Getting Dumped (12 page)

He hesitated, clearly unsure whether we were friends, enemies, or something in between.

I could relate.

“Maybe you could show me sometime?” he asked. “I’ve got to learn to cook like this.”

“Tell you what,” I said, setting down my wineglass and grabbing a forkful of potatoes. “You agree to quit thinking I’m a spy and I’ll teach you to cook whatever you like.”

At that, Collin’s expression darkened a little. He picked up his wine glass again and took a very long sip. “I had rather forgotten about that,” he admitted, looking down at his plate.

“Well yes, I can see how pork roast might have fogged your brain a bit. Tell me, are you in the habit of breaking bread with people you don’t trust?”

Collin closed his eyes. “JJ, I just want you to know—”

The doorbell chimed, cutting off whatever Collin had been about to say. Seconds later, I heard the screech of tires peeling away from the curb outside.

“What the hell?” I said, standing up and moving toward the door.

“You expecting company?”

“No.”

I peered through the peephole, not seeing anyone outside. “There’s no one here.”

“A package maybe?”

I shook my head and twisted the doorknob, pulling the door open.

At first, I didn’t see anything. Then I spotted the handbag sitting there on my porch, a little wet with rain and very dingy. It was off-white, and someone had spray-painted it with angry orange slashes. I could see the colorful Dooney & Bourke symbols beneath the paint. Some clumsy stitches held the handle in place on one corner. Even from this distance, it was clearly a fake. A very bad one.

“What is it?” Collin called behind me.

“A handbag.”

“Were you expecting one?”

“No, not a delivery,” I said, bending down to pick up the purse. “Someone just left it on my doorstep.”

Probably sensing the alarm in my voice, Collin stood up and joined me at the door.

“There’s a note on it,” he observed, setting his napkin on the edge of the sofa and reaching out to pluck the piece of paper that was pinned to the side. He held it up, studying it with a frown.

“What does it say?” I asked, my voice a little shaky.

“
Dear Bag Lady,
” he read, his British accent giving the words more sophistication than they were probably intended to have. “
Back off, bitch, or you’re next.
What in the bloody hell?”

My palms had started to sweat and my hands were shaking a little, which was ridiculous. I was safe inside my home with a lovely dinner on the table and a well-groomed Englishman beside me.

I looked out into the empty, rain-soaked street and shivered.

Collin reached past me and shoved the door shut. “JJ?”

I stared at the bag. The zipper was only halfway closed.

“There’s something inside,” I said, hating how quivery my voice sounded. I set the bag down on the arm of my couch. We both stared down at it for a moment, neither of us saying a word. Then I reached down and slowly drew the zipper back.

“Oh God,” I said, and staggered back into Collin.

“What is it?” Collin caught me by the shoulders as I reached all the way into the handbag.

“It’s a zipper pull,” I said, wrapping my fingers around the tiny, tasseled leather figure. I pulled it out, holding it up for Collin to see.

“It looks a bit like a mouse,” he observed. “With a noose around its neck.”

“It’s supposed to,” I said, swallowing hard. “I mean the noose isn’t supposed to be there, but it’s meant to look like a mouse. It attaches to the zipper of a handbag to give it a little more personality.”

He stared at it. “How do you know that’s what it is?”

“Because my sister made it.”

Collin was frowning in earnest now. I tightened my grip on the zipper pull.

“My sister is a handbag designer,” I explained. “This is just something extra she makes and sells in her shop. A way for women to accessorize their bags, make them unique. These little animals, they’re a line she created recently. No two are alike. She uses high-end leather remnants and little beads for the eyes, and her customers have been going nuts for them.”

“I see,” Collin said, though I wasn’t sure he did.

“I have to call Lori,” I said. “Maybe someone bought this from her or maybe—”

My phone rang, cutting off my train of thought. I knew without even looking at the caller ID who it would be.

“Lori?” I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

“You’ll never guess what some asshole just dropped on my porch,” she shrieked.

“A fake handbag with a mouse that has a noose around its neck.”

Lori was silent a moment. “A zebra, actually. You got the mouse?”

“Yup.”

Neither of us said anything for a few beats. Lori spoke first, her voice sounding exactly like it used to when she was seven and wanted to crawl in bed with me during a thunderstorm. “Can I come over?”

