Free An Act of Deceit: Book 2 of the Sarah Woods Mysteries by Jennifer L. Jennings Page A

purse.
         Carter produced a small flashlight he kept in the center console. He took the napkin and clicked the light on. “Who’s Armand?”
         “No idea. All she said was that he’d take care of the asshole boyfriend I told her about.”
         Carter gave me a quizzical look. “Okay, give him a call in the morning.” He switched the light off, returned it to the console, and looked across the street.
         “You know,” I said, after a brief silence, “I was thinking if things don’t work out with you, maybe I’ll get a part-time job bartending at Lola’s.”
         “What do you know about bartending?”
         “A lot. I worked my way through massage school by bartending.”
         “Ever work at a strip club?”
         “No, but so what? If I can make drinks at Applebee’s, I can certainly make them at Lola’s.”
         “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Carter threw his head back in laughter.
         “What’s so damn funny? You got something against Applebee’s?”
         Carter shook his head, still laughing. “So, what the hell happened to your keys? Someone steal them from your purse?”
         In that moment it dawned on me. My purse was hanging from the stool when the smug prick in the fancy clothes bought me a drink. He could have lifted them when my back was turned. Carter must have read the look on my face.
         “What’s up, Sarah?”
         “Damn it. I think I know who took my keys. Well, I don’t actually know him.”
         “Who?”
         “Some guy with a shaved head and a fancy suit. He bought me a drink at the bar. I’m an idiot.”
         Carter touched my arm. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. Scam artists aren’t called ‘artists’ for nothing. They’re clever, and far more polished than you might think. You’re just learning this business. You’ll catch on. Actually, you already have,” he added.
         “At least he left my wallet. It could have been--”
         Carter held up a finger to silence me. There was movement across the street
         “That’s her,” I whispered, as Tiffany exited the club and climbed into a red Volkswagen Jetta. Carter waited about ten seconds before pulling out behind her, following at a safe distance. She drove a few miles before pulling up in front of a three-story apartment building. Carter pulled over and cut his engine.
         “Write this down,” he said, tapping my arm. “125 Wilson Road.”
         I pulled out my notebook and jotted down the address. Meanwhile, Carter had rolled the windows down a few inches. When I looked up, Tiffany was about to enter the building when a man came out of nowhere and grabbed her from behind. She screamed.
         I reached over and clutched Carters arm, but Tiffany’s screaming ceased. She was now laughing. She slapped the guy playfully on the chest. From our vantage point, all we could see was that he had an athletic build and was wearing a black baseball cap, black jacket, and jeans.
         “Holy shit,” I whispered, “I thought she was about to get mugged.”
         Carter dropped the windows a few more inches to try to make out their conversation.
         “You ass hat, I nearly peed my pants,” Tiffany said to the guy. “What are you doing here?”
         “Just making sure you got home okay.”
         “Well, that’s sweet of you, but it’s late. You must be exhausted.”
         “I’m fine.”
         “Did you see anyone suspicious at the club tonight?” Tiffany asked.
         “No, but I’ll continue to keep an eye out.”
         “Okay, great. Listen, I need to take a shower and get some sleep, but I’ll call you if anything happens.”
         “Fine, but watch your back, okay.” The guy turned and walked away as Tiffany opened the front door.
         “Goodnight,” she said, turning to wave before she stepped inside and pulled the