Nicked Chapter Two “Here is a hammer and lots of tacks, also a ball and a whip that cracks . . .” The first responder to my 911 call was Officer Mia Cordona, dark haired, early thirties, with curves not entirely concealed by unisex slacks and a bulky blue jacket. Mother and I had a somewhat tumultuous history with my one-time friend Mia ever since we’d unintentionally blown her cover on a drug case (we were investigating an unrelated murder, needless to say without Mia’s official status). Anyway, Officer Cordona was clearly not infused with holiday cheer upon seeing the two of us standing in the snow outside Santa’s workshop. “Mia, dear,” Mother began, as the law enforcer approached, “might I remind you that this is a crime scene? I realize murder isn’t your specialty.” Mia’s cheeks, red from the cold wind, turned a deeper, not-at-all Christmassy crimson. “Might I remind you two to stay the hell out of my way?” Mother tsk-tsked. “Profanity is both unprofessional and unbecoming in a public servant .
What do You think about Antiques St. Nicked (2015)?
