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“We’re dead, remember,” said Nick, chopping onions with ferocity. “Don’t you ever cook?”
“Not if I can help it. Did those onions offend you personally, or are they a metaphor for someone else?”
“You don’t want an answer to that. I don’t like being cooped up inside. The phone company refused to give me details of my calling history, since I’m dead.” Nick scooped up the onions and tossed them in a pan where they danced and hissed. He waved the large knife at Amanda who only grinned at him. Picking up a red pepper, he attacked this next innocent vegetable.
“Yeah, not being dead can be a real b###h. Any luck today?” Amanda reached over, grabbing a couple of glasses, and pouring some wine for each of them.
Nick cut out the seed pod of the pepper and neatly sliced the rest into julienne strips. “Even though I have my wallet, I checked my debit and credit cards. They weren’t used in the last few days, so I wasn’t robbed. As for the museum, they never heard of us. They have their own in-house security, and never hire outside. We gotta check better when we get jobs. Can’t afford to be sloppy.” Nick was clearly angry with himself for his lapse in judgment.
“In-house, huh?” mused Amanda. “Wonder if they’ve changed anything in the last little while.” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Probably. But still…”
“I can see your efforts to go straight lasted a long time.” Nick’s scowl got deeper as the peppers joined the onions. He stirred them briefly, washed a zucchini, sliced it lengthwise and chopped it into neat semi-circles.
“Without you, it just wasn’t me,” admitted Amanda. “But I might try again, if…” Nick looked up at her, but said nothing. “Say, shouldn’t Bert be back by now?” She looked at her watch and out to the early evening gloom.
“Call him,” suggested Nick, adding chopped tomatoes to his sauce. He turned the heat down and stirred as the aromas of the food comingled, filling the room.
“Good idea!” Amanda hopped down and picked up the landline. She dialed and waited, hung up and dialed again. “No answer. I don’t like that.”
“Neither do I,” agreed Nick. “I think I should go find him.”
“We!” insisted Amanda.
“I work alone,” retorted Nick, turning off the heat under his sauce.
“It’s my house, and I know how to get into it without being seen,” replied Amanda.
He looked at her for a long while, considering the options. “Oh, all right, let’s go,” said Nick. “But remember we’re dead. Nothing ostentatious.” He reached for a set of car keys from the hook beside the door. “We’ll take Bert’s van. I’ll drive.”
A while later, he parked in the dark alley beside Amanda’s building at her directions. “What do we do now, fly?” he asked.
“Sort of,” said Amanda. “Remember the first time we met?” She took a remote control from her pocket. She was wearing a pair of Bert’s jeans and one of his denim jackets. Her hair was tucked under a baseball cap.
“You used the window-washers’ rig to jump from the roof. I remember.” answered Nick. Clad entirely in black, he too was wearing a baseball cap. “But even you have to obey the law of gravity. We want to go up.” He pointed to the roof, many floors above them.
“Watch and learn, kid, watch and learn.” Amanda pushed a button on her remote and they watched as a heavy metal wire descended noiselessly from the rigging on the roof. “Room for two,” she said sprightly, indicating the large wire loop at the bottom.
Slipping his boot into the loop, Nick took hold of the wire with one hand, and held Amanda close to him with the other. She pressed another button on the remote and the wire rose steadily up the side of the building.
“If it weren’t for the circumstances, this would be nice,” whispered Amanda, her arms around Nick’s neck.
Nick felt intoxicated by the scent of her, but did not trust himself to speak. “Hmmm,” he managed, but seemed faintly sad when she clamored out of his arm and onto the flat roof. She held the wire steady as he followed her.
She opened the door leading to the stairs down to the patio of her penthouse. The kitchen door was closed, but unlocked, so they were wary as they entered. Gun ready, Nick checked the living room and library.
“I found him,” chirped Amanda from her bedroom. When Nick joined her, Bert was sitting up, holding his head.
“He was fast and very good,” groaned Bert.
“Did you know him?”
“No, but I could pick him out of a line up.”
“A thief?” asked Amanda as she helped Bert stand. Her fingers felt the lump growing on his head. “Do you think you should get that looked at?”
Bert flinched. “I’ll be fine Amanda.” He pulled away from her probing. “He knew this place, like he’d been here before.”
Nick came with some ice in a towel. “Put this on your head.” He looked into Bert’s eyes. “He missed your temple. You’ll be fine. Did you find my phone?”
“As a matter of fact I did.” Bert adjusted the ice on his head and fished into his pocket. He frowned, changed hands holding the ice and checked the other pocket. Balancing the ice on his head, he checked all his pockets. “Damn, that guy must have taken it.”
“Did you get a chance to look at it before he got it?” Nick asked.
Bert slumped down on an overstuffed chair in a floral pattern. “Yeah, I did.” Closing his eyes, he tried to bring the numbers to mind. “Not yet. But it’ll come.”
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