Shakedown Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Michelle Roth

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-379-4

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Melissa Hosack

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Thanks so much to all of the wonderful folks at Evernight Publishing for making my experience working with them utterly fantastic. I'd also love to give a special shout out to Karen DiGaetano. Your thoughts and feedback made this a much better book. Thanks, babe!

  SHAKEDOWN

  Diamond and Diamond Private Investigators, 1

  Michelle Roth

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  Mike Diamond took a tentative sip of his coffee and then winced as it scorched his mouth. He blew gently at the hot liquid and then cursed when it sloshed onto his hand. It was too damned early for this. It really was.

  Being a private detective usually involved a great deal of legwork with very little pay off. Last night, however, that hadn't been the case. He'd been able to successfully locate a runaway and managed to reunite her with her family in the early morning hours. The idiot kid had been sleeping in shelters and eating out of dumpsters in the two months since her boyfriend kicked her out.

  He hadn't gotten back from dropping her off until after three in the morning. His eight a.m. alarm had come way too soon. Mike dug through his pocket until he found his keys. He flipped through them, looking for the door, when he heard the unmistakable sound of his secretary Lara saying, “Hang on a minute.”

  Seconds later, the door popped open. He gave her his most winning smile and said, “Morning, gorgeous.”

  “Jesus, Mikey. You look like crap. Did you even sleep?”

  He gave Lara a sour look as he blew some of the steam off of his cup of coffee. Dryly, he said, “Reunited the Moodys with their daughter last night. Ended up driving her out to Bracebridge. Didn't get out of there til real late. Not enough beauty sleep.”

  “Where the heck is that?” Lara asked, ignoring the rest of his statement.

  He hazarded another quick sip of coffee. “About two hours north of Toronto. Anyway, I got the poor kid a meal and then took her back home. She was thrilled. Parents were thrilled to have her. I'm fuckin' beat though.”

  Frowning, Lara opened her mouth to reprimand his language, but before she could speak, he heard his Uncle Rick bellow, “Mike? That you?”

  “Oh,” Lara said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I almost forgot. His royal majesty said he wanted to see you when you finally showed up.”

  “Why don't you two crazy kids just get a room already,” he asked, grinning as he opened the office door.

  “Bite your tongue,” she said just as he closed the door.

  “What's up?”

  “About time you graced us with your presence, Sunshine.”

  Responding with nothing more than a middle finger, Mike slumped down into one of the worn office chairs.

  “I heard from Tad Moody this morning. He was thrilled. Good work, kid.”

  “I drove her home myself so she couldn't bolt. I didn't sleep til almost four.”

  “That explains why you look like shit, then. No time to rest though. I've got another case for you,” Rick said.

  Mike shifted and asked, “So what do you have for me?”

  The gleam in Rick's eye didn't bode well. The last time he'd seen that look, he'd been wading through the trash behind Mr. Umemoto's Sushi digging for what had turned out to be an untraceable burner cell. If there was one thing he hated it was hot, days old sushi.

  “Nope. This isn't a repeat of Mr. Umemoto's, kid. I promise. Much easier, in fact. It's a dog napping.”

  Mike blinked at him, then took a long swig of his coffee, wishing it was bourbon. “Seriously? A dog napping? Since when do we take on shit like that?”

  “Look,” Rick said, leveling with him. “An old friend of mine sent this woman my way. I owed a favor. Besides, that dog makes more a year than you do.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Mike asked, “How do you figure?”

  “It's one of those prissy little show dogs. Pulled in like 100K last year. Don't ask me why people pay yapping little dogs five thousand a pop to run around a ring. Have you seen those shows? They hold the dogs by their neck and their tails. It's inhumane.”

  “Not really my thing,” Mike said. “Didn't realize it was yours, either. Maybe it's an old people thing. I'll letcha know in another fifteen years. In the meantime, since it's your favor, why don't you handle it?”

  “Cause it'll be good for you, ya smart ass,” Rick groused. “Besides, low man on the totem pole and all that.”

  “Fuck me,” he complained. “So what's the deal? Is this lady sure the dog didn't just run away from home?”

  “No clue. From what I've been told, apparently she just went through a messy divorce. They went to court and battled it out over everything. She apparently cleaned him out. Took almost everything.”

  “Poor bastard.” He sympathized.

  “Not so fast. Carla didn't outright say it, but I get the impression he might have gotten a little too physical,” Rick said.

  Mike's blood ran cold. There were many, many flaws he found himself able to overlook. Hitting women wasn't one of them. “Piece of shit,” he muttered. “What about the cops? She call them in?”

  “Apparently they weren't all that quick to issue a search warrant for a dog. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah.” He groaned. “You're really gonna make me investigate a dog-napping? I'm a trained professional, man. Come on!”

  “Well,” Rick reasoned. “Shouldn't take you long to crack the case then. Go on. I got shit to do. She's probably waiting for you already.”

  “Carry on, then,” he said, dryly. Picking himself up out of the chair, he added, “You're gonna owe me after this. No more cheating spouses for a while, at least?”

