The Player and the Pixie(90)

“You there! Empty your bag.”

She mouthed the words, Oh shite. Her eyes closed as a scarlet flush of mortification spread up her neck and cheeks. He reached Lucy before I did and yanked her bag away, the same bag I’d mocked at the restaurant after I’d spotted her shoplifting the first time. He then unceremoniously turned it upside down and shook it.

Rescue her, an impulsive voice insisted in the recesses of my mind. Rescue her as she’d rescued you.

Possessions rained from her purse, clattering on the shop’s marble slab floor. Four containers of golf balls fell along with her phone, purse, and other sundry items.

When her phone collided with the marble, an unmistakable cracking sound of the screen shattering reverberated like a gunshot between my ears. It was the final straw that spurred me into action.

“You’ve broken her phone,” I said, charging forward, drawing both Lucy’s and the store clerk’s attention to me. I felt her eyes like a physical touch. I didn’t need to see her face to know I’d shocked the hell out of her.

He backed up a step at my approach, lifting his chin to meet my glare, and responding with haughty impatience, “Sorry for the inconvenience, sir. But I’ve just caught a thief.” He gestured to Lucy, either misunderstanding or mishearing my complaint.

“No you haven’t,” I insisted, stepping in front of her protectively and crossing my arms.

Delay, my mind insisted. Bluff. Threaten. Improvise. Fix this.

The man’s mouth opened and closed, working to sort through my words.

“Do you know who she is?” I gained another step forward, towering over him and glaring menacingly.

“Sean,” her soft voice pleaded. “Don’t.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and he set his jaw. “I don’t care if she’s the Queen’s sister, she’s a thief and I’m calling the police.”

“You’ll lose your job,” I threatened, pleased to see his eyes widen with a moment of hesitation. “She’s Ronan Fitzpatrick’s sister, captain of the Irish rugby squad.”

“I don’t care for rugby,” he said, sniffing self-importantly. “I prefer golf.”

“Well, you ought,” I growled, both irritated and perversely pleased he wasn’t a rugby fan. “He’s getting married here tomorrow. What do you think management will say if you call the police on his little sister after he’d spent thousands of euros on his special day?”

He frowned, a deep V of consternation forming between his eyebrows. A sound to my right caught his attention and I allowed my gaze to stray for a brief moment. We’d drawn a crowd. Gawking passers-by had stopped to watch the exchange.

Unfortunately, their presence seemed have the effect of reinforcing his resolve. He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin higher. “As I said, I don’t care who she is. Nothing negates the fact that she’s attempted to steal several hundred euros of valuable merchandise from my store. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a call to the authorities to make.”

Unthinkingly, I placed a hand on his arm to stay his movements, “Wait—”

“Unhand me, sir!”

“You have the wrong person.”

He wrestled his arm from my grip. “I certainly do not.”

“You do,” I seethed, seeing intimidation of the normal kind would get me nowhere and, scrambling for a solution that would see her free and safe, I announced, “I put the balls in her bag.”

“Sean!” Lucy was at my side, her hands wrapping around my wrist. “Stop this.”

I threaded my fingers through hers to still her movements. “While she wasn’t looking, I put them in her bag, thought it would be a good joke. She had no idea.”

“You did no such thing,” the man huffed, clearly seeing through my lie.

“I did, and you can’t prove the contrary.”

Lucy tried to bypass me, so I wrapped my arm around her, covering her mouth just as she said, “No he—”

“I did.”

She strained against my grip, her hands coming to mine in an effort to pull my fingers away so she could speak.

“I did it. It was me. Call the garda. I don’t care.”

The clerk looked between the two of us like we were crazy. Lucy growled, now trying to elbow me in the stomach.

“What’s going on here?” a new voice asked, one I immediately recognized. “Let go of my sister, Cassidy.”

I didn’t. I held her tighter for fear she would blurt her guilt. Lucy had stiffened, having abandoned her struggle as soon as her brother appeared.

I shot Ronan a look, hoping I could take advantage of his typical reactionary behaviors for the next few moments.