“Are you implying that we stink?” I raised an arm and sniffed the air. “Damn, I thought I smelled like flowers, but apparently not.”
“I thought Neil had a cold?” Les asked, following us out of the room.
“He had a fever, so I made him go to the doctor. Good thing he did, because it’s a sinus infection.” She dug her keychain out of her purse. “Can you give Ryan a ride to my house?”
“Yeah, sure.” He turned down the hallway leading to the locker area.
“See you in a bit.” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and went to clean up.
A bleary-eyed Neil opened the door when I got to the house, shuffling back to the den in holey sweatpants and a hoodie. He blew his nose and mummified himself in a blanket before crashing on the couch. “She went to the store for chicken soup and a humidifier, God love her.”
I made a finger cross and got comfy in one of the overstuffed chairs. “Keep your germs over there.”
Oscar jumped up on the cushions and curled into a ball at Neil’s feet as the opening credits for Happy Gilmore flashed across the TV screen. By the time Happy won his bet with the moving men outside his grandmother’s house, man and dog both snored.
Basketball practice must have worn me out, because next thing I knew, my phone woke me up. I groggily studied the unfamiliar number and swiped my finger across the screen to take the call.
“Ryan? Something happened, and I need you to come get me.” Collette’s voice shook as she spoke, instantly awakening me.
“What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?” I fired off, stuffing my feet into my shoes.
“I got mugged. I’m okay, just a little banged up. The police suggested I get checked over, so I’m at the hospital.”
An alarm screamed in my head, turning my blood into ice water. “Which one? I’m leaving now.”
She gave me the name, and we hung up.
Neil rose from the sofa. “Talk to me,” he said, tossing aside the blanket.
“She got mugged and is at Lakeshore General.”
He pulled on a ball cap and a pair of sneakers and locked the door behind us.
During the short drive, Neil called Les to let him know what had happened. After checking in at the ER triage desk, he took a seat in the waiting area. A nurse escorted me to a room where Collette was in the process of giving her statement.
One look at the cold pack pressed against her cheek almost made me lose my shit. “Someone hit you?” I grated out. The ice in my veins thawed as rage flowed through me.
Her red-rimmed eyes filled with tears. “I was putting bags in the trunk and someone came up behind me. He jabbed something hard into my back and said he’d hurt me if I made any noise. I handed over my purse right away, but then he told me to give him my jewelry.” She stopped and wiped her cheek, wincing when her fingers made contact with the bruised skin. “I told him he could have the car and tried to give him my keys, but he wouldn’t take them.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, fighting to stay composed for her sake. Unclenching a fisted hand, I gently stroked the back of her neck. I’d never felt so helpless in my entire life, and it pissed me off.
“He backhanded me when I begged him to let me keep my mother’s ring.” She cried in earnest now, her shoulders shaking violently. “Took it off my finger while I was on the ground.”
I wanted to send my fist into the nearest wall. That little diamond ring meant the world to her. Collette drove a Tesla, which would probably sell for a decent price on the black market. Snatching a purse and jewelry were quicker and easier than stealing a car, so I understood why he’d refused the keys. But damn it, why couldn’t he have just left the ring alone?
A police officer rose from the chair next to her bed and extended a hand. “You must be the boyfriend. I’m Sergeant Kelvin.”
“Ryan McMillan.” I shook his hand and sat next to her. “Is this somehow related to the other robberies that have recently occurred in this area?”
“That’s what we would like to determine,” Kelvin said. “And thanks to Ms. Russo, we have new evidence to work with.”
“He has a tattoo. Right here.” Collette pointed to the right side of her neck. “Babydoll–one word instead of two–in a flowy script with a green vine and ivy leaves around it.”
Kelvin continued to ask questions, recording Collette’s answers and occasionally jotting notes on a pad. After what felt like hours, he clicked his pen shut and took pictures of her injury for evidentiary purposes. “I’ve got what I need for now. I want you to come in and look at some mugshots tomorrow or the day after, while your memory is still fresh. I’ll also arrange for a sketch artist to sit down with you for a composite drawing. If you remember anything else, please give me a call.” He slid a business card across the mattress.
