Murders & Romance: A Psychic Detective Romantic Mystery (Isaac Taylor Mysteries Book 5) by Lashell Collins (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📗

“I know he’s your friend. And I don’t want it to be true either.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“I don’t like the way he always looks at me like I’m a steak and he’s starving.”

Zoe laughed, and Sidney smiled.

“Anyway… Isaac took me into Tiffany’s and told me to pick out anything I wanted.”

“Ah, hence the millionaire rock star reference.”

“Exactly. Then, after I chose this beauty, he got down on one knee — right there in the jewelry store — proposed all over again and slipped it on my finger.”

“Aww! I had no idea that man of yours was such a romantic.”

“Neither did I, but it was perfect.”

“I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks!”

“But I’m also worried.”

Sidney stared at her. “What? Why?”

“All of the strange things happening. Your tires, that package. I mean, what’s next?”

“Don’t ask that question! Don’t ever ask that question; it’s like tempting fate.”

Zoe laughed at her, and Sidney grinned and left the office.

She went in search of Ann and found her in one of the bathrooms upstairs, cleaning her little girl’s face and hands.

“There you are.”

Ann looked up and smiled at her.

“I think more oatmeal and jam ended up on her face than in her belly.”

Sidney giggled. Then a pang of longing fluttered somewhere inside her when Ann kissed the top of her daughter’s head.

“Okay, go play. But stay here in the room.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

They watched the little girl walk over to her coloring book and crayons in the corner of the bedroom, and Sidney turned to Ann.

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”

“Of course not. Is this about… you know?”

“Yes. I’ve located someone that does convincing work on false documents, so I’m going to need your picture.”

“My picture?”

“For a fake ID and passport. Actually, I’ll need photos of the children as well.”

“Oh. Right.” She ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. “I look a fright. But I guess, most people do on their driver’s licenses, don’t they?”

Sidney smiled. “I know I do. Look, the picture doesn’t really matter much in the long run. It’s not like you’re going to keep it and frame it. We just need something to attach your new name to. It’s only temporary.”

“I know. I get it. Let me just um… run a brush through my hair or something.”

“Okay.”

Sidney waited while Ann made herself slightly more camera ready. Then she took a couple of headshots with her cellphone, and snapped a couple of Laney and Ben as well.

“These should be perfect,” she said, looking at the pics on her phone. “I’ll let you know when I have an update.”

“Okay. Sidney?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks again. For all you’re doing.”

Sidney smiled at her. “You’re welcome.”

She left Ann’s room and went back downstairs to the office, where Zoe was gathering her planner and a couple of files into her bag.

“Oh, Sidney. I’m off to my meeting with the chairwoman of the Women’s Business League. We’re going to discuss a program that will allow for business mentors to come in and do some coaching for residents entering the work force. You know… resume writing, interview tips, asking for a raise, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, yes. We’ve talked about that before. That would be a wonderful program if you can arrange it.”

“Wish me luck. And hold down the fort.”

“Will do.”

When Zoe left, Sidney closed the office door and hurried to her desk. She dug out the slip of paper Ike had given her with the name and number of the document forger. She took a deep breath and then dialed. The phone rang only once.

“Yeah?”

Not the friendliest of greetings.

“Is this Ronan O’Dwyer?”

There was hesitation on the other end of the line, a caution that Sidney could feel in her bones. She suddenly wondered if he would turn her away because she was female.

“Who’s asking?”

The voice was distinctly Irish. The tone was distinctly suspicious.

“My name is Sidney Fai…”

“I don’t want yer last name.”

“Oh. All right. Well, then you can just call me Sid.”

“Are ya a copper, Sid?”

“A copper? Oh. You mean a cop. A police officer?”

“Aye.”

“No. I’m not a cop. I’m in social work.”

“How’d ya get this number, Sid the social worker?”

How was she supposed to answer that? I’m not a cop, but my future husband is. That would go over well.

“From a friend.”

“And why would this friend send ya ta me?”

“Because I asked him where I could get my hands on some false documents.”

“And he just tossed me name out, all casual like?”

“Well… no. Not at first. Not until I’d brought the subject up a few times. I think he didn’t take me seriously at first. And then he just wanted me to be careful, so he gave me your number because he said you do good work. Convincing and discreet.”

Hesitation again. She could almost hear him thinking.

“What is it yer wantin’ from me, Sid the social worker?”

“A driver’s license. Birth certificates and passports for a woman and two small children.”

“Well, did yer friend tell ya that I don’t work fer pennies, Sid?”

“He said you weren’t cheap.”

“He told ya true. The three passports will run ya two hundred a piece.”

His three sounded more like ‘tree’, but Sidney got the gist.

“One hundred for the driver’s license. One fifty for each of the documents. Another hundred fer me time and labor. That’s twelve hundred and fifty total. Ya still interested?”

Sidney blew out a silent breath. $1250. She closed her eyes and silently prayed Ann had that much to spare.

“Yes. I’m still interested.”

“Payment is due when I deliver yer papers, then. Delivery happens on neutral ground. Public place.”

“That sounds acceptable.”

“If I deliver yer papers and I don’t get paid, delivery has a bad ending fer you.”

“There’s no need for threats, Mr. O’Dwyer. You’ll get your money. If this goes well, I may even become a repeat customer.”

“I’ll hold up me end of the bargain. All will go well as long as you hold up the end of yers.”

“All right then.”

“I assume ya have pictures for me?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are they digital?”

“They are.”

“Text them to this number once we hang up, along with