Shakedown (Diamond and Diamond Private Investigators 1) - Page 1

Chapter One

Mike Diamond took a tentative sip of his coffee and then winced as it scorched his mouth. He blew gently at the hot liquid and then cursed when it sloshed onto his hand. It was too damned early for this. It really was.

Being a private detective usually involved a great deal of legwork with very little pay off. Last night, however, that hadn't been the case. He'd been able to successfully locate a runaway and managed to reunite her with her family in the early morning hours. The idiot kid had been sleeping in shelters and eating out of dumpsters in the two months since her boyfriend kicked her out.

He hadn't gotten back from dropping her off until after three in the morning. His eight a.m. alarm had come way too soon. Mike dug through his pocket until he found his keys. He flipped through them, looking for the door, when he heard the unmistakable sound of his secretary Lara saying, “Hang on a minute.”

Seconds later, the door popped open. He gave her his most winning smile and said, “Morning, gorgeous.”

“Jesus, Mikey. You look like crap. Did you even sleep?”

He gave Lara a sour look as he blew some of the steam off of his cup of coffee. Dryly, he said, “Reunited the Moodys with their daughter last night. Ended up driving her out to Bracebridge. Didn't get out of there til real late. Not enough beauty sleep.”

“Where the heck is that?” Lara asked, ignoring the rest of his statement.

He hazarded another quick sip of coffee. “About two hours north of Toronto. Anyway, I got the poor kid a meal and then took her back home. She was thrilled. Parents were thrilled to have her. I'm fuckin' beat though.”

Frowning, Lara opened her mouth to reprimand his language, but before she could speak, he heard his Uncle Rick bellow, “Mike? That you?”

“Oh,” Lara said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I almost forgot. His royal majesty said he wanted to see you when you finally showed up.”

“Why don't you two crazy kids just get a room already,” he asked, grinning as he opened the office door.

“Bite your tongue,” she said just as he closed the door.

“What's up?”

“About time you graced us with your presence, Sunshine.”

Responding with nothing more than a middle finger, Mike slumped down into one of the worn office chairs.

“I heard from Tad Moody this morning. He was thrilled. Good work, kid.”

“I drove her home myself so she couldn't bolt. I didn't sleep til almost four.”

“That explains why you look like shit, then. No time to rest though. I've got another case for you,” Rick said.

Mike shifted and asked, “So what do you have for me?”

The gleam in Rick's eye didn't bode well. The last time he'd seen that look, he'd been wading through the trash behind Mr. Umemoto's Sushi digging for what had turned out to be an untraceable burner cell. If there was one thing he hated it was hot, days old sushi.

“Nope. This isn't a repeat of Mr. Umemoto's, kid. I promise. Much easier, in fact. It's a dog napping.”

Mike blinked at him, then took a long swig of his coffee, wishing it was bourbon. “Seriously? A dog napping? Since when do we take on shit like that?”

“Look,” Rick said, leveling with him. “An old friend of mine sent this woman my way. I owed a favor. Besides, that dog makes more a year than you do.”

Raising an eyebrow, Mike asked, “How do you figure?”

“It's one of those prissy little show dogs. Pulled in like 100K last year. Don't ask me why people pay yapping little dogs five thousand a pop to run around a ring. Have you seen those shows? They hold the dogs by their neck and their tails. It's inhumane.”

“Not really my thing,” Mike said. “Didn't realize it was yours, either. Maybe it's an old people thing. I'll letcha know in another fifteen years. In the meantime, since it's your favor, why don't you handle it?”

“Cause it'll be good for you, ya smart ass,” Rick groused. “Besides, low man on the totem pole and all that.”

“Fuck me,” he complained. “So what's the deal? Is this lady sure the dog didn't just run away from home?”

“No clue. From what I've been told, apparently she just went through a messy divorce. They went to court and battled it out over everything. She apparently cleaned him out. Took almost everything.”

“Poor bastard.” He sympathized.

“Not so fast. Carla didn't outright say it, but I get the impression he might have gotten a little too physical,” Rick said.

Mike's blood ran cold. There were many, many flaws he found himself able to overlook. Hitting women wasn't one of them. “Piece of shit,” he muttered. “What about the cops? She call them in?”

“Apparently they weren't all that quick to issue a search warrant for a dog. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” He groaned. “You're really gonna make me investigate a dog-napping? I'm a trained professional, man. Come on!”

“Well,” Rick reasoned. “Shouldn't take you long to crack the case then. Go on. I got shit to do. She's probably waiting for you already.”

“Carry on, then,” he said, dryly. Picking himself up out of the chair, he added, “You're gonna owe me after this. No more cheating spouses for a while, at least?”

“There's no telling, kid. Low man on the totem pole and all,” Rick said, his grin wholly unrepentant.

With one last baleful glace, Mike left the office. He was relieved to find the lobby was empty, so he stopped back at Lara's desk and asked, “Can you believe that shit? A dog napping?”

He didn't think for a minute she hadn't overheard every word. That woman was like the KGB and Secret Service all in one. Anything happened in this office, she had it under immediate surveillance.

Lara cuffed him on the arm and said, “She's in the bathroom, idiot.”

Mike winced, feeling bad he'd probably been overheard. But, seriously, who hired a PI to find a lost dog?

Seconds later, the bathroom door slowly opened. He almost did a double take as the woman stepped out. Aside from red eyes that had clearly been crying, she was a looker.

She was elegantly dressed and somewhere near his age, with a riot of auburn curls trailing down her back, like some sort of mermaid siren. All ripe, lush curves. He'd always liked his women soft.

And, he was ogling this obviously distraught woman like she was a steak. Not that he wouldn't be more than interested in taking a bite, but it was clear that now wasn't the time. So instead of voicing his thoughts, he stuck his hand out and said, “Mike Diamond. And you are?”

Tags: Michelle Roth Diamond and Diamond Private Investigators Mystery
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