Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (14 page)

He chuckles, then gives her one of his genuine smiles. “Catnip.”

Lindsay giggles, and she can hardly believe the sound. She’s most certainly never been a giggler.

They’re alone and he pushes her against the hallway’s long wall. The sound of a distant television show broadcasting in German drifts out. There’s a lingering smell from someone’s evening meal. All she can think about is Giovanni. The anticipation of having him again is taking her breath away.

He reaches behind and lifts her as if she weighs nothing. She’s a tall girl, and there’s not a lot of guys who can lift her so easily. She wraps her legs around his hips, moaning softly when he buries his face in her neck.

His mouth moves back to hers and they kiss passionately, clutching each other. He tastes delicious. His hands grip her ass, and she feels all of him, hard and ready, pressing at her center. Her breath catches as she remembers all those vibrator fantasies.

The real thing is so much better
.

He draws back and eases her down, his face flushed. “Let’s go inside,” he urges.

She nods. They’re next to her door and she starts fumbling through her purse, searching for her keys.

“Hey, wait.” He grows still, on alert.

She looks up. “What is it?”

“Something’s wrong. Don’t move.”

Lindsay turns and sees what he’s talking about. Her front door isn’t closed all the way.

She sucks in her breath. “I locked that!”

“You did.” He’s still staring at it, but then turns to her. “Stay here.”

Before she can say another word, Giovanni has pushed her front door open and gone inside her studio.

She waits for a moment, panic rocketing through her when she realizes what’s happening.

My money!

She rushes through the door and sees him standing in the center of her studio.

“Whoever they are, they’re gone now.” He turns to her, his eyes stricken. “Goddamn, Lindsay, I don’t know what to say.”

Her jaw drops when she sees how her entire studio has been ransacked. Immediately, she rushes over to the bag of clay where she hid part of her bankroll.

“Oh, no!” she moans. The bag has been torn apart. There’s clay everywhere, and it’s clear the money is gone. “I can’t believe this!”

He strides over and stands next to her with his phone out. “I’m calling the police.”

She rushes to her second hiding place behind the radiator. She shoves her hand behind it, but of course there’s nothing there. “It’s gone too!”

He’s talking into his phone, though she’s too upset to pay attention. “What’s your address?” he asks her.

She frantically goes to each hiding place. They’ve all been found, except the one under a piece of broken wood flooring in the corner, which still has a thousand euro.

It’s after that she freaks out even more because she notices her masks. The one on her sculpting table is still there, but the ones on the wall have been knocked to the floor. Broken. “Who would do this?” she cries. “Motherfuckers!”

“I need your address, Lindsay,” Giovanni tells her with clipped command. His operating room voice.

She gives him her address. His expression is tense as he explains what happened to the police on the other end of the line. She realizes there’s nothing they can do about the missing money. Nothing. She can’t even report it stolen to them.

He hangs up. “The police are going to send someone out right away.” She sees the way he’s still taking in everything, the chaos, but when he notices the broken masks, his expression grows hard. “Why would someone do this to you? Do you have enemies?”

She shakes her head. “Not that I know of.” There’ve been a few guys she’s turned down, and there were those marriage proposals she refused. But she doubts any of them would want to rob her and break her sculptures. And that’s when it occurs to her. There
is
one person who would do this.

Werner.

“Are you sure it’s him?” Giovanni asks, his jaw clenching.

Lindsay nods. “It has to be. That’s why the rat wanted to come here and apologize to me last night.” She looks at Giovanni. “He’s never been here before. Ever. Now all of a sudden, he shows up and my money is stolen? My place is robbed?”

“Wait a minute, what money?” He considers her. “Poker winnings?”

“Yes, and you can’t mention it to the police.” She has no idea what the law is in Germany regarding gambling winnings.

“How much was there?”

Lindsay opens her mouth but then hesitates.

“Tell me the truth. How much?”

She turns to him, her throat tight. “Twenty thousand.”

His eyes widen taking this in. “Are you serious?” But then he frowns. “And you kept it all
here?
”

“I didn’t know what else to do with it. I didn’t want to put it in the bank because then I’d have to report it.”

“You can’t keep that kind of money lying around!”

“It wasn’t lying around. It was
hidden
.”

He shakes his head. “That’s crazy. You should have put it in the bank anyway.”

“Please, stop giving me shit, okay? I was just robbed and vandalized!” She waves her arms around. “Look at this place!”

He goes quiet, steps closer, and reaches for her. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She lets him pull her in, closing her eyes as he hugs her, allowing herself to be comforted for a moment.

When they pull apart, Giovanni studies her. “I still can’t believe you won twenty grand playing poker.”

“Well, I did.”

“Christ, I had no idea you were that good.”

She tries to think of some wisecrack remark but fails. Her stomach hurts. She wants to cry, but she’s too furious. Yes, she won that money playing cards, but she worked hard for it. She was at that casino every night, analyzing each hand, improving her game.

And now it’s all gone.

Those winnings were going to pay for her classes in the fall. They’d help her find a new apartment and get herself settled back home. And now it’s over, her dream killed before it even had a chance to take flight.

Two police arrive. A man and a woman, both very polite and officious, as they look around her studio. They ask her a lot of questions in their heavy accents. She shows them her passport, which she luckily always keeps with her. She tells them her suspicions about Werner, but doesn’t mention the money, only tells them she had some cash here—a couple thousand euros. They ask Giovanni questions too, want to see his passport as well. To his credit, he doesn’t mention the money either.

The police tell her they’ll open a case file on it and ask around with her neighbors to see if anyone saw anything. They take down her cell number.