“I’ll get the gin out.”

I clicked off the phone and looked up at Collin. He stood holding the handbag, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to hug me or go chase the bad guy. He set it down on my end table and frowned at me.

“Are you okay?”

“My sister got the same thing. Someone must know we went to the police, that I’ve been looking into this situation with the fake bags.”

Collin sat down on the edge of the sofa and touched my hand. I hadn’t even realized I was shivering until I felt his warmth seep through my fingers.

“I’m sorry if I’m being a bit dense, but why would someone give you an ugly purse and an ugl— um, a very stylish mouse thing?”

“I’m not sure,” I said slowly. “Obviously I’m nosing around somewhere I’m not wanted.”

“You said you went to the police. Is there someone you can phone there?”

“Good idea,” I said, standing up and moving toward the closet. “I was carrying my orange and white Elaine Turner clutch on Saturday, so I know I’ve got Officer Frank’s business card here somewhere—”

I was down on my knees, rifling through the closet, when the doorbell rang again.

“That’s my sister,” I called. Collin had come over to stand beside me. “Can you let her in?”

“She must live close,” he said, moving toward the door.

“Just a few blocks away, actually. We bought our houses at the same time.”

Collin pulled the door open just as I stood up with the little orange and white clutch in my hand.

“Oh,” said Lori from the doorway, her pixie features fixed in delighted surprise when she saw Collin. “Oh my.”

“Hullo,” Collin replied, sounding just like Hugh Grant.

“Lori, this is Collin,” I said, approaching the door. “From the landfill? The science guy?”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Collin said, extending his hand.

“Likewise,” Lori said, smiling up at him. “Great accent.”

“Thank you. May I take your coat?”

Lori shrugged off her jacket and looked at me. “What, you hired yourself a British butler?”

“Very funny,” I said, taking her jacket from Collin and returning to the coat closet to hang it up. “So tell me what happened.”

“Well, I was just sitting there watching
Bionic Cyber Cops in Monster Trucks
when my doorbell rang, and—”

“You found a copy of
Bionic Cyber Cops in Monster Trucks
?”

“Did I forget to tell you that? The guy who owns the skateboard shop around the corner came over the other day, and I was telling him about Pete and the movie, and he was totally stoked since it’s his favorite film, and he just happened to have a copy that he loaned me just this morning, so—”

“What did you think of it?”

“Well, I only saw the first couple minutes, but—”

“Um, ladies,” Collin said, stepping into the narrow space between us. “So sorry to interrupt, but do you think perhaps we should ring the police?”

“Oh,” Lori said, looking flustered as she glanced up at him. “Right. So the doorbell rang, and I couldn’t find the remote because I was sitting on it, so I had to go to the TV to hit pause, and by the time I got to the door, there was no one there.”

“You didn’t see a car or anything?” I asked.

“Nothing. Just this bag sitting there on the porch, looking ugly and wet and so obviously fake.” She held up a Louis Vuitton that was even more hideously phony than the one I’d gotten. Hers was spray painted too, this one with ugly yellow streaks.

“What about the zipper thing?” Collin demanded. “The wee animal?”

“Yes, of course. It came from my shop, as JJ probably told you. Honestly, I never even realized any of them had gone missing. There’s that little basket up front where I have them, and I don’t keep track of every single one.”

I swallowed, hating the thought of someone just waltzing into my sister’s shop and taking something she’d worked hard to create. “When was the last time you took inventory?”

“Oh, weeks ago. The beginning of the month.”

“And no one came in and bought one of these?”

“Sure, but not the mouse or the zebra. I sold the peacock a couple weeks ago, an alligator last Monday, and a monkey just the other day, but not these two.”

“Does anyone else work in your shop?” Collin asked.

“Just my intern, Macy.”

“Could she have taken them?”

Lori and I both shook our heads. “There’s no reason she would have,” Lori answered.

I held up Officer Frank’s business card. “Why don’t I call the cops and you try Macy again? Maybe she’s home now. Maybe she even got one of these, too.”

“Good idea,” Lori said. Still holding the zebra in one hand, she grabbed her cell phone with the other and hit a single speed dial number. She began frowning almost at once.

