Free One Spoonful of Trouble (Felicity Bell Book 1) by Nic Saint Page B

fully intent on finding out all there was to know about Felicity and her suspicious association with Falcone’s men.

CHAPTER 18

    The moment the bell rang, Felicity couldn’t prevent her heart from jumping up into her throat and hope to surge that Rick, in spite of his misgivings, had found it in his heart to forgive and forget. With a quick flourish, she swung the door wide and found herself staring at two men she’d never seen before. Whatever their qualities, they missed the one ingredient that would have endeared them to her: they were most definitely not Rick.
    “Yes?” she barked, a little peeved. Strange men traveling in twos could, in her estimation, only mean one of two things: either they were traveling salesmen or they’d come to save her soul to Jesus. Either way, she wasn’t in the market.
    “Good evening, Miss Bell,” said the tallest of the two, a sallow-faced man who looked as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. “NYPD. I’m Detective Jerry Vale, and this is Detective Johnny Carew. We’re here about Rick Dawson, ma’am. May we come in?”
    Instantly, her mind leaped to the inevitable conclusion: Rick had filed charges against her and now the case was in the hands of the police. Furthermore, the fact that she didn’t know these cops told her he’d filed the charge in New York, and these men had traveled all the way from the big city to conduct the initial interview.
    Her heart sank as she realized that love wasn’t simply dead but was about to bite her in the ass. “Come in,” she muttered brokenly.
    “Could I perhaps use the men’s room?” Detective Vale asked. He was looking sickly and she quickly showed him the way before he barfed all over the floor. His burly companion hovered near the door, taking in the scenery.
    She hurried over to Alice and whispered, “Rick has sent two cops to question me!”
    Alice’s face fell. “Oh, no. How could he do that?”
    Felicity shrugged. “How could he not? You said it yourself. I assaulted him so many times it was the only thing he could do to protect himself from me.”
    “Oh, honey,” exclaimed Alice, clearly upset that the plans she’d been concocting to personally interfere in the budding love affair were now null and void. “I’m so sorry.”
    “Promise me one thing,” Felicity said in a low voice.
    “Anything.”
    “Will you visit me in prison?”
    Alice tsk-tsked at this. “It won’t come to that. I for one will be a character witness and I’m sure others will do the same.” She took her friend’s hand and pressed it firmly. “We won’t let that nasty little fiend Dawson beat you.”
    Felicity’s eyebrow rose. “I thought you wanted me to hook up with him?”
    “That was before he sicced the NYPD on you,” she said decidedly.
    A cough sounded behind her and she saw they’d been joined by the two policemen.
    “Sorry to trouble you,” said Detective Vale.
    “It’s fine. What brings you here, detectives?” she asked, bidding the men to take a seat on the couch.
    “Well, the thing is,” began the sad-looking one, “we’re here because of a complaint we received about a Mr. Richard Dawson. According to my information you’ve had dealings with this gentleman?”
    She frowned. “A complaint about Mr. Dawson?”
    “That’s right.”
    She held up a hand and blinked. “Wait, let me get this straight. You’re not here because of a complaint by Mr. Dawson?”
    “No, we are not,” replied the more robust detective. With his rosy cheeks and ready smile he was the picture of health. Instantly, Felicity’s spirits soared. Rick hadn’t filed charges against her after all. She sent Alice to the kitchen to fetch some refreshments. Within seconds, eager not to miss a thing, Alice returned with a tray of biscuits, what was left over of the strawberry shortcake they prepared that afternoon and cups and saucers for the tea she’d put to boil.
    “Please help yourself,” Felicity said, gesturing to the cake and