B. A. Tortuga - Bad for Business.pdf

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Bad for Business
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Bad for Business
by B. A. Tortuga
Torquere Press
www.torquerepress.com
Copyright ©2009 by BA Tortuga
First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2009
NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser
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overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are
erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to
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This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.
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Bad for Business
by B. A. Tortuga
Bad for Business
By BA Tortuga
Honestly, people were so incredibly...
Predictable.
Licking his lips, he hopped the privacy fence, slipping
through the shadows and around the pool. That terrible little
yippy fuzzball was bouncing furiously, little pink tongue
flicking out, over and over.
He growled; the sound echoed just a little bit, and the
puppy yipped and ran, white cotton ball of a tail held high. He
fought the urge to give chase, hunt the little beast, but he
knew better. That wasn't what he really wanted.
Padding around the edge of the pool, he headed for the
house. He'd been in once before, hunting the safe with the
artwork his client had requested.
Divorces were nasty things.
Slipping in through the doggie door, he moved through the
empty house. He had two hours before the future ex-Mrs.
McAllen came home, and by then, the Kertesz photos would
be gone, heading for the copy machine and to his agent's
agent so that he'd get his money, the originals on their way
to a museum.
In and out, nasty little games averted.
If he were incredibly lucky, Mrs. McAllen would hire him to
retrieve her mother's pearls and china from Frank.
That would be most amusing.
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Bad for Business
by B. A. Tortuga
He dropped the little sack of equipment from his mouth,
crouching low before concentrating. Two hours and he'd be
home free.
Julian did love his job dearly.
"Mrs. McAllen, I know you feel like your personal property
was stolen, but there's nothing about these photographs on
your list of provisions from the divorce." Thayne Terra hated
bored society chicks. And frankly, no one who'd looked at the
crime scene could figure out how anyone could have gotten in
to do the job. The doggie door was pretty small, and none of
the windows or doors had been jimmied, picked or jammed.
Personally, he thought it was an inside job.
"You don't understand! I've been violated! VIOLATED!"
Lord, that woman could scream.
"We'll do all we can. Donny? Can you finish up the lady's
statement? I need to check the escape routes."
He fled, the shrill screaming still sounding.
Donny was going to kick his ass, no sh...
He stopped short in the backyard, head tilting.
He knew that scent.
Sniffing hard, Thayne skirted the pool, ignoring the
yapping little dog who followed him every step. There was a
definite scent trail. He didn't know exactly what he was
looking for, eyes on the ground, lips twitching; he was trying
so hard.
There. Just by the back fence, there was half a paw print.
A big one. Damn. That would be why there were no
fingerprints, no jimmied doors.
4
Bad for Business
by B. A. Tortuga
He bent down, fingers tracing the lines. Male, strong, full-
grown... But still small enough in cat form to fit through the
dog door, without the relatively massive shoulders of a
human being.
A black hair was caught in the print, another couple of
hairs atop the fence. That would help. Jags were unusual in
these parts.
Unusual at best.
Cool. He bagged the hairs for evidence, even though there
was no way he could turn them over to the lab. Hell, that was
why he was a detective. There were some cases that the
uniforms didn't need to know about.
The tree leaves rustled, and he went still, hairs standing
up all over his arms.
Lifting his face, Thayne scented the air, seeing if it was
just paranoia, or if someone was watching.
Bright yellow eyes peered down from the leaves of the
elm, the little calico howling at him, the sound low, seductive.
"Oh, look at who's a pretty kitty." He grinned, purring a
little, just for her benefit.
She preened, stretching along the branch.
"What can you tell me about the Jag, baby?" He was so
not above flirting with a house cat for some information.
Oh, that got a sniff and a yowl. Somebody'd taken her
favorite napping branch.
Twice.
"You're a star, baby." He boosted himself up into the first
available crook, then held up his hands and she flowed right
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