“Straight to voicemail,” she muttered, switching her phone off and setting it on the coffee table. I watched her walk around the sofa and plunk down beside Blue Cat as Officer Frank’s phone began ringing in my ear.

“So, Collin.” Lori‘s voice sounded a little strained with the effort of making small talk in spite of her worry. “What brings you here this evening?”

“I offered to inspect JJ’s shower for mold, and she offered me pork roast.”

“Sounds like a fair trade,” Lori said. “Either that, or the filthiest sexual euphemism I’ve ever heard.”

“No answer,” I said, clicking off the phone. “And I don’t know that I want to leave a message. What am I going to say?
Hey, it’s me, the crazy handbag lady. Just wanted to let you know someone brought me a fake Dooney with a suicidal rodent inside.
”

“You think he’s suicidal?” Lori asked. “I figured it was more like a lynching.” She held the zebra in her palm and frowned down at it. “Hey, did you notice this?”

“What?” I asked joining her on the couch.

“I thought it was just a noose, but doesn’t it look kind of like a little Gucci scarf?”

I looked at it. “Maybe.” I grabbed my mouse off the end table and stared at that. “This one sort of does, too. If you look really close, you can see the logo pattern. Is this silk?”

I held it out to her but Lori’s expression had gone cold. “What?” I asked, feeling the hair on my arms prickle a little.

“Macy was wearing a silk Gucci scarf when I saw her last.”

I looked down at the mouse again. “The note. It says ‘or you’re next.’ I thought it was just a reference to the noose, but what if it’s a reference to Macy?”

Lori and I stared at each other for a moment, neither of us speaking. Finally, Collin reached out and took both animals. He studied them carefully, his amber-flecked eyes missing nothing.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what a Gucci scarf is, but this just looks like a noose to me.”

Lori blinked at him. “I don’t know which is worse.”

Collin set the animals back on the end table and looked at me. “Do you have any notion who might want to give you a bit of a scare?”

I thought about it as I stood up and walked toward the kitchen. I pulled out another plate, napkin, and silverware so Lori could join us for dinner. Tucking the gin bottle under my arm, I maneuvered past Lori, who was looking fretful as she rummaged in my fridge for tonic and lime.

When we were all three seated at the table with Lori nibbling tensely at her pork roast, I looked up at Collin.

“I really don’t have a clue who’d do something like this,” I said. “I don’t have any enemies that I know of, and I don’t know anyone who’d play a prank so— so—”

“Weird?” Lori supplied.

“Weird,” I agreed.

We were all quiet for a moment, the silence punctuated only by the sounds of chewing and clinking silverware. Finally, Lori cleared her throat.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

I looked up at her. “We’re not talking about anything.”

“Right, so it’s easy to change the subject,” she said. “Let’s talk about something besides the creepy handbag thing. Something not so scary.”

“Like quantum physics and the mathematical description of the wave-particle duality of matter and energy?” Collin suggested.

We both stared at him.

“Okay,” Lori said. “Or how about boys? Adam sent lilies to the shop yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“I haven’t called to thank him,” Lori continued. “I doubt I will.”

I turned to Collin, who was eyeing my sister with a quizzical look. “Her ex. From high school. She says she’s over him and hates his guts, but it’s obvious that’s not the case.”

“It’s not that simple,” she said, spooning up another big mound of potatoes. “I’m not sure I could ever trust a guy who’d say such hurtful things and behave like such a jerk. Even if it was seven years ago, or seventeen years ago, or seven hundred—”

“What did the dumb bloke do?” Collin reached over to refill my wine glass, then his own.

“Long story,” I said, eyeing Lori in hopes that she’d give him the abbreviated version. “Bottom line, Lori still cares about him, even though she’s pretending not to.”

“It’s not that simple, and it’s not such a long story,” Lori said, pouring herself another splash of gin. “Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they go to senior prom and lose their virginity in dad’s 1971 Triumph Spitfire, they pledge their undying love for one another on the eve of high school graduation, and then,” Lori said, taking a gulp of her drink as she built to a crescendo, “boy dumps girl because she recognizes that it’s more important to pursue her dreams than to conform to some arrogant bastard’s prescribed formula for higher education and personal worth. So boy gets mad and sleeps with girl’s best friend.”