  “There's no telling, kid. Low man on the totem pole and all,” Rick said, his grin wholly unrepentant.

  With one last baleful glace, Mike left the office. He was relieved to find the lobby was empty, so he stopped back at Lara's desk and asked, “Can you believe that shit? A dog napping?”

  He didn't think for a minute she hadn't overheard every word. That woman was like the KGB and Secret Service all in one. Anything happened in this office, she had it under immediate surveillance.

  Lara cuffed him on the arm and said, “She's in the bathroom, idiot.”

  Mike winced, feeling bad he'd probably been overheard. But, seriously, who hired a PI to find a lost dog?

  Seconds later, the bathroom door slowly opened. He almost did a double take as the woman stepped out. Aside from red eyes that had clearly been crying, she was a looker.

  She was elegantly dressed and somewhere near his age, with a riot of auburn curls trailing down her back, like some sort of mermaid siren. All ripe, lush curves. He'd always liked his women soft.

  And, he was ogling this obviously distraught woman like she was a steak. Not that he wouldn't be more than interested in taking a bite, but it was clear that now wasn't the time. So instead of voicing his thoughts, he stuck his hand out and said, “Mike Diamond. And you are?”

  “Cassidy Werner,” she said, not bothering to stick her hand out.

  Well, apparentl
y she'd heard him. He'd need to apologize, if the look on her face was any indication. He dropped his hand and said, “My office is this way.”

  She gave him a look that screamed 'You're on thin ice, buddy' but moved toward the open office door that Mike had gestured to. He followed her, once again appreciating the hourglass waist and full hips. Damn.

  He moved behind his desk and gestured to one of the worn chairs. When she had settled in, he asked, “So I understand your dog has been kidnapped?”

  He tried desperately to keep his tone neutral, but he clearly failed because she said, “Well, come on. Let's get this out of the way now. I've had this conversation with every member of law enforcement I've encountered thus far.”

  Mike wouldn't touch that topic with a ten foot pole. “Not sure what you mean.” He lied smoothly.

  “I heard you when I was in the bathroom, you jerk. You think I'm a wacko just like the cops did. Some crazy dog person freaked out when her dog ran away.”

  “Crazy dog lady,” he clarified, impressed she was willing to call him out on it. “In my mind you were a crazy dog lady. I had a rough night last night. Not enough sleep. I'm sorry.”

  “Boozing until all hours. Womanizing, Mr. Diamond,” she asked smugly.

  “It's Mike, and no.” He automatically fired back. “Driving a runaway teen back to her family in Bracebridge.”

  “Gee. If only I'd asked instead of assuming,” she said sarcastically.

  She had him there. He'd certainly made some assumptions. This time, with more sincerity in his voice, he said, “I'm sorry. You're absolutely right. I'm going to blame my shitty behavior on my lack of sleep. In any case, Ms. Werner, I'd be interested in hearing about your case if you'd like to tell me.”

  “Cassidy,” she said, correcting him. “No one gets it. You're just the unlucky one that got to hear me spout off about it.” A moment later she confided, “Those of us that can't have children sometimes get pets instead. He's like my furry little son.”

  “I'm sorry,” he said when he saw the lost look on her face. He frowned at the small twinge he felt in his chest, and added, “Let's see what we can do to get him back. Okay?”

  Chapter Two

  After she had delivered that little bombshell, Cassidy dug into her bag. Pulling out a photo, she handed it to Mike and said, “This is Sir Roderick Von Liechtenstein.”

  “Pardon,” Mike asked her after he took the picture. Then his eyes wide, he said, “Holy shit. That's not a dog. That looks like a lion!”

  Cassidy laughed and corrected him. “Tibetan Mastiff.”

  “And the name,” he asked.

  “When you show a dog, they have to have a completely unique name registered. We bought him from a special breeder in Liechtenstein. She had already named him Roddy and he wouldn't answer to anything else.”

  “He's a cute little guy,” Mike admitted. “So he's been stolen?”

  “My ex and I split recently. According to the divorce settlement, Roddy is mine. I think he may have taken him in retribution.”

  “Why?”

  “Roddy is a purebred Tibetan Mastiff. He's one of the best examples of his breed in the world. Last year he made over a hundred thousand in prize money.”

  “Whoa,” Mike said, obviously shocked. Most people were, though.

  “We donated most of it. Or, I thought we had. That was part of what caused the whole divorce in the first place. I caught him funneling Roddy's winnings into a personal account. From there, things got really nasty. Restraining order nasty.”

  “It's possible, then. He obviously has a motive to steal the dog. Several, actually.” After a quick pause and some scribbling on the notepad in front of him, Mike asked, “What did the cops say about that?”

  She frowned and said, “I reported it. They sent someone over to do a cursory check, but found he'd left the place where he lived. Obviously, there was no dog on the premises. I don't know where the bastard is keeping him, but he's the only one that had access to him besides his handler, Marla.”

  “When did he go missing?”

  “In the afternoon, two days ago. Marla came over to walk him around one and then she left him inside. When I got off work at six, he wasn't there. I have a key, she has a key, and my ex might have a key. He says he turned them over, but I'll just say I don't really trust him.”

