I certainly had a lot of different styles and colors to choose from. Rings, necklaces, brooches and bracelets—all real gems. Bands of silver, gold and platinum.

  “How … how did you know … about our other selection?”

  “Calm down,” I said, not looking away from the lovely pieces on the desk in front of me. “I’m not going to report you.”

  I picked up a diamond necklace with a teardrop emerald hanging from it.

  “That one’s beautiful.” The man nodded. “Just got that one in a few days ago.”

  I nodded. “It’s nice.” I put it back down and inspected a diamond ring. It was a round diamond with little silver pieces surrounding it, making the setting look like a glittery lotus flower. Written in tiny letters inside the silver band were the words ‘I will love you forever.’

  I quickly surveyed the rest of the pieces before turning to face the salesman.

  “I’ll take this ring and the necklace.”

  He frowned at me. “You don’t even know how much they cost.”

  I batted my eyelashes innocently. “I assume you’ll give me a fair price, especially since every piece of jewelry you have out there is fake. Plus, you’ve got that fake 1965 Fender Stratocaster out there—”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “The Strat is not a fake! We got it from a trusted seller. He wouldn’t screw us like that.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

  His right eye twitched as he considered this. He breathed out slowly, closed his eyes and cleared his throat. He looked like he might be sick.

  “Will that be cash or credit, ma’am?”

  * * *

  “And who are you?”

  “I’m his daughter.”

  “Oh,” the nurse said, peering at me over the top of his clipboard. “Paul didn’t mention he had a daughter.” Lines appeared at the corner of her mouth as she smiled. “Go on in.”

  I nodded my thanks. The police officer stationed outside the door didn’t even glance at me as I slipped into the private hospital room. Paul, sitting up in bed while reading a newspaper, looked up and glanced nervously at the security guard.

  “Good morning, young lady. Didn’t expect to see you here … today.”

  “Hi, Dad.”

  Paul rolled his eyes and I sat beside him on the hospital bed. He glanced at the guard outside and lowered his voice. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “It’s okay. I wanted to see you. How are you?”

  Paul smiled and patted his bandaged chest. “I’ve been better. The doctors say I’m lucky. God was looking out for me that day.”

  I glanced at the doorway. The cop was flirting with a pretty nurse.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered. “You’re safe now.”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “With that guy at my doorway? I doubt it.”

  “No, I mean it.” I widened my eyes so he would catch my drift. “You’re safe now.”

  Paul sat back on his pillow and nodded. “Is that so?”

  “Yup. I’ll tell you about it later when you’re out.”

  A vase of flowers sat on the windowsill. The edges of the petals looked a bit wrinkled and faded.

  “My son’s girlfriend brought me those a few days ago.” He chuckled and winced, rubbing his chest again. “I told her to bring pizza next time!”

  I laughed and adjusted my wig. “I should probably go. Can I get you anything? A soda? Something from the cafeteria maybe?”

  “I’m fine. I’m glad you stopped by.” He smiled and held my hand. “You take care of yourself, missy.”

  “I always do.”

  * * *

  I pulled a blanket around my feet while reading a book on the sofa. The sun was shining in, making me all warm and sleepy.

  The intercom buzzed. I reluctantly left my perfect place on the sofa and answered it.

  “Housekeeping!” I sang into the intercom. The intercom crackled a bit in reply.

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” It was Nate. “Did Molly get a housekeeper?”

  I laughed. “It’s me. I’m just kidding. Come on up.”

  I was expecting him to call or text me, but for him to actually show up at my apartment was a nice gesture. I quickly ran to the bathroom to check my hair and make sure I didn’t look like a total slob before answering the door.

  Nate arrived at the door and I let him in with a smile.

  “Can I get you a bottle of water or anything?” I asked. “Maybe a beer?”

  He rubbed his shoulder awkwardly. “No, that’s alright.” He forced himself to make eye contact. “Thanks, though.”

  I nodded. “How are you?”

  “A little confused.” He leaned against the wall, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Oh?” I got a bottle of water out and twisted off the cap.

  “Yeah. I got a call from my grandmother this morning.”

  I sat cross-legged on the sofa and nodded. “How is she doing?”

  “Her faith in humanity has been restored.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Burglars broke into her home and stole her TV and some jewelry that my grandfather gave her.”

  I sipped my water. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Nate gave me a look. “Do you find it odd that the burglars returned the jewelry to her by slipping an envelope under the front door? And that they also had a newer, bigger TV delivered to her?”

