Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [77]
Sell Your Gold for Cash was a quick ten-minute drive from Haven, close to Front and Jarvis, and closed for the day, which, since it was after midnight when we arrived, was not unexpected.
George seemed excited at the prospect of a late-night break-and-enter, which I wasn’t sure was a good thing.
“I’m excited,” he stated, as he pulled out a pouch from his manbag that looked like a manicure set. He unzipped it to show that it contained several long metal rods of varying widths.
“What’s up with that?” I asked him. “I had no idea you could do something like this.”
“Well, it’s not exactly the sort of thing one discusses with just anyone. But since I know you, I suppose I can come clean. In the fifties, I was a world-renowned cat burglar.”
I was shocked. “You were?”
He blinked. “Well, okay, assistant to a world-renowned cat burglar. Dammit, I can’t lie very well. I answered the phones and gathered together bail money when necessary. But he taught me a lot.” Another blink. “Pierre now lives in Tahiti and collects cabana boys. But whatever. Bygones. I’m over it.”
I felt like comforting him, but I was too stressed. I wanted to get the necklace and get the hell out of there. “Let’s get started.”
“That actually won’t be necessary after all, George,” Thierry said, and he leaned past me and pressed a buzzer on the side of the door.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I was able to reach the owner by telephone. He agreed to open the store for us.”
After a minute, the lights flickered on inside the store and somebody approached the door.
George pouted. “Why am I even here?”
“I’m sorry, George,” Thierry said. “Perhaps another time.”
He tucked the lock-picking kit back into his manbag. “I am incredibly disappointed. Though the sensation is extremely familiar lately.”
It was a man dressed in a brightly colored bathrobe, and he looked extremely sleepy. He had a puffy face, squinty eyes that he rubbed at the sudden brightness of the lighting, and a hairline so receded it was practically in the next room. He blinked a couple of times as he gazed through the door at us. Then he unlocked the door and swung it open.
I suddenly recognized him from his TV commercials. His name was Hans Christie and he had a great onscreen personality that made me want to gather up all my jewelry, such as it is, and bring it to him.
His expression at the moment was not a friendly one. “Come in,” he growled. I could hear his thick New York accent. “Let’s make this quick. You woke me from a very pleasant dream. My wife will owe me for this.”
“Your wife is a very good customer at my club,” Thierry said. “If she had sired you, I would have been pleased to welcome you any time at my club, but unfortunately nonvampiric members of society aren’t permitted in Haven. I’m sure you understand the security risks involved.”
The man grunted. “The last thing I want to be is a bloodsucker. My wife’s nightly excursions are her own business.”
“You’re human and your wife is a vampire?” Amy asked.
“That’s right. Married for forty years now.”
I thought of my cousin Missy and her husband. “I’ve always wondered how that works out. When one refuses to be turned. It must be difficult. Have you never considered it before? The chance to be immortal?”
Hans snorted. “Immortal? Life is difficult enough knowing I have seventy or eighty years to suffer through, let alone imagining hundreds of years. No, I never wanted an open-ended existence.”
“But your relationship is solid?”
“We’re going through a divorce right now.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. It was a mistake. Humans and vampires shouldn’t become involved with each other. Besides, one in two regular marriages end in divorce. Do you know the percentage of human-vampire marriages that end in divorce?”
I shook my head.
“A hell of a lot more!” he said, and then cleared his throat. “I apologize. I don’t mean to seem agitated, but this whole divorce is grating on my very last nerve.”
“We appreciate you taking the time to open your shop so late,” Thierry said. “Especially given your relationship