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“DARLING, that was magnificent!” Lawrence said, still buzzing with adrenaline as he sat behind the wheel of their Toyota in the Ritchey driveway. Bootsy yipped his excitement at their return and jumped up and down in Myrna’s lap. “I take back every disparaging remark I’ve made. You are Nick and Nora rolled into one, with a touch of Irene Adler thrown in for good measure. How did you know to take those pictures?”
“Well, when we first arrived, I noticed the family portrait above the mantel. It was several years old, so I couldn’t be certain, but the young man in it didn’t look much like our mysterious Justin. When Helen introduced me to her son a little later, I knew you were on the wrong track. Plus, you were working from a hunch to begin with, which meant the whole thing had the potential to blow up in our faces. So, when I still had my doubts after Helen invited us in, I started looking for a good exit strategy. When I remembered what Max said about the stolen office equipment, it seemed like our best bet, not to mention a good way to kill two birds with one stone.”
“I bow to your superior intellect,” Lawrence said with sincerity. “It’s too bad you found a way to get that idiot off my back on the day I’m sure to lose my job. We’re less than thirty minutes from the start of the parade, and we have no clue where the Caddy is. I’d better call Max and give him the bad news.”
Reaching for his phone, he was startled when it emitted a wolf howl before he managed to retrieve it. “That’s probably him now.” But when Lawrence flipped it open, he didn’t recognize the number displayed on the screen. Placing it cautiously to his ear, he offered a tentative, “Hello?”
“Lawrence Frightengale,” said the strange voice on the other end of the line, “I have your car!”