janet maple 05 - it doesnt pay to be bad by Marie Astor

to hold me here,” the man retorted. “I won’t speak without my lawyer.”
    “This kind of attitude won’t get you anywhere, buddy.” Dennis stared him down. “Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”
    Laskin turned his attention to their office guest. “I apologize for my colleague’s behavior. Could I get you anything to make you more comfortable while we sort this out? A bottle of water perhaps?”
    “Yes, that would be nice,” the man said quietly.
    “Dennis, I remember you had a stash of Poland Spring here,” Laskin said.
    Dennis grunted. “Jeez, Peter, what’s next to make our guest more comfortable—the shirt off my back?”
    “I’m merely trying to be humane here,” Laskin shot back.
    “Under the desk,” Dennis said dryly.
    Laskin was about to hand the man the water when Dennis caught his hand in mid-air. “What have we got here?” he asked, leaning in closer. In one swift movement, he yanked at the man’s ponytail, tearing off his wig. Next, he pulled at his goatee, ripping it off.
    “Ouch!” The man cowered. “That hurt!”
    “Well, I suggest you stop breaking into places you don’t belong. Then it won’t hurt,” Dennis pointed out.
    Janet gasped. Without his disguise, the man sitting in the chair looked exactly like the aspiring painter they had met in the airport while waiting for their flight home—the same man who had tried to switch Dennis’s bag that had contained the seascape painting they had bought in Antibes. Only now his heavy French accent had vanished completely. She exchanged a glance at Dennis, wondering if he had remembered—this could hardly be a coincidence.
    “Imagine seeing you here,” Dennis said, clearly taken aback. “A struggling artist moonlighting as a thief.”
    “You two know each other?” Ham asked.
    “I believe we met before,” Janet said. She went over to the safe and opened it. “Is this what you were looking for?” she asked the intruder, holding up the painting.
    “I have no idea what that is,” the man retorted, shifting in his chair. “Why would I want some cheap painting?”
    “What’s a painting doing in our safe?” Ham demanded, looking baffled.
    “I’m sorry, Ham. We were going to drop this off at a gallery to get the frame fixed. But we got so busy, we didn’t have time, so we left the painting in the safe overnight,” Janet said ‘we’ rather than singling Dennis out. “The frame got chipped because someone broke into our apartment last night and tried to steal it,” Janet added. “We should’ve told you about it, but we didn’t.”
    Suddenly, Dennis bent down and grabbed the intruder’s shin.
    “What are you doing?” the man struggled to break loose from Dennis, but his grip was firm.
    Dennis yanked up his pant leg, revealing a bandage. “Proof. This was where Baxter got you when you broke into our apartment.”
    The man tried to wrestle free. “What are you talking about? Who is Baxter?”
    “Our Jack Russell Terrier who did a damn good job nicking you. I bet if we pay your place a visit, we’ll find a pair of pants torn in exactly the same spot,” Dennis added. “Now, do you want to start talking, or do you want to spend the rest of the night at the police station?”
    The intruder held up his hands. “All right, all right! I’ll tell you everything.”
    “Why don’t you start by telling us your name,” Dennis demanded.
    “Can you please untie me first?” he said sourly, raising his hands. “I’m clearly outnumbered here,” he added, “so it’s unlikely I’ll run away.”
    Dennis nodded. “Fine.”
    “I’ll do it.” Tina stepped up. “The knots are kinda tricky.”
    “I got it.” Dennis gestured for her to stay back. He reached down, but instead of untying the knots, he went for the intruder’s jacket pocket and yanked out his wallet. “Let’s see if you have any form of identification on you.” Dennis flipped through his wallet and clicked his tongue, pulling out the