A nurse came in with release paperwork. “You’re free to leave,” she said once the forms were signed, pulling back the privacy curtain.
I helped Collette up and guided her out of the treatment room. “Let’s get you home,” I murmured, wanting nothing more than to get her away from here as fast as possible.
Neil paled, and Les turned beet red when they saw Collette’s bruised face. “I’m okay,” she said quickly. “It looks worse than it really is.”
“How can you even say that with a straight face?” Les asked, spearing a hand through his hair. “Because from where I’m standing it looks pretty fucking bad. A guy robbed you and hit you hard enough to leave a mark.”
“I want to leave a mark on the bastard who did this you,” Neil said as we exited the hospital.
“Get in line,” Les muttered. “I’ll take Coco home. You guys can pick up her car and some food.”
I wasn’t in the mood for a pissing match, not when my girl looked like she’d been through the wringer. And I had no desire whatsoever to leave her side, especially since I should have been standing next to her to put those bags in the trunk. Guilt swamped me for not being there. The robber wouldn’t have bothered with her if she hadn’t been alone in that parking lot. I should’ve skipped the shower at the center and left with her.
With my eyes firmly locked on Les, I passed my keys to Neil. He took them and walked Collette to my car.
“What the fuck?” Les growled. “Are you deaf?”
“No, but I am sick of your micromanaging bullshit. So is everyone else. Go get Collette’s car and take Neil to get the stuff she never had the chance to give him since he’s sick as a dog. It’s the best way you can help right now. Take it or leave it.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stared at me with a furious expression. I stood my ground and didn’t blink once.
Neil returned and sighed when he saw our showdown stance. “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he snapped. “Not now and especially not here. I’ll leave both of your stupid asses in a holding cell overnight. Give me her keys.”
I pulled them out of my jacket pocket. Neil palmed them and stalked off, waiting by Les’s SUV.
“Guys? Is everything okay?” Collette called out the window, her brows furrowed in concern.
Les swung his gaze in her direction. “We were ironing out some details about your car and dinner,” he replied, giving her a tight half-smile. Then he turned and headed toward Neil.
She nodded and closed the window. “For a second there, I thought you two were about to fistfight,” she said as I climbed behind the steering wheel.
I drove in a white-knuckled, molar-crushing rage, courtesy of Les and the son-of-a-bitch who’d robbed and attacked my girlfriend. If the cops caught the guy who’d done this to her, jail would be the least of his problems. I’d beat the living shit out of him for taking my girl’s prized possession and harming her in the process. As for Les, I had zero fucks to give about what he thought of me. Collette was my only concern.
“That ring was one of a few things I have left of my mom,” Collette murmured, dragging the sleeve of her sweater across her eyes.
My heart threatened to break int
o a million pieces. “If this was the same guy who’s mugged other people, he’s a cocky bastard who doesn’t know when to quit. It’s just a matter of time until he screws up or brags to someone and gets caught. We’ll get it back.” I made a mental note to speak to Neil and Les about checking all the local pawn shops. A scumbag looking to score some quick cash would probably unload the bauble without a second thought.
“I need to cancel my debit card and my credit cards.” She gingerly touched her injured face and winced, hissing in pain.
I hung a right and pulled into a parking spot on her street. “One thing at a time. Take something for the pain first. The cancellations can wait while you catch your breath.”
“Oh my God, he has my license!” she wailed, her dark eyes wide with fright. “What if he’s waiting in the house?”
Her fear of her own house intensified my anger. Forget about beating the shit out of the lowlife who had scared her this badly–I’d kill him with my bare hands. “I’ll check the yard and do a walk-through if it will make you feel better, but I seriously doubt anyone other than Oscar is in there. We’ll get the locks changed so you won’t have to worry about this again.”
