Unauthorized Affair (Unauthorized #1)(18)

Ivy eyed her. “Lots of reasons. Why do you want to be a cop?” she asked Jen, a bit of a hostile challenge in her voice. Jen heard it immediately and knew she’d caused it.

“Sorry, Ivy, I didn't mean to offend you. I just really like this look. It suits you.”

Ivy softened. “That’s OK. Thanks.” And Jen felt something bloom between them. The start of a friendship. She felt like hugging Ivy but she held back. Ivy looked too tough for a hug. A phone rang behind them. She turned and looked. It was the bat phone - the phone that, if it rang, meant Sgt. Foley or Sgt. Sadler wanted to talk to them. She ran to it and picked it up. “Hello?”

It was Sgt. Foley. “Tell Ivy she looks great.” Jen felt a small twinge of something in her chest. Jealousy? Uh-uh, no way. “Since you guys are all there you can turn on the sign and unlock the door. Stow your binders in the locked cabinet in the back first. Oh, and tell Ryker to close his mouth.” A soft click sounded in Jen’s ear. She put the phone down and turned to look at Ryker. He was still openly staring at Ivy, and his mouth was open even wider. Jen could almost see the cartoon hearts pulsing in his eyes. She had to laugh, since he was easily more than a foot taller than Ivy, and he probably weighed 150 pounds more than her. That would be one relationship where the woman would always have to be on top. Jen poked Ryker in the side and whispered, “Close your mouth, Romeo, you’re catching flies.” Ryker came around slowly, a little dazed, and then hastily looked down at the counter. Jen giggled again. This was going to be fun.

“Sgt. Foley says we should lock up our binders and unlock the door.” She took a deep breath, her heart beating frantically in her chest. “Everybody ready? Cuz I’m not.”



***





Six boring hours later Jen wanted to tear her hair out. They’d had only one customer. An older man who came in looking for something called a flintlock pistol. She could see people passing by on the sidewalk out front, but nobody came in the door. She dropped her head on her hands and sighed.

The bell over the door sounded and she jerked her head up, happy to have something to do. But this was no older gentleman seeking collectibles. Adrenaline dumped into her bloodstream. They had their first criminal. She glanced to her left and saw Ryker stand up. Good. The man who came in wore jeans, torn-up, white sneakers, and a dirty white t-shirt with a jean jacket over it. Kind of hot for a jacket, Jen thought. His scraggly hair hung in his eyes. His face was covered with red sores that made Jen wince. His head moved in small, quick jerks that reminded Jen of a chicken. His eyes jumped around the room faster than they had any right to move. Meth-head, she thought. “Tweaker”, Ivy whispered next to her.


He jerked forward three steps, then sideways a step, then all the way to the counter, straight in front of Jen. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

He reached inside his jacket and Jen tensed, hoping a knife or a gun wasn’t about to come out. Instead his hand emerged with a handful of gold jewelry. Jen blew out her breath. Sgt. Foley’s voice spoke up in her head. Buy it all, he said. But only at market prices. We authorize you to go 10% over market prices on anything, but unless one of us calls you, you can’t go anymore than 10% over.

“I want to pawn this,” the tweaker said, his voice squeaky, like a door hinge in need of oil.

“All of it?” Jen asked.

The tweaker nodded so violently that his head almost hit the counter.

Jen backed up, her eyes wide. She pushed herself forward again, gathering up his jewelry. It felt dirty to her, which she knew was in her head, but she couldn’t help it. The man was a walking, talking, disgusting mess. She took the items to the back counter and weighed them, examined the stones, and looked them up in the computer. She heard him behind her clucking his tongue and shuffling his feet.

She added up all their values and returned to him with a number. “We can give you $182.00 for it.”

At first she didn’t think he had heard her. He stared straight at her, his head lowered and his eyeballs jerking slightly in their sockets. Then he clenched both hands into fists and slammed them on the counter. “Bullshit! That’s worth way more!” he screamed into her face, flecks of spittle flying from his lips.

Jen pulled back, not wanting any of his nasty spit to land on her. Not even wanting his breath to blow in her face. A thick thought ran through her head. Why am I doing this again? She pushed it away and tried to gather her composure. Ivy wedged right in next to her. “Calm down, sir,” Ivy said in an authoritarian voice. “Since you’re such a good customer we will offer you $200 even. Take it or leave it.” She pushed the necklaces and earrings back towards him quickly and motioned towards them with her hands.

At this speech, the man swung his jerky eyeballs towards Ivy. “Fuck that, bitch, you know them necklaces worth 10 times that.”

Jen saw Ryker appear as if out of nowhere at the word bitch. And by the time the guy spit out the last word of his lightning-fast sentence, Ryker had had a large hand on his shoulder. Heavily on his shoulder, Jen noted, seeing the way the guy’s shoulder sagged and his face pinched in pain.

“It’s time for you to go,” Ryker said, his words drawn out, but menacing.

The tweaker turned toward Ryker and howled in indignation. He windmilled his right arm wildly to try to push Ryker off. His left hand snuck out and grabbed his pile of jewelry. He backpedaled and almost fell on his behind but Ryker grabbed him by his dirty jacket and propelled him to the door, pushing him out of it, then watching him slink away.