Page 101 of The Body in the Backyard
“No!” they all snapped.
“As I was saying, I’ve got something for you you’re going to want,” Nick said, reaching into his jacket pocket.
“Unless it’s a winning lottery ticket, I’m not interested,” Wilfred said morosely.
Nick tossed the cuff links on the counter like they were dice. “How about now?”
“My cuff links! How did you…?”
Nick chanced a glance at Weber. “It’s probably best if you don’t know. I hope this helps you out and irons out any grudges you may be carrying.”
Wilfred went back to looking morose. “Thank you for returning these. It means the world to me. It really does. But unless I can find a buyer in the next three days, I’ll still have to close.”
“Funny you say that, because I happen to know someone with questionable taste and a credit limit higher than the Empire State Building,” Nick said, sliding a phone number across the counter. “I made a call and sent some pictures. My friend Beth wants the cuff links to surprise her husband with before they start shooting their reality show this week. You’ll be credited in the show as the jewelry designer.”
“My sister? Seriously, Nicky?” Weber muttered.
“Zip it,” Nick told him before turning back to Wilfred. “She also said she’s interested in a bunch of other stuff, but I stopped listening, so that’s on you now.”
“Hey! Those look like my cuff links,” Griffin noted, craning his neck from his chair. “I had a jeweler design them, and then he didn’t make me pay for them. Isn’t that great?”
“What did I say about ice cream?” Nick snarled.
“Oops. Sorry! I forgot,” Griffin said. He took out his phone, opened the camera app, and began entertaining himself with selfies.
“I–I can’t thank you enough,” Wilfred said. “This is an answer to our prayers, isn’t it, Elizabeth Taylor? Goodness. I might need to sit down.”
“Mind if we take a look around?” Nick asked with his eye on a case of sparkle.
“Mind? You can play beer pong on top of the Rolexes,” Wilfred said, sounding dazed.
Nick sidled over to the case and eyeballed the engagement rings. The ring was still there. His fingers itched to handle it.
“You can’t be serious, Nicky,” Weber said, looking over Nick’s shoulder.
“Serious about what?”
“You’re looking at engagement rings. Are you actually thinking about proposing?”
“I would be, but my girlfriend is a psychic, and Muscle Milk over there refuses to tell me how to hide it from her.”
Gabe joined them at the case. “This is what you wished to hide? I naturally assumed it was a gambling debt or a bed-wetting problem.”
“You know, the more time you spend with us, the meaner you get. And the meaner you get, the less I hate you,” Nick said.
“I believe you just complimented me,” Gabe said.
“Maybe I’ll be more complimentary if you help me figure out how to surprise Riley.”
“It would be my great honor,” Gabe said.
“What makes you think she’ll say yes? You’re not exactly an easy sell,” Weber pointed out.
“I was thinking about asking her during sex. You know, when she’s more inclined to say yes a dozen times in a row. Hey, Wilfred. What the hell is a karat?”
Wilfred’s response was cut off by the crash of the glass door flying open and hitting an empty sunglasses display. Three men wearing ski masks and carrying guns stormed inside.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Weber muttered.
