Read Online V Is for Vengeance by Sue Grafton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sue Grafton
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held up a finger, and then retired to the back room. She returned moments later with a padded tray covered in black velvet.
“This is June,” he said of her and then nodded at me. “Kinsey Millhone. She’s a private detective.”
We shook hands. “Nice meeting you,” I said.
“Same here.”
Pinky watched as she untied a ribbon and opened two cloth flaps. In the center was the ring, which to me looked small and unremarkable. Then again, Pinky never claimed it was a family heirloom, at least not in his family. The diamond was the size of a wee rhinestone stud, not that I owned anything so grand.
He smiled at me shyly. “You want to try it on?”
“Sure.” I slipped it on my finger and held it to the light, turning it this way and that. “Gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” I said, practicing my lying skills.
Shortly after that we got down to business. I handed over the $225 in cash while the two of them dealt with the paperwork.
Afterward I drove Pinky to the car-repair shop, which was six blocks away. As I pulled over to the curb, I peered past him through the passenger-side window. There was no sign of activity. The doors to the service bays were down and the office was dark. “Are you sure someone’s there?”
“Doesn’t look like it, does it? I must have misunderstood.”
“You want me to drop you off at your place?”
“No need. I’m up on Paseo. It’s an easy walk.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s right on my way.”
I drove eight blocks north on Chapel until I reached Paseo, where I hung a left. He pointed to a dark gray frame duplex and I slowed to a stop. There was no room to park so he got out while the engine idled. He closed the car door and waved me on. I wiggled my fingers at him in the rearview mirror by way of a farewell, though he was gone by then.
I returned to the office, where I donned a pair of rubber gloves and gave the premises a thorough going-over. Then I went back to my place and started a load of laundry. As a youngster, I was taught that Saturday was for chores and you couldn’t go out to play until your room was clean. The critical lessons in life hold sway whether you like it or not.
At 5:30, I put on my windbreaker, slid my paperback novel down in my shoulder bag, locked the studio, and walked the half block to Rosie’s. Another woman approached the entrance at the same time I did and we reached for the door simultaneously. When our eyes met, I pointed at her. “You’re Claudia.”
She smiled. “And you’re Kinsey Millhone. Twelve pairs of size small high-cut briefs.”
“I can’t believe you remembered.”
“You were just in yesterday.”
I held the door, allowing her to pass in front of me. Her hair was coal black, shiny, and carelessly arranged. Her eyes were bright brown and her gaze was direct. She was probably in her late forties and stylishly put together. She wore a two-button designer jacket, well-cut slacks, and a crisp white shirt. Working for Nordstrom’s gave her access to the latest fashions, as well as an employee discount.
I said, “You must live close by. I can’t think why else you’d frequent the place.”
She smiled. “Actually, we live on the upper east side. Drew’s the manager at the Ocean View Hotel. We meet here on nights when he’s working late and only has a short dinner break. I got off work early and decided to come in and wait for him. What about you?”
“I’m half a block down. I’m here two or three nights a week when I’m too lazy to cook.”
“Same for me. Nights he’s not home, I tend to graze,” she said. “You want to join me for a drink?”
“Sure, I’d like that. I’ve been dying to find out what happened to the shoplifter.”
“I’m glad you were there when Mr. Koslo showed up.”
“Absolutely. I loved every minute of it. What are you drinking?”
“Gin and tonic.”
“I’ll be right back.”
William had seen me come in, and by the time I reached the bar he’d
“This is June,” he said of her and then nodded at me. “Kinsey Millhone. She’s a private detective.”
We shook hands. “Nice meeting you,” I said.
“Same here.”
Pinky watched as she untied a ribbon and opened two cloth flaps. In the center was the ring, which to me looked small and unremarkable. Then again, Pinky never claimed it was a family heirloom, at least not in his family. The diamond was the size of a wee rhinestone stud, not that I owned anything so grand.
He smiled at me shyly. “You want to try it on?”
“Sure.” I slipped it on my finger and held it to the light, turning it this way and that. “Gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” I said, practicing my lying skills.
Shortly after that we got down to business. I handed over the $225 in cash while the two of them dealt with the paperwork.
Afterward I drove Pinky to the car-repair shop, which was six blocks away. As I pulled over to the curb, I peered past him through the passenger-side window. There was no sign of activity. The doors to the service bays were down and the office was dark. “Are you sure someone’s there?”
“Doesn’t look like it, does it? I must have misunderstood.”
“You want me to drop you off at your place?”
“No need. I’m up on Paseo. It’s an easy walk.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s right on my way.”
I drove eight blocks north on Chapel until I reached Paseo, where I hung a left. He pointed to a dark gray frame duplex and I slowed to a stop. There was no room to park so he got out while the engine idled. He closed the car door and waved me on. I wiggled my fingers at him in the rearview mirror by way of a farewell, though he was gone by then.
I returned to the office, where I donned a pair of rubber gloves and gave the premises a thorough going-over. Then I went back to my place and started a load of laundry. As a youngster, I was taught that Saturday was for chores and you couldn’t go out to play until your room was clean. The critical lessons in life hold sway whether you like it or not.
At 5:30, I put on my windbreaker, slid my paperback novel down in my shoulder bag, locked the studio, and walked the half block to Rosie’s. Another woman approached the entrance at the same time I did and we reached for the door simultaneously. When our eyes met, I pointed at her. “You’re Claudia.”
She smiled. “And you’re Kinsey Millhone. Twelve pairs of size small high-cut briefs.”
“I can’t believe you remembered.”
“You were just in yesterday.”
I held the door, allowing her to pass in front of me. Her hair was coal black, shiny, and carelessly arranged. Her eyes were bright brown and her gaze was direct. She was probably in her late forties and stylishly put together. She wore a two-button designer jacket, well-cut slacks, and a crisp white shirt. Working for Nordstrom’s gave her access to the latest fashions, as well as an employee discount.
I said, “You must live close by. I can’t think why else you’d frequent the place.”
She smiled. “Actually, we live on the upper east side. Drew’s the manager at the Ocean View Hotel. We meet here on nights when he’s working late and only has a short dinner break. I got off work early and decided to come in and wait for him. What about you?”
“I’m half a block down. I’m here two or three nights a week when I’m too lazy to cook.”
“Same for me. Nights he’s not home, I tend to graze,” she said. “You want to join me for a drink?”
“Sure, I’d like that. I’ve been dying to find out what happened to the shoplifter.”
“I’m glad you were there when Mr. Koslo showed up.”
“Absolutely. I loved every minute of it. What are you drinking?”
“Gin and tonic.”
“I’ll be right back.”
William had seen me come in, and by the time I reached the bar he’d
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