janet maple 05 - it doesnt pay to be bad Read Online Free

bought at the gallery. “Excuse me, sir, but that is my husband’s bag,” Janet said firmly.
    “Oh, pardon me!” The young man adjusted his glasses. “Silly me! I forgot I put my bag on the other side of my seat.” He spoke with a heavy French accent. He held up a portfolio carryon bag identical to the one Dennis had. “Would you look at that,” he said, genuinely baffled.
    “Seems we have the same bag,” Dennis said absentmindedly, picking up his bag. “We’d better make sure we didn’t mix them up.” He opened up the zipper and looked inside. “Nope, all set.”
    “Oh, I am very relieved to hear it!” the young man exclaimed. “I am flying to Zurich to showcase my portfolio to a gallery owner. You had just saved me from a terrible calamity and I’m forever indebted to you.”
    “Oh, it’s nothing.” Janet waved her hand dismissively. “Are you an artist?”
    The young man blushed. “I am yet to sell a painting, but if my meeting goes well, I might have a chance.”
    “You don’t have to sell paintings to be an artist,” Janet pointed out.
    The young man smiled nervously. “You’re very kind. But most people, including my father, would disagree.”
    “Then I guess I disagree with most people. Would you mind showing us some of your work?” Janet asked. “I’d love to see it.”
    A quick frown crossed the man’s forehead. “I’d be delighted, but everything is wrapped up very tightly.”
    “Some other time then,” Dennis cut in, taking Janet’s arm. “Honey, we really have to run, or we’ll miss our flight. Good luck with your meeting,” Dennis added to the young man. “Maybe we’ll be buying a painting of yours someday.”
    “One can only hope,” the young man said wistfully.
    “Wasn’t that funny?” Janet murmured into Dennis’s ear as they were leaving the lounge.
    “What was?” Dennis asked, busy looking for the check-in gate.
    “That guy having exactly the same bag as yours.”
    “Gates one through five,” Dennis muttered, “good, we’re going the right way. What was that?”
    “The bag,” Janet repeated, as she followed Dennis, “the guy at the bar had exactly the same bag as yours. Don’t you think that’s funny?”
    “Not really—it’s a portfolio case. They all look the same.”
    “I guess. I’m glad I spotted him though—imagine if he’d walked off with your bag.”
    “After everything we went through to buy that seascape, I don’t even want to think about the possibility,” Dennis quipped. “Now let’s get a move on, or we’ll miss our boarding.”
     
    ***
     
    “Home sweet home at last!” Dennis thrust the key into the front door lock and turned it open. He swung open the door and wheeled in his suitcase.
    Janet followed Dennis, dragging her suitcase behind her. “You can say that again. I feel like I could sleep for ten hours straight,” she added, closing the door shut. Their flight got delayed at the last minute and they ended up sitting an additional hour on the plane before takeoff. It was only six p.m. New York time, but the jetlag was starting to take its toll and Janet could feel her eyes closing.
    “That sounds like an excellent idea.”
    “Except you forget that Mrs. Chapman is going to be here any minute to drop off Baxter,” Janet reminded him.
    As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
    “That must be Mrs. Chapman. She’s right on time.” Janet reached for the door handle. As she predicted, their neighbor was standing on the threshold, with Baxter by her side. The moment Janet opened the door, Baxter bolted inside.
    “Hello, dearie!” Mrs. Chapman chirped and gave Janet a peck on the cheek.
    “Hi Mrs. Chapman. Baxter, come here you!” Janet reached down to pick up Baxter, but he slipped right through her fingers, barking excitedly and circling around her feet.
    “Great to see you, Mrs. Chapman,” Dennis greeted his neighbor as he rushed to the front door. “Baxter, buddy!” He spread out his feet like a goalie, ready