She glanced at her watch. Half an hour. She could start shutting things down. She hadn’t had a customer in the last half hour. She was so lucky. The day had been crazy, with people streaming in steadily. Good for business. Over the last couple of weeks, she felt they were doing very well. Steady, returning customers. That, more than anything else, was what they needed to count on. She was getting a feel for what was needed. Many of those coming in had suggestions, and she took note of them so she could order and keep the right supplies on hand.
A bright pink Cadillac pulled up to the curb with a screech of brakes, jumped it and bumped off with a loud grating noise. Zara recognized the car immediately. It was Lizz Johnson’s pride and joy. She made a show of driving it slowly up and down the main street of Sea Haven at least twice a week. She always drove it to Anat’s house but called ahead to ensure she could park her beloved vehicle either right out front, where everyone could admire it, or in the driveway of the garage.
Francine, Lizz’s granddaughter, leapt out of the driver’s seat, doubled over with laughter. She slammed the door hard and came around the hood, still laughing, covering her mouth and shaking her head. She wore a tight skirt that molded to her slim hips and a low-cut blouse that framed her thin rib cage and showcased her set of breasts nicely. Her boots were knee-high, soft leather, a light tan, and worth a fortune. Zyah recognized the brand. Lizz definitely indulged her granddaughter in everything from clothes and shoes to jewelry and even allowing her to drive without her license. As she approached the door to the grocery store, she staggered for just a couple of steps, then recovered her balance, phone in hand, laughing as if it were funny. Clutching her purse, Francine made her way into the store.
“Zyah. Just the girl I’m looking for.”
Princess to peasant. That was Francine, and no one was around to catch her act. She was that genuine. She really did think of herself as superior because Lizz had a fortune.
“Nice to see you, Francine. I see you have your license back. Congratulations. Mama Anat will be so happy for you. She was worried about how you would get around when the rains came.”
Francine frowned and waved that subject off dismissively. Her driver’s license was clearly of no consequence.
“I thought I’d take you to dinner tonight. I felt so bad that I went off with that loser biker. I shouldn’t have done that without at least texting you and giving you the heads-up.” Francine smiled, her white teeth dazzling against her red lipstick. She came closer to the counter so she could lean against it.
“I love your boots,” Zyah said, not wanting to answer immediately. Francine’s good moods could turn on a dime if she was thwarted in her plans, and Zyah had no intention of going to dinner with her. “They’re absolutely gorgeous.” Francine was very vain when it came to clothes, shoes, jewelry and even makeup.
Francine looked down at her boots, stuck the right one out to admire the soft leather and smirked at Zyah. “They’re so comfortable too. I love everything Jimmy Choooo.” She drew out the last name and then tossed her head laughing, bringing deliberate attention to her earrings and necklace.
Zyah’s gaze was immediately riveted to the glittering star at Francine’s throat. It was an amazing blue diamond and very, very real, as were the stars at her ears. That was part of Lizz’s galaxy collection. Anat had told her about it and spoken of it in low tones, afraid of being overheard. What was Francine doing wearing a piece like that in public when there were known robbers preying on the elderly? Was she so selfish she would risk her grandmother to show off? Zyah was beginning to fear she would.
“You’re wearing your grandmother’s blue diamonds. I thought she kept those locked up in a safe at the bank.”
Francine stuck her hip out. “I talked her into letting me wear them to the charity ball next month. I told her I had to try a couple of pieces with different outfits to see what would go best. It’s such a shame to have such beautiful jewelry and then keep it in a vault somewhere and never even see it.”
Zyah lowered her voice and looked around, although she knew the store was empty. She just wanted Francine to think she was entering into some kind of conspiracy with her. “Aren’t you afraid those thieves might target you and your grandmother?”
Francine scowled. “I have a gun. I always carry a gun. Do you want to see it? You would never suspect I have one on me.” Her body swayed, and she gripped the edge of the counter to keep from falling. Before Zyah could answer, she leaned closer, giggling. “You should carry a gun, Zyah. Someday you’re going to need it.” That made her laugh hysterically. She pulled her shirt up to show the tight band around her waist that had the gun holster with the gun fitted to her. “If anyone tries to take me in, I’ll just shoot ’em.”