In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,63

wanted to help and, at the same time, hoped I could steer him down a more logical path. Maybe help get him a straight job. But I didn’t realize he’d lied to me until I got back to our hotel room and he was gone.”

The sister threw up her arms, then placed her hands on top of her head. She began pacing in a circle, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

“Tell her what you did,” Johnny said again.

“She just did,” Jess replied. “If you believe her.”

“Please, Miss MacKilligan,” Johnny insisted, “tell my mother what you did.”

The sister stopped pacing and her head slowly turned to focus on MacKilligan.

“I didn’t know exactly what my father had done until I saw it on the news later that night. About how your Stradivarius was missing and there was this massive hunt for it throughout France. But I got out before then. Before the cops came. Because I knew when he left, he’d done something bad.” She blew out a breath, finally looked at them. “I knew there wasn’t much I could do to fix things, but I went ahead and sent a violin that had been gifted to me by a very generous royal who loved one of my operas.”

Jess sucked her tongue against her teeth. “That piece of shit knockoff you sent us? I destroyed that fucking thing.”

MacKilligan scrambled off the table and nearly dropped to her knees, eyes wide with panic; but Johnny caught her.

“No, no!” he said quickly. “The violin was not destroyed. Remember, Mom? You were about to destroy it when I wrestled it from your hands.” He placed MacKilligan back on the table.

“I promise,” he said to the little crook. “It’s safe. Very, very safe.”

“Wait a minute.” The sister stepped forward, staring at MacKilligan. “Are you talking about the violin?”

“Can we talk about this later?” The thief practically begged.

“That was our security blanket. Jesus Christ! What did you do?”

“I had to do something!”

“Why? Because you allowed Dad to fuck you over? Yet again?”

MacKilligan didn’t answer. She gazed at her sister. And her sister gazed back. Until the two women went at each other once more with fists and crazed screeching.

Unable to stand a moment more of this, Jess grabbed each woman by the hair and yanked them apart. Just like she did with her girls.

“That is enough!” she bellowed, separating them with a strong shove. “I honestly don’t know what the hysterics are about. That piece of shit is not even a Stradivarius.”

“That, Mom, is because it’s a Guarneri.”

Jess shrugged. “So? I’ve never heard of it.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t bother telling you. But Uncle Phil and I had it examined and priced by a specialist . . . and it’s definitely a Guarneri.”

“And?”

“And . . . it’s worth about twenty-two million dollars.”

Stunned by that response, all Jess could do was stare at her son. But MacKilligan nodded and noted, “So it’s gone up then, since I had it.”

“Yes,” Johnny replied. “There was an auction a few years back for a Guarneri, and it went for quite a lot. And the one you sent me is pristine, sooo . . .”

Finally able to speak, Jess asked MacKilligan, “You gave my son a twenty-two-million-dollar violin to make up for what your father did? Seriously?”

“Of course, she did,” her sister snapped, livid. “Her and her high moral standards.”

“It was the right thing to do!” MacKilligan screamed at her sister.

“We can’t live off your high moral bullshit!”

“Enough with the yelling!” Jess barked. “I can’t stand it.” She pointed at her head. “Sensitive dog ears.”

The sister shook her head. “I’m telling Charlie.” She turned to walk away but her sister grabbed her hair and yanked her back. MacKilligan wrapped her legs around the sister’s waist and began punching her in the face.

Johnny looked at the giant panda. “Are you not going to stop them?”

“They’ll stop. Besides,” he added with a straight face, “I’m dainty. Like a Fabergé egg.”

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“No,” Jess said, pushing her son back. “You’re not damaging your precious hands.”

Then Jess did what she’d been avoiding this entire time. “Sabina.”

Jess’s best friend appeared and in just a moment she had the knives her husband had purchased for her years ago pressed against the throat of MacKilligan and the inside thigh of the sister.

Instantly, the siblings stopped fighting. They stopped moving. Which Jess found telling. These weren’t spoiled brats who’d never been threatened before, who didn’t realize they were in danger. They knew they were in danger