The Necklace

Chapter 8

When I got back to my office Felicia Smythe-Frye was sitting by my desk.

"How did you get in here?"

"I need your help."

I set my client case beside my chair and sat warily watching her for high signs.

"You didn't answer my question. How did you get in?"

"It wasn't locked. Please, Mr. Hart I need your help."

Not locked! I glanced around to see if I noticed anything missing but I couldn't remember everything I had here.

"Help you with what? I got your necklace back, my job is done."

"That's just it . . . we didn't get it back."

"What do you mean, I gave it to James myself?"

"He- he was robbed and the necklace stolen."

Tattoo! Shit. "Who? How . . .?"

"I don't know. Please, Mr. Hart we have to get it back. My father . . ."

"Why not go to the police then? I can't track down random hold up artists." She sniffled and began rummaging through her purse, taking out a small compact. I thought she was going to touch up her makeup but when she dipped her face toward the container I reached across the desk and slapped it out of her hand. "Not in my office, lady."

"No! Oh no!" She looked at the powder all over her skirt and the floor then began crying uncontrollably.

I knew the police wasn't an option and I also knew it was the Druids. They must have followed me then hit James and stolen the necklace back. Problem was, what to do about it. What would happen to my twenty-four hours now?

Felicia was wetting her finger and sopping up what she could from her skirt and rubbing it on her gums. I warned her once more then told her I was taking her home.

"I can't go home!"

"Why, because you're half cut?"

"My father will be there."

"He does know, Felicia . . . about you and your mother."

"I can't face him."

"But you can bring your habit here and face me? What did you think I could do anyway?"

I thought about the aloof woman who had answered the door naked and tried to balance that woman with the frightened, dishevelled looking one sitting across from me.

"Maybe talk to daddy."

Daddy! Did she regress suddenly with that tiny hit of sleet or was she already flying?

"What would you have me talk about exactly?"

"Maybe just- just explain everything so he doesn't get so mad." She began snivelling again.

"And your mother, what would she say to that?"

"My parent are estranged. It's not- formal but we all know."

"We?"

"The staff, Rodney. Me, of course."

"How long?"

"A couple of years I guess."

"What? He never mentioned that to me and why the hell would he buy her a million dollar piece of jewellery . . . an estrangement anniversary gift?"

She just stared at me and I knew there was no answer she might know. I cursed inside and argued with myself about the circumstances. Mother always said, tell the truth. Wish she was here, I'd send her.