Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Take the Depression glass and the Belleek china from Ireland,” the head Cupid said, pointing toward the side booth.
“The what?” the widest guy asked.
The guy in the black shirt sighed. “The pink shit and the white ceramic with the green clovers.”
“Oh.” The other Cupid lumbered toward the china. He stepped onto the spilled marbles and yelled, throwing his bag up in the air and falling hard. He kicked out one foot and nailed me in the ankle. Pain clashed through my foot, and I yelped, crashing down on top of him. My hand landed on his mask, and I slid it to the side before shoving it back into place. The voice distorter was thick but I didn’t see it.
What the hell? It was Lenny. I’d just positively identified one of the Cupids.
I covered the action as much as I could and scrambled away from him, falling onto the marbles and sliding back on my bruised butt, sending them spinning. Wincing, I stood and wiped marbles off my coat, already covered in ink, paint, glittery water, and perfume, which made the spices stick to me all over. I was sure they were in my hair and on my face, too.
Lenny stood, fetched his bag, and hurried over to get the pink glasses, kicking marbles out of his way.
I stretched my back and winced. Had I pulled a back muscle? Or a butt? Everything hurt.
The head Cupid didn’t say a word. Had he seen me knock Lenny’s mask to the side? I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t sure.
I remained calm and glanced at Lisa again.
She watched the proceedings and shook her head, staring at the rolling marbles. “Maybe I can get insurance for this crap.”
“Do you have insurance?” I asked.
“I have a general policy.”
“Enough,” the main Cupid snapped, the voice way too tinny. I’d never be able to identify him. “You.” He pointed at Lenny. “Tie them up. I want some time to get away from here.”
“No, there’s no need for that,” I said, raising my hands.
He took a step closer and aimed the arrow at my heart. “I say there is.”
Chapter 18
They left us in a booth, surrounded by creepy-looking porcelain dolls, our hands tied behind our backs and attached by old-fashioned cowboy ropes to the slender legs of a heavy, antique cherrywood hutch. I could not believe this. My eye still stung, and I glared at Lisa. “Do you want to talk now?”
“Not really. I’d rather get out of here.” She levered onto her knees and tugged on the ropes.
I tried to twist my wrist, but it only caused my skin to tear.
The jerks had taken my phone, and Lenny had been the one to tie me, whispering apologies as he did. I’d kept my expression stoic because I didn’t want the main guy to know I’d recognized Lenny. Right now, he was a good lead.
I looked at the leg of the armoire.
“Don’t even think it,” Lisa snapped.
“It’s our only way out. We have to break one of them. Not both, though,” I hastened to say. If we broke them both at the same time, the furniture would fall on us, and it looked freaking heavy.
She kicked out at me, barely brushing my knee. “I said no. I can get out of this.”
“You’ve got five minutes.” I was open to blackmail at the moment. “In exchange, you get to talk.”
She glared at me but then finally rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll talk. What do you want to know?”
“How long were you and Richard Basanelli in a relationship?”
“About five years. I was older than him, but there was something charming about him. I thought we had a future together.”
Sounded like a familiar story. “He seemed to have that effect on women. Did you know he was also seeing Imogen Wilson?”
Lisa knocked her head back against a weathered bookcase. “Not until they took off that night.”
“Tell me about that night.”
She sighed. “Fine. If you talk to enough people, you’ll hear about it anyway. I was at the Pig having a drink when they came in on their way out of town.”
I perked up. “That’s news.”
She shrugged. “You’d find out anyway.”
“The sheriff didn’t know,” I said.
“Sheriff Franco?” She scoffed. “He figured Richard and Imogen had headed off to sites unseen to live happily ever after. Plus, once the old guy found out that Richard smacked his kids around a little bit, I’m not sure he was all that incentivized to find him.”
Irritation for my friends ripped through me. “A little bit? I think he smacked them around a lot.”
“They probably deserved it,” she burst out. “I had a run-in with Nick once, and I’m telling you, that kid was evil to the bone.”
I blinked. “You argued with Nick?”
“Oh, yeah. He confronted us in the middle of the street in Silverville. Kid had crazy eyes.”