Once they’ve left, Lindsay starts picking up all the pieces of broken clay. At least she only had two masks here, three if you count the one she was working on. She gets a broom, but then puts it down and sits in the wooden chair next to her sculpting table, surveying the mess. There’s a lump in the back of her throat, making it difficult to swallow. Her instincts had been right about Werner when she wedged that piece of wood in her door last night, only she didn’t realize it was her money he was after.
I should have known. How could I be so stupid?
She looks up at Giovanni. “I have to go find that bastard.”

He’s leaning against the back table, contemplating one of her broken masks.

“I have to get my money back,” she tells him.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

She grits her teeth as she imagines getting her hands on the rat. “Squeeze his nuts until he screams and tells me where it is.” She looks up at him. “Listen, you don’t have to come with me. I understand if you don’t want to get involved in any of this.”

A grin pulls on the corner of his mouth. “It’s never a dull moment with you, is it?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask to get robbed! But I can’t just sit here when I know very well who fucking did it.”

“I know. That’s not what I’m talking about.” He moves closer and puts his hand out to help her up. “Come on, let’s go find that scumbag.”

They take another taxi while she tries Dagmar’s number. “She’s probably playing cards,” she says. “We turn our phones off when we’re at the tables.”

He doesn’t say anything, only watches her as she makes more phone calls. She has Varik’s number, the pit boss at Spielbank Europa. He gave it to her a while ago. She’s never used it, but she calls him now.

He sounds surprised to hear from her. “What can I do for you?”

“Something’s happened tonight. Are Werner and Dagmar there?”

“Dagmar is here,” he tells her. “I have not seen Werner. What is going on, Lindsay?”

She tells how someone robbed her and wrecked her studio.

He’s quiet for a long moment. “I am very sorry to hear this.”

She explains to him how she’s headed over there now to speak to Dagmar and that she’s already reported it to the police. She senses Varik is hesitant to get involved, which she totally understands.

When Lindsay and Giovanni arrive at Spielbank, they immediately head for the poker floor, keeping an eye out for Werner.

She finds Dagmar playing poker and goes over to stand behind her.

“We need to talk,” she tells her in a low voice.

Dagmar looks over her shoulder and smiles. “I am so glad you came tonight!” She leans closer. “Though I have to admit it has been very slow.”

“Where’s Werner?”

“He is not here.” Dagmar turns back to the table and throws in a twenty-euro chip to call. “Why?”

“Did you get my message?”

“No.” Dagmar looks at her with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone broke into my studio and robbed me. Broke all my masks.”

Dagmar’s eyes widen in shock. “I can’t believe it! When did this happen?”

“Today. I think Werner did it.”

“What are you saying?” Dagmar shakes her head vehemently. “No, he would never do that!”

Lindsay motions over to the side of the room. “I’m here with Giovanni. We’ve already spoken to the police. Come over when you finish this hand.”

Giovanni is at one of the back tables waiting for her, studying his phone. He looks up when Lindsay joins him. “What did she say?”

“She thinks Werner is innocent, of course. She has a blind spot for him.”

He shakes his head. “What exactly does she see in that guy?”

Lindsay chews on her bottom lip. She thinks about how some women don’t want to see the truth about the man they’re involved with. Her own mother was that way.

A few minutes later, Dagmar comes rushing over. “Tell me everything that’s happened!”

Lindsay explains what they found earlier—her place trashed, her money gone, the masks broken.

“I am so sorry!” Dagmar’s face looks especially pained at the mention of the broken sculptures. She reaches out to hold Lindsay’s hand. “Thank God your other masks are at the gallery!”

“Where’s Werner? I need his address.”

Dagmar gives her a reassuring look. “He is not here. He went to stay with his brother in Frankfurt and left this morning. That is why I know he could not have robbed you.”

“You saw him get on a train to Frankfurt?”

“No, but I know he is there. I spoke to him only a couple of hours ago.”

“Where does he live?” Lindsay asks. “I want to see for myself.”

“Werner was kicked out of his apartment two days ago and had to stay with me.” Dagmar’s expression turns sad. “Poor guy, he cannot seem to catch a break, but that is why he has gone to Frankfurt.”

Lindsay stares at Dagmar amazed at her continued faith in Werner. She’ll never understand why some women are so attracted to losers. “Can you call him?”

“Of course! I will call him and you can speak to him yourself.” She pulls her phone out of the small leather purse she carries as Lindsay and Giovanni watch her call the rat. “Werner,
Liebchen
!” She starts talking into her phone in German, but Giovanni interrupts and puts his hand out.

“Give me the phone. I want to speak to him.”

“No!” Lindsay puts her hand out. “Give
me
the phone.” She looks over at him with irritation. “
I’m
the one who got robbed here!”

“Yes, but I’m more intimidating than you are.”

She scoffs. “Says who?”

Dagmar watches them bicker while still talking to Werner. She lowers the phone to her chin. “He says he is sorry you were robbed, but he did not do it.”

“He’s lying. Give me that phone!” Dagmar finally hands it over to her. “Listen to me, you sleazy fuckwad,” Lindsay snarls. “I know what you did, and I want my fucking money back!”

Werner’s smug nasal voice responds. “I am very sorry you feel this way, but you are wrong. I am staying with my brother in Frankfurt, so I could
not
have robbed you.”

“I haven’t told the police about you yet,” she lies. “And if you give me back my money I won’t, but if you don’t, I’m sending them right the fuck to you.”

There’s a pause. “Dagmar told me you had a mercenary beside you during a poker game a couple nights ago. Maybe he is the one who robbed you.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“It sounds plausible to me.”

Lindsay’s fury takes over. “You lying piece of shit! You slimy rat fuck-stain! Urine gargling, cocksucking, motherfuck—”