Collette stayed in the car while I walked around the perimeter of the house. There were no signs of a break-in, so I went inside and inspected every nook and cranny on both floors. Once my investigation was finished, I carried Oscar out to give her visible proof that everything was fine. The lines creasing her forehead smoothed out when she saw the little guy in my arms.
She flung open the door, making grabby hands. “There’s my sweet boy.”
All the stuff I’d read about how animals can sense distress in humans seemed spot-on because the usually squirmy pooch rested his head on her shoulder and snuggled his small body into hers. He’d just earned himself a steak dinner for letting her baby him.
We went in the house. She took one look at Neil’s makeshift sickbed in the den and detoured to the kitchen.
Collette removed a bottle of ibuprofen from a cupboard and dry-swallowed two tablets.
“How about a cup of tea?” I asked, reaching to turn on the Keurig machine.
“Rain check. I’d rather have a cup of vodka right now.”
Amen to that. I pulled two highballs and a bottle of Grey Goose out of the liquor cabinet, tonic water from the fridge, and ice cubes from the in-door dispenser. She sliced a lemon as I mixed the cocktails. We drank in silence, draining our glasses in minutes.
Neil and Les showed up with enough food to feed an army as we took our first sips of round two. They unloaded pints of ice cream in her favorite flavors and stuck them in the freezer. We sat down at a table loaded with fried chicken, potato salad, and coleslaw. “The deli was still open, and sicko here wanted the special,” Les explained, dribbling hot sauce on a drumstick.
After dinner, Collette got on the phone to begin the process of canceling and reopening accounts. Taking advantage of her being occupied by the tedious task, I beckoned the two men to follow me into another room and told them about the missing license.
Les whipped out his phone and called the first locksmith with emergency hours he found after a quick internet search. “He’ll be here within the hour. She shouldn’t go anywhere by herself until they catch the guy,” he said. “A buddy of mine runs a security company and can get a detail together pretty quickly.”
“I think the three of us can handle it.” Neil coughed and cast a glance toward the kitchen. “No need to blow it all out of proportion and risk upsetting her more than she already is.”
I nodded in agreement. “An armed guard will freak her out and make her paranoid. She’ll be a basket case worrying about someone lurking around every corner. We can keep her safe without compromising her peace of mind.”
“All right,” he conceded. “I don’t want Coco running to a shrink over this. But if anything else happens, I’m calling in a professional.”
“Fine by me,” Neil said. “You mind staying here tonight so I can drug up and pass out?” he asked me.
I expected a snide comment from Les about how I slept over all the time, but he only gave me an expectant look. Shocker. “I can hold down the fort. No problem.”
Neil dosed himself with antibiotics and NyQuil and scrolled through the Netflix queue for another Adam Sandler movie.
Les dealt with the locksmith, freeing me up to keep Collette company at the center island as she sat on hold and spoke with customer service representatives. When she finished, we celebrated by sharing a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream and engaged in a lightsaber-style spoon duel for the last bite.
“This is one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever done.” She giggled and dropped her spoon on the countertop, the loud clatter rousing Oscar from where he slept on the small mat in front of the kitchen sink. He scrabbled up and stretched, one ear turned inside out until it flopped over when he shook his furry head. The dog trotted over and licked his chops, his brown eyes trained on the paper container and his coal-black nose twitching as he sniffed.
“Sorry, buddy. There’s chocolate in here. How about something that won’t make you sick?” His tail thumped against the floor in response. I went over to the pantry and fished a treat out of the plastic container decorated with paw prints. Squatting down, I held it up for him to see. He sat and lifted a paw. “Good boy,” I praised, shaking it twice before giving him the turkey-flavored bone.
Collette grinned around the spoon in her mouth when I stood.
“Cheater,” I muttered, thoroughly humored by her antics. “I was going to let you have it.”
