Page 16 of Stolen Christmas
“I promise I’m not bothered by the store’s actions, although I am surprised at how the kid was allowed access to the piece.” It makes no sense how the kid could snatch this so easily. He walked in here like he was old enough to be shopping here in the first place, and then yanked the bracelet. Either they’rethe most incompetent employees, or some other shit was going down.
“He grabbed it while the cabinet was opened for another guest.”
“Where was the woman that was standing next to him?” I ask. Initially I thought they were together, but she isn’t around.
“She was the guest we’d been opening the case for,” he remarks. He was busy assisting me, so he would not have been directly involved in the matter. I wonder how much he was aware of the interaction between the young woman and the boy.
He sighs. “She left right after, disturbed because he started to lunge at her. Although, we did receive her information, so we can easily contact the woman again.”
“Hmm…” I wonder if all the details she provided them are legit. I smell a tag-team theft in progress.
“What is it?” he asks. I’m not giving this fucker any more information than necessary. He can do his own work, or the cops can. It’s not my job to deal with his theft. Besides, it will impede my revenge. There is no way I’m letting that happen if I can help it.
“Nothing. Excuse me. I need to get going. Is everything good?” I wave at my card that he is still holding.
“Oh, yes. Here you go. Let me wrap it up.” He hands me the credit card and receipt for the tennis bracelet that cost nearly ten thousand dollars. Yes, something doesn’t add up.
“No, thank you. I already have a broken jewelry box. I’d rather just hold on to this.”
“Perhaps we can have the box repaired.”
“Another time. I really must go.” I leave the store at a quickened pace, but I remain composed.
I slide into the back of my SUV, which is thankfully now in the dry spot, and tell my driver, “We’ll head to the police station.” The entire time, I think about what I’m going to do with him. He needs to be dealt with. One, he accosted me and then insulted me, both of which should have had his head smashed in. Finally, he planted a costly bracelet on me. “Boss, when the boy goes missing, they’re going to think it was you.”
“I’m just following up with the case. After all, I’ll be returning the jewelry and claiming it must have fallen in there in our collision.”
We pull into the lot behind the police car holding the little shit and wait for them to take him inside. “Wait here. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.” Before I exit, I leave all weapons inside the vehicle. I step out and adjust my suit, ready to strike a deal with the cops in this place. I fucking hate these bastards in here, but some of them are well aware of who I am and will understand that my request isn’t really a request, but merely a formality.
Entering the station, I address the beat cop at the front desk who doesn’t bother looking up from his paper. Of all the sons of bitches to be working at this one, it’s my favorite piece of shit. The one I want buried six feet under as nothing but dust. “They just brought in a little shit. I’m here to have him released.”
“Excuse me, but do you have a name for the little shit and some identification,” he mutters, uninterested in my request or me wasting his time.
“Never mind. You’re useless, Officer Fields.” That gets his fucking attention.
His mouth falls open, and he mutters, “Hell, no. What the hell are you doing here?”
I take out my cell and call my contacts in the department. I stare at Fields and say, “Looks like they found you a new position. That’s interesting.” Something doesn’t sit well with me. Of all the cops in the city, I run into this asshole again. When I received the ticket, I’d been on the south side, not here.
“This is my regular station. Maybe you’re the one following me.”
“Don’t try to play games with me, Officer. I’m not that young thing you’re fooling around with. You won’t win.”
“How…”
“Don’t worry about that.” I smile at the fucker and then get back to what I was doing. I walk off to the side, and my lawyer answers, “Yes, this is Luca. I need to discuss the dropping of charges on a suspect.”
“One of your men?”
“No.” My men wouldn’t be stupid enough to call me.
“Interesting. Give me the information, and I’ll contact the prosecutor to work out a deal.”
Fuck if I know the little bastard’s name. I should have learned his name. What the fuck is wrong with me? “I don’t have that information just yet.”
“Mr. D’Antonio?” a young officer interrupts my call.
“I’ll call you later.” I end the call and then look at the man, wondering if he has something important to say or is a minion of Fields.