  I shrugged. “They must have felt really bad.”

  Nate rolled his eyes. “Molly, I know that was you. I take it Ruby told you about the burglary?”

  I smiled. “You can’t prove anything.”

  He sat next to me on the sofa. “How did you get the jewelry back?”

  “I went to every pawn shop in Bridgeport. Found the diamond tennis bracelet. Then I went to severa
l pawn shops in Fairfield and found the ring and the necklace.”

  “Did you … steal them from the pawn shop?” He frowned.

  “No,” I snapped. “I bought them.”

  “Oh.” He stared at me for a moment while he figured out what to say. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because you love your grandma,” I said. “And people who steal from seniors living on a pension piss me off.”

  Nate slid his hand into mine and held it. “It was a very nice thing to do.”

  “I felt like I probably owed you after all the shitty things I’ve said and done—”

  “No, I was the one who was being shitty,” he said. “Your job … what you do … it still scares the hell out of me, honestly.” Nate smiled shyly. He really was a lovely guy. “But I still feel … the same way I felt before, about you.” His soft thumb brushed mine as he held my hand. “I don’t know what to do about that.”

  I just wanted to hug him so much. But I didn’t.

  “I’d like to try again,” he said. “We can make it work.”

  I slid my hand away from his. “I don’t think so.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  My stomach turned. It would be much easier if Nate could just read my mind instead of me having to actually utter the words.

  “I’m never going to be able to make you happy,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “I’m not about to give up what I do. It’s not just a job to me. You’re never going to be okay with it and you know it. You shouldn’t be okay with it. If you were okay with it, you wouldn’t be who you are.”

  Nate stared at me, bewilderment painted on his face. “Uh … okay.” He sat back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “That’s not what I was expecting you to say.”

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t think we’re a good fit. I care about you a lot. I’d love it if we could stay friends.” A wave of relief washed over me. There. I said it.

  “I thought I might even be moving back in with you.”

  I shook my head. “I’m actually selling this place and moving next month.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I don’t need a two-bedroom condo this close to the park,” I said. “I’m gone more than I’m here. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  What I didn’t tell Nate was my plan to donate every penny from the sale of the apartment to a women’s shelter in Brooklyn. The idea came from Ruby. To date, it’s the smartest thing she’s ever said.

  Nate and I hugged goodbye and he left. I could tell he was hurt and confused. But he was a catch. Any woman would be lucky to have him. That woman just wasn’t me.

  I went back to the sunny spot on the sofa and stared out the window. More than anything else about this apartment, I’d miss the view.

  Maybe I’ll keep a key to this apartment so I can occasionally check up on it, just in case.

  I opened my book once more but was soon interrupted by my phone. I answered it.

  “Oh, good. For once, you’re not sleeping.”

  “Hi, Audrey.” I smiled. “How are things?”

  “No time to chat. I have to ask you something.”

  I sat up. “Yes?”

  “Have you ever been to Barcelona?”

  I thought for a moment.

  That’s in South America, right?

  THANK YOU FOR READING

  Thank you so much for reading Molly Miranda: Thief for Hire. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, iBooks or the inside of a sketchy bathroom stall. Ya know, wherever. I would appreciate it. Your positive vibes would really help me out.

  Sign up for my e-newsletter to get an exclusive Molly Miranda freebie and sequel updates!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Major kudos to my editors Colleen McKie and Allister Thompson. Thank you to Patti Larsen for her words of wisdom and K.M. Weiland for her book Outlining Your Novel: Map Your Way to Success- it saved me.

  Thank you to all the English teachers I had in school who encouraged me to write.

  Thanks to Meg Cabot and Louise Rennison for inspiring me.

  I'd also like to thank: Ashley Paynter, Melissa McInnis, April Condon, Jessica Caseley, Leo McKay and Bronwen Breeze. Thank you for believing in me.

  Thank you to former jewel thief Bill Mason. Bill, if you ever happen to read this, can you please contact me? I'd love to chat.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jillianne Hamilton is a writer and graphic designer. She studied Journalism and Interactive Multimedia in college and her writing has been published in The Truro Daily News, The Sackville Tribune-Post, Macleans OnCampus and the PEI Writes 2013 Anthology. She grew up in Nova Scotia and now lives in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island on Canada's east coast. She enjoys corgi GIF animations and chocolate cheese cake.

  You can follow Jillianne on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram or on her website.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THANK YOU FOR READING

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

 


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