“You snooze, you lose.” She put our dirty utensils in the dishwasher and chucked the empty container in the trash can.
“Oh, so that’s how you operate, is it?” I wrapped my arms around her for a hug and grinned when she reciprocated. In one swift movement, I bound her wrists together in my left hand and used the right to tickle her ribs. She squealed and frantically tried to get out of my viselike grip, twisting her torso and purposely letting her knees give out. “Sucks to be yooou,” I sang gleefully, sinking to the floor with her. “Help me out, Oscar. Get her!”
He jumped up and licked her chin, then laid another doggy kiss on the tip of her nose. “Nooo!” she gasped, inchworming across the floor on her side. Oscar and I were relentless, turning her into a giggling, breathless heap.
“Yesss,” I cackled, teasing the vulnerable spot on the inside of her elbow. Her laughter was a laser beam. It cut through the ball of worry that had formed in my stomach after seeing her at the hospital. I knew she was still shaken up from the mugging and was glad to see she was up to playing around and acting silly.
“I’m going to pee in my pants if you don’t stop,” she warned, panting harder than the dog licking her forehead. “Truce! Truce!” she pleaded, burying her face in my chest to avoid another slobbery lick on the chin.
“Sorry to interrupt your game of grab-ass,” Les said from the archway, his tone laced with amusement. “The locks are all taken care of.” He held up two silver keys, then set them on the counter. “I’d like a copy at some point in the near future.”
Collette got up and launched herself at him. He embraced her tightly, lifting her off the floor and swinging her from side to side. His eyes closed for a beat when she whispered something in his ear. When they opened, I saw how much the simple show of gratitude had cracked his hard veneer. The overbearing, protective caveman had disappeared, leaving an average guy tremendously worried about someone clearly dear to him. It was hard to dislike someone who cared so much about the woman I loved. Even though he didn’t deserve it, I decided to throw him an olive branch as soon as we had a moment of privacy.
He set her down gently. “I’m going to head home. Can I make a suggestion?”
“You know you can,” she said, giving him a stern look.
“Sleep in tomorrow morning and take the day off.” He held up a hand when she moved to speak. “Hear me out. Everything is ready for the b
enefit on Saturday night. If any issues spring up, Luke and I can handle them.”
The foundation was sponsoring Scared Pink, a costume ball two evenings from now, on Halloween. All ticket sales and donations during the event were earmarked for the oncology unit at Chicago Grace Hospital, where Henri Wright had undergone treatment. It was a unique way of commemorating her battle during Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
“Okay,” she said, her tone full of reluctance. “I was going to work on my paper, but I can do that here.”
Les smiled victoriously. “And don’t call to check in every half hour, either.”
I snickered as she gave him a dirty look. “He knows you well.”
“Too well,” she muttered on a yawn. “I think all the excitement has finally worn off. Guess I’ll head upstairs and get ready for bed.” She jogged up the back staircase, waving goodbye to Les over her shoulder.
He and I stood there in the middle of the kitchen, squaring off once again with our arms folded across our chests as her footsteps thudded above our heads. The sound of running water indicated she was in her bathroom and would be there for a while, providing me the perfect opportunity to extend the olive branch.
“There might be a reason for you to call your guy at the security firm,” I said in a low voice.
Les’s wary expression changed to one of interest. “What do you have in mind?”
I quickly explained my pawn shop theory. “I figure there are at least a hundred shops in Chicago proper. But the thief could go to one in the suburbs to try and cover his tracks, so tack on another hundred. Even if the three of us split it up, it would be tough to work day jobs and do this at the same time.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “But if we hire a private eye, he can do all the legwork,” he said, nodding slowly. “And as luck would have it, Greg has some on staff. I’ll call him first thing in the morning. Collette has a picture of her parents on their wedding day on a bookshelf in the library. I’ll grab it on my way out and scan it at the office so I can enlarge the ring. Then the PI will have something to show the shop owners.”
More than Money (Found in Chicago Book 1) Page 14