Chapter 4

Needless to say, Carmelita's mood had not improved much when Kitty woke her up at seven o'clock in the morning the next day. "Come on, Montoya…wakey wakey," Kitty cooed, smiling cleverly as she tried to shake Carmelita gently awake.

"Dios. Leave me alone," Carmelita grumbled into her pillow, rolling away from her. "…and, don´t call me Montoya."

Kitty smiled even more, shaking her head fondly as Carmelita showed no sign whatsoever of waking up. "So…you're gonna be that way, are you?" Kitty sighed. She went over to the window in Carmelita's room. "You do realize, of course, that you leave me no alternative other than to…" She grabbed the cord that worked the blinds on the window, yanking it up, allowing the bright morning sunshine to blaze in right into Carmelita's face.

"Kitty!" Carmelita groaned, her eyes still tightly closed, then pulled her pillow over her head and turned over. "I'm tired…" she whined, "leave me alone, would you?"

Kitty sighed again, her smile dimming. She headed over to where Carmelita still slept. "You know, for somebody's that a unrepentent workaholic, you really don´t seem all that eager to get to work this morning…"

Carmelita actually opened one lovely eye to look at her now. "Can you blame me, Kitty?" Carmelita groaned. "I used to love my work…solve crimes, bust the criminals, make society a better place, y'know? Now, what do I get? My male colleagues---and for most of them, I use the term very, very loosely---think nothing of ogling me the minute I enter the office. The ladies are either envious of me or contemptuous of me, spreading all sort of baseless and vile rumors about me. And, I'd say there's more than even money that Cooper´s latest escapade is headline news…so I'll no doubt have to endure yet another round of ranting and raving from my boss. Oh, and last but never least…you can bet your last franc, dear, that when I finally do get to my desk…I'm gonna find the Sapphire Rose…right there upon it…oh, along with that blasted raccoon's idiotic calling card too!" Carmelita groaned, folding her arm across her eyes. "So…no, Kitty… I really don´t feel like going to work today, thanks." Carmelita grunted then as she sat up, pivoting to put her feet down on the floor. "However…unfortunately, I don't have a choice. Criminals don't take holidays…so neither can I." Carmelita sighed, stretched fluidly, and then got up and headed for the bathroom.

"Poor Carmelita," Kitty murmured, shaking her head in sympathy for her friend. Now, Kitty might be a thorn in Carmelita's side from time to time, but she still cared about her.

Fifteen minutes to a half an hour later, Carmelita appeared in the kitchen of her home, her lustrous blue-black hair brushed, pulled back and in her trademark braid that she always wore, looking a great deal more awake now.

Kitty then made her own appearance, and moved over toward the front door, waiting for Carmelita. She didn't have long to wait before Carmelita appeared, looking as she usually did each day: determined, beautiful and dangerous. "Whoa…hey, it's no wonder all the guys at work ogle you, girl," Kitty said to her. "That top and those jeans would make any fella stare in awe."

Carmelita put the top on her travel cup of hot, piping coffee, then grinned and gave Kitty a 'shut up' kind of look. "Thanks…but clam up and get out in the car already, you," Carmelita grumbled.

Kitty smiled and did as she bade her too…a miracle of sorts in Carmelita's eyes.

Carmelita appeared moments later, locking the numerous locks on her front door, seeing Kitty out sitting in the passenger's seat of her red convertible. Carmelita moved over, got in, and sat down in her seat, giving Kitty a quick look before starting the car.

Now, just as soon as the bright red Peugeot convertible was finally out of sight, a turtle and a hippo emerged from behind the rhodedendren bushes in front of the Fox household, where they had been laying hidden most of the morning. "Okay, they're finally gone," Bentley observed, brushing mulch from the front of his shirt. "Now, pal, we need to get ourselves in, get what we're here for, and get out…undetected." He reached into his bag, removed a professional-class lockpick and got to work on the numerous locks Carmelita had installed upon her door. "Sheesh," Bentley groaned, "talk about paranoid. Who in their right mind installs six deadbolt locks on just one door?"

Watching Bentley shake his head, Murray shrugged, pointing out. "Well, Bent, can you really blame her? I mean, just how many times has she gotten home only to finding something Sly's left there for her?"

Bentley said nothing, working on the second set of locks. Murray just continued on talking, paying no attention to his friend's silence. "Remember, pal…after that Clock-La mission? After Carmelita had finally gotten her name cleared of those charges filed against her? Sly had gone through all his clothing in the attic until he found one he thought would fit her…remember? And when Carmelita returned, she found them laying on her living room table with Sly´s card on top of them. Remember, Bent?"

"I remember, I remember, Murray! Sheesh, could you let a guy work in peace already?" Bentley grumbled as he opened the next to last lock.

"Ha, remember how Sly had written 'Just in case you should ever find police work isn't for you any more'," Murray said with a grin. "I swear you could of heard her screaming from five kilometers away!"

Bentley smiled just then, opening the final lock, swinging the door open. "Yeah, pal…I guess you're right about that. Now, I---wait!"

Murray had been about to walk inside, when Bentley held him back. "Wait a sec, pal. Let me check…just in case," he said and retrieved his laptop, firing it up to check one last thing. "Nope. No laser security. That's a relief. Well, Murray, come on…we need to be quick."

The two entered and thankfully found Carmelita's room quickly indeed. It didn't take the pair long to start their search. Murray checked her chest of drawers, while Bentley went through her armoire. Murray's eyes went wide as he found her lingerie drawer…then he grinned, turning and calling out to Bentley. "Hey, Bent! What about one of these?" he called out, his voice clever.

Bentley turned to see Murray, blushing, holding up one of Carmelita's brassieres with two fingers. Bentley blushed too, but barked softly, "Quit goofing around, and get to work!"

Murray put the bra away, chuckling at his friend's distress.

"Ah, this shoud do nicely," Bentley then said, finding one of Carmelita's leather jackets. He folded it up and stuffed into the canvas bag they'd brought along with them. "Oh, and a pair of these too, I think," he added, tucking in a pair of Carmelita's old jeans as well. He then turned to his friend. "C'mon, Murray…we got to get these to Madame Sing ASAP!"

They two left, making sure to close all the drawers and doors they had opened along the way. They also made sure to wipe down everywhere they had been, making sure they left no incriminating fingerprints. Bentley made sure that all the locks were locked just so…and so the two jumped into their van down the street, sure they had left no traces of their clever little crime.