  “Understood,” he said, nodding. “It may very well be him that took the dog. The easiest answer is usually the correct one when it comes to this kind of thing. Being able to break into a house with no forced entry isn't the easiest thing in the world to do. Especially without alerting that giant, probably really loud, dog of yours.”

  “He's a sweetheart, but his bark could wake the dead,” Cassidy said. “I feel like he would have grabbed some attention during the day on my street. It's pretty populated. There are plenty of stay at home parents, too.”

  Mike hesitated before he asked, “And have you checked the shelters and pound? On the off chance that he got out?”

  “Roddy is a unique dog. No one remembers seeing a dog that weighs over 72 kilograms that also looks like a lion coming through the shelters. I went to all of them within a twenty kilometer radius. When the cops kind of blew me off, I figured I was on my own. My godmother recommended you guys. Do you really think you can help?”

  “I'm sure I'd remember meeting a big boy like that,” Mike reasoned, gesturing to the photo that lay on his desk. “I'm going to be honest with you. This isn't really what we do. Typically we investigate insurance fraud, corporate espionage, stuff like that. Under special circumstances we take on location cases, like the runaway I mentioned. I found her in a shelter almost 200 kilometers from home. If he's out there, I'll try my hardest to find him. Okay?”

  She nodded. That would have to be enough. “Thank you,” she almost whispered. “He's my baby.”

  He nodded solemnly as if he completely understood her. That kind patience was her undoing. Her eyes began to water. Quickly, he passed her a box of tissues and said, “Deep breaths, Cassidy. I've got a few more questions whenever you're ready.”

  Cassidy took several deep, calming breaths before she finally nodded and said, “Ready.”

  “Have you noticed anyone around your place lately that didn't belong?”

  And so on, the questions continued for the next hour or so. He asked about everything from what groomers she used to any neighbor that had maybe admired him too much. He jotted notes with each question. He was incredibly thorough. He explored other avenues that would explain Roddy's disappearance. Even in her emotional state, she understood the necessity in that, though part of her wanted to remind him that they were wasting time.

  Cassidy didn't think Roger would hurt Roddy, but her poor baby must be frightened at this point. They hadn't been separated for more than a day at a time since she'd brought him home from Europe. She missed that slobbery little face already.

  Mike wrapped up the meeting by getting her contact information and address. At her suggestion, he would be around later in the afternoon to canvas the neighbors. In the meantime, he suggested she contact Marla to see if there was a good time for him to swing by the vet's office where she worked. Even though she'd said Marla didn't have any information, Mike insisted.

  When the meeting was over, he gave her a business card, made a photo copy of the picture she'd provided, and then walked her out. The comforting squeeze he'd given her on the shoulder gave her a little flutter. She had to admit.

  Mike Diamond was actually pretty hot, despite being an asshole. He had light sandy brown hair that was closely cropped to his head. He was in his mid-thirties, maybe. Even under his thick sweater, she could see he was built. The sleeves had been snug when he'd stopped to take off his jacket. Mike's features had been completely passive the entire time, but his eyes definitely weren't. They were hazel and absolutely gorgeous. Expressive too.

  She'd been able to read him like a book when they'd been seated at the desk. That first apology had been for show.
The second one had been genuine. It had taken him a bit to warm up to the idea of the case, but now she was convinced he would take it seriously. He seemed determined to find Roddy. Maybe he wasn't entirely an asshole.

  Cassidy headed toward the parking lot. She rifled through her bag until she found her cell. Wiping the smudges off the touch screen, she dialed Marla, Roddy's handler. On the fourth ring, Marla picked up.

  “Hey, Cass. Any news on Roddy yet?”

  “No,” she glumly reported. “Nothing as of yet. I did hire a private investigator. Someone Carla recommended to me. I'm hopeful he'll be able to find something. Is there any way you could speak with him?”

  “Just so long as it's not at work. Dr. Townsend threw a fit when the cops showed up to talk to me the other day. Said it was bad for business.”

  She winced and said, “Jesus. I'm so sorry about that. I didn't think about how bad that would look. I'm so sorry.”

  “Roddy is a huge investment. I totally understand,” Marla said. “Just ... let me come over there after work one day.”

  “Well, the PI is canvasing the neighborhood this afternoon. I can let him know what time you'll be over if you'd be willing to today.”

  “Of course,” Marla said in agreement. “I'm off work at five-thirty today. I can be there right after. So maybe six?”

  “I'll call and let him know,” she said, absolutely thrilled for any forward motion.

  After a quick call to Mike to let him know about Marla, she slid into her car. She knew how crazy it must look, her hiring a private detective to find her dog. She didn't care though. With her parents dead, and no siblings, it was basically just her. Her godmother, Carla, was the closest thing she had to family.

  Between the hours she put in at work and the shows, it was difficult to manage any real sustaining friendships. She worked as an accountant so most of the people in her office were dull as dishwater. She couldn't imagine spending much time with them outside of work. Everyone at the office pretty much stuck to themselves anyway. She often wondered if they all secretly felt the same way about her as she did them.