Page 50 of Average Joe

“You need to leave.” My feet hit the floor.

“What?”

“I’ll find your key. But you need to go.”

“Joe. I don’t care about the—”

Before she finished her sentence, I hoisted the sweet-smelling sack of curves over my shoulder, stomped to the front door, and deposited her on the porch. “Don’t tell a soul about what we found today. Let me get this sorted first.” My intended command sounded more like a desperate plea.

Brows knitted, she whispered, “What’s happening?”

I closed the door, knowing I’d likely ruined any chance of having a relationship beyond friendly with my neighbor. The ache in my chest and knot in my gut forced me to double over. Three deep breaths, then I straightened and headed for my phone.

Bill Kaine had ruined me once. Now he threatened to hurt me from his grave? Fat chance in hell.

Joe

Connor wrenched the nut one more time, then contorted to free himself from the small space under the sink. “There is no possible way Alice was involved.”

“I agree, but how’d that jewelry end up in her cupboards?” For the fourth time, I pulled Ginger out of Con’s way. The nosey little furball, determined to help, grunted when I scooped her off the floor. I deposited her outside the back door, her legs spinning before her paws touched the ground.

Con dropped a glob of soggy shit into my hand and tossed his tools onto the counter.

“What the hell is this?” I shook the muck into the trash.

He ran the faucet to test the drainage and answered over the running water., “Looks like your aunt was shoving her stogies down the drain.”

“Jesus,” I huffed, rinsing my hand. “That woman was nuts. Gold in the teacups, cigars in the sink. What else am I gonna find?”

The front door opened, then closed. Heavy footsteps came our way. Frank entered, dropped folders and a plastic box on the kitchen table, then lowered with a grunt into a chair. “You, my friend, are one lucky bastard.” He scratched his chin, fighting a grin.

He’d taken the stash off my hands over a week ago, convinced, as was I, that the teacup trinkets were of illegal gain.

“Half that haul was from a rash of jewelry store smash-and-grabs from six years back,” he stated.

“Larry and Bill.” My knees buckled under the hefty weight of Kaine absurdity. “Fuck. That would explain why Bill was here that night. Why he and Alice were…” I couldn’t finish the thought. Revisiting those memories would spoil my mood for days.

Frank finished for me. “He wanted to hide the jewelry here, and Alice must’ve fought back.”

“Makes sense,” I mumbled. “But why didn’t Alice turn it in afterward?”

“My guess?” Con piped in. “She was protecting you. Didn’t want you tied to any other crimes involving the Kaine men.”

Nodding, Frank said, “That’d be my guess. And on that note, your dad’s lawyer did a great job keeping your name in the clear.”

Another favor I owed my father. The kicks just kept coming. But thank fuck I’d had my pops on speed dial.

“What about the other half?” Con joined Frank at the table.

Frank laughed, then tapped the plastic box. “This old stuff? Family heirlooms would be my guess. Took the liberty of having a few pieces appraised by an acquaintance of mine.” He leaned forward, elbows to the table, hands clasped, a grin cracking his face. “That ugly pin with the birds who look like they’re mating? That hunk of metal alone could go for over thirty grand at auction, my friend.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Dead serious.”

Fist to his mouth, Con laughed. “Holy shit, dude. There are, what, thirty pieces of jewelry in there?”

“At least.” My legs could no longer hold my weight, and I claimed the chair between my buddies. “This can’t be the treasure Alice hinted about in her letter, can it?”

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