“In prison?”
“I’m in jail, not prison. Big difference.”
Angelina scowled. “I don’t care if you’re in the pokey, you’ve got my dog. My baby won’t survive in the Big House. She’s a gentle princess. Those prison mutts will eat her alive.”
She heard Charlotte snort a little laugh.
“They threw me in here while they’re waiting for the local sheriff, but I think it might be helpful for me to have a local advocate to vouch for me—”
“Got it, I’m on my way. Don’t let anyone turn Harley into their bitch.”
Angelina hung up and stood from the chair beside Mick’s bed. She planted a kiss on his forehead and rubbed the resulting red-lipstick imprint from his skin with her thumb.
“I have to go keep your granddaughter out of prison. Seems your apples land very close to your tree.”
***
Angelina drove to the police station and walked to the reception desk. She’d been hoping the regular girl would be there, but she didn’t recognize the woman behind the desk.
“I’m here to bail out a little dog.”
The woman stared at her, nonplussed. “Just the dog?”
“Maybe.”
The woman chuckled. “Well, she doesn’t need bailing out. Probably. Palm Beach County sheriff is coming to talk to her and we were out of waiting rooms.”
“Really?”
The woman leaned forward and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “No. I just thought it would be funny to put her and her dog in the lockup.”
Angelina laughed and glanced at the woman’s name tag. “I like your style, Loretta.”
The woman beamed. “Thank you.”
“But that’s my dog.”
“Oh.” Loretta sighed, her large bosom rising and lowering like a pair of bobbing buoys. “I guess I can let the dog out on good behavior.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“The dog?”
“Ha. I see what you did there. The girl.”
“Sure.”
Loretta came around the desk and led Angelina to a pair of cells in the back of the building. Charlotte sat on a bench with Harley tucked under her arm, staring at the ground and stroking the dog with her fingers. She looked up at the sound of their approach.
Loretta opened the door without unlocking it, and Angelina cocked an eyebrow at Charlotte.
“It isn’t even locked.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Harley,” said Angelina, throwing out her hands. Charlotte stood and handed the dog to her.
“This is so embarrassing,” said Angelina, taking the dog. “You didn’t let her paws touch that dirty floor, did you?”
“That floor is not dirty,” mumbled Loretta.
Angelina turned and winked to show she was only kidding. She could tell Loretta was an asset she wanted to keep.
“She’s been in my lap the whole time,” said Charlotte.
Angelina held Harley in the air, dropping her nose to ping against her own. “Oh my little jailbird. Are you okay? Did mean Aunt Charlotte get you thrown in the clinker?”
Charlotte grimaced. “Why, yes, I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
A man with a mustache entered the area from the same door through which Angelina had passed.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked.
“Buck!” exclaimed Angelina, as if her long lost lover had returned from war.
Loretta headed out of the room.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Angelina.”
“You too, Loretta.”
Angelina followed in her wake until she reached Buck. She threw one arm around him and hugged him sideways to keep Harley from being crushed between them.
“What are you doing back in here?” he asked. “I thought you cleaned up your act.”
“Never,” she said, playfully poking him in the side.
She turned her head back toward Charlotte and flashed a grin.
I got you, girl.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Declan heard Bob clear his throat before the man spoke. He closed his eyes to give himself strength.
“Hey, Declan, watcha doin’ up there?”
Declan peered down at Bob’s upturned face. The rest of him was hidden by the slant of the roof on which Declan perched. He’d climbed up there hoping to fix Charlotte’s leak and be back at his pawn shop by ten. No one had ever accused him of being a handyman, so his even greater wish had been to finish before the old guys in Charlotte’s neighborhood noticed him.
He hadn’t been on the roof for more than five minutes before the first old shark smelled blood and puttered over to offer advice.
Declan made a conscious effort to unclench his jaw and skootched a little lower on the roofline to get a better view of his audience. “Hi, Bob. You’re up early.”
“Not really.”
Declan chuckled. “I guess I should say you’re out early.”
Bob shrugged. “If that makes you happier. Whatcha doin’ up there?”
“Charlotte had a leak in her roof right before she left. I thought I’d fix it for her before she got back.”
“Oh yeah? Do a lot of roof fixin’, do ya?”
“No. Not roofs specifically...but I figured, how hard could it be?”
Bob grunted.
Declan waited a moment to see if Bob would continue peppering him with questions. When he didn’t, he clambered back to the spot above Charlotte’s bedroom. She’d said the drip hit her in the face while she was sleeping, so the trouble had to be somewhere in that area.
He peeled back a few shingles, but nothing screamed leak at him. He’d been hoping to find a gaping hole with a little sign next to it that said, “Fix me.”
After his initial inspection, Declan turned to see if Bob remained below.
He did.
Bob remained in much the same position as before, except his face now tilted toward his watch. As if he felt eyes, he looked back up before Declan could scurry away.
“Doin’ it this morning, huh?” asked Bob.
Declan nodded. “Yep. I don’t know how long she’ll be gone. She might be back today.”
“Huh.”
The silence deepened
