Stealing the Countess by David Housewright Page B

like I said earlier, I’m nothing if not polite.
    â€œIt is so good to see you again,” she said.
    â€œI wish I could say the same.”
    â€œMcKenzie!”
    She pulled away. The shocked and outraged expression on her face lasted about two seconds before it was replaced by a smile.
    â€œWhat are you doing here, Heavenly?” I asked.
    â€œThe same thing you are. I’m after the Countess Borromeo.”
    â€œYou mean you didn’t steal it already?”
    â€œWhat kind of question is that?”
    â€œBased on past experience…”
    â€œI’m hurt, McKenzie. Hurt by your insinuation.”
    â€œPaul Duclos is offering $250,000 for its safe return.”
    â€œI heard. I bet the thieves were expecting more.”
    â€œHow about you?”
    â€œI’d be more than satisfied with a quarter of a million.”
    â€œSure you would.”
    â€œJust as long as I come out ahead, that’s the main thing.”
    â€œHeavenly—”
    â€œI don’t have the violin, McKenzie. Honestly, I don’t. If I did, I’d make a deal right now and invite you to dinner. At least I’d buy dinner after you came up with the money. You do have the money, don’t you?”
    She moved closer to me.
    â€œIt’s in the Cities,” I said.
    â€œOh? Is Nina holding it?”
    â€œNo, she’s not.”
    â€œHow is Nina these days?”
    Heavenly ran the tips of her fingers under the collar of my shirt.
    â€œDo you care?” I asked her.
    â€œI do. I’ve always liked her, even if she doesn’t like me. What did she call me last time? A thug?”
    â€œActually, I called you a thug. In any case, Nina doesn’t object to your profession so much as the fact that you’re always hitting on her boyfriend.”
    Heavenly kissed me hard on the mouth and smiled her irresistible smile.
    â€œStop teasing,” I said.
    She thought that was funny.
    I gave her a gentle shove. Heavenly found a comfortable spot on the corner of my bed. I sat in a chair far enough away that it would take an effort for her to attack me again.
    â€œSeriously,” she said. “I really am happy to see you.”
    â€œIf you don’t have the Countess already, what are you doing in Bayfield?”
    â€œLooking for it.”
    â€œFor whom?”
    â€œDoes there have to be a for whom?”
    â€œYou checked into a bed-and-breakfast under an assumed name.”
    â€œThere could be a lot of reasons for that.”
    â€œOnly one. You don’t want anybody to know that you’re here. Why? You’re not wanted, are you, Heavenly?”
    â€œPeople have been wanting me since I was fourteen years old—except for you, of course. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”
    â€œI meant by the police.”
    â€œNo, I’m not wanted by the police.”
    â€œI could check.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do? Call your friend Bobby? How is Commander Dunston these days? He’s still a commander, right? They haven’t made him chief of police or anything, have they?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œThere’s no paper on me, McKenzie. As far as I know.”
    â€œWell, then…”
    â€œThere you go again, being all accusatory.”
    â€œWhen did you get here?”
    â€œI’m going to answer that question. Do you know why?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I know you’re going to check anyway. I arrived Saturday morning.”
    By then the theft was national news, I reminded myself, but the Peyroux Foundation—and Midwest Insurance—had not yet posted the conditions for the $250,000 reward they were offering. That would come later in the afternoon.
    â€œDo you think the Stradivarius is still in Bayfield?” I asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWho do you think took it?”
    â€œConnor Rasmussen.” Something in my expression must have given me away, because Heavenly quickly added,