"Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Sweet Young Things" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

Sweet Young Things
by Kristine Kathryn Rusch




Art by Laurie Harden
****
Kristine Kathryn Rusch is a published author in several genres but readers of
mysteries may not recognize her name since books in her private-eye series starring
Smokey Dalton appear under the pseudonym Kris Nelscott. The latest in that series,
Days of Rage, was published in February 2006 by St. MartinтАЩs Minotaur. Ms.
Rusch, who is married to Dean Wesley Smith, is a former EQMM Readers Award
Winner.
****
Pawnshops were all the same. Crowded with junk, reeking of cigarette smoke,
they always had one guy who hadnтАЩt bathed in a week sitting behind a glass counter.
The counter was the only thing that had been cleaned in twenty years.
Fala rested her palms against the countertop, feeling the warmth of the glass
beneath her skin. Old lights illuminated the jewelry inside. Some of it glistened. Much
of it was as worthless as the junk on the wallsтАФold class rings, Masonic pins, cheap
rosariesтАФbut some of it had possibilities. A garnet ring with emeralds on the side,
clearly 1950s. A Tiffany pin, all gold, shiny and complete. A grandmother ring,
ostentatious with its twenty different jewels, half a dozen of them small rubies.
Estate jewelry. Desperation jewelry. The last of a large lot.
тАЬSixty-five dollars,тАЭ the scrawny guy said, taking the JewelerтАЩs Eye from his
own. His fingernails were black, and his hair was matted against his skull.
She reserved her shiver of distaste for later. The ring he held was worth four
thousand, minimum. The diamond was an emerald-cut from the 1920s, rare these
days, and the setting was pure white gold.
тАЬA hundred and fifty,тАЭ she said.
тАЬLadyтАФтАЭ
тАЬCтАЩmon,тАЭ she said, trying to sound whiny. тАЬIt was my grandmotherтАЩs. I doubt
IтАЩm coming back for it. At least give me something.тАЭ
 тАЬA hundred.тАЭ The ring clinked as he set it on the countertop.
тАЬI need a hundred and fifty.тАЭ
He wouldnтАЩt get a deal like that anywhere else, but then again, he wouldnтАЩt
turn it around that quickly, either. She knew how it worked, maybe better than he
did.
тАЬYouтАЩre lucky IтАЩm a soft touch.тАЭ He reached the shelf behind the counter,
tapped the old-fashioned cash register, and it opened with the ring of a bell. She
hadnтАЩt heard that sound since sheтАЩd been in college.
He handed her seven twenties and a ten, all crumpled, all feeling slightly
greasy. She counted them, forcing her hands to shake as if she couldnтАЩt believe her
good fortune.
Actually, she was making sure each bill was legit. The last time sheтАЩd done
this, in Detroit, sheтАЩd gotten two counterfeit twenties, all the тАЬunduplicatableтАЭ kind.
But the bills she held in her hand this time came from the last century: none of that
phony-color Monopoly money stuff.
She shoved them in her right-hand pocket as he filled out the brown ticket