“Wait,” I said, dropping my fist to the table. The resounding thud echoed through the room.
I missed something. I perked up and paced quickly, circling the open space behind Sloan’s computer. We’d written off the jewelry box as a nonstarter, but it was the only other clue.
“You want to fill me in?” Sloan asked, staring at me as I paced.
“Her first day here, Cassandra stopped at the antique store downtown. She bought this gaudy-looking jewelry box. It’s the only thing she could guarantee was missing after the break-in. I figured we’d have to wait to know the extent of missing items until her brother returned.” It made sense.
“But what if by a weird chance they grabbed the jewelry box because that’s what they were after?”
Sloan perked up the longer I spoke. “Is she certain it was empty when she bought it?”
I shook my head slowly. “Cassandra said she checked the inside and nothing was in it, but she didn’t look for any secret compartments or something hidden.” From Sloan’s expression he liked my new ideas as much as I did.
Could the cheap ten-dollar antique find she bought for her brother’s wedding gift have caused all the drama? Was it really that simple?
Weirder shit happened in Pelican Bay.
I spent so much time looking for a connection between Cassandra and her brother I completely overlooked the possibility that it was her. Just not her direct fault.
“Let’s go,” Sloan said, wheeling his chair back and standing up.
I wanted him to stay on the computers and keep tracking the Grand Master for Ridge, but since it sounded as if they were close to picking up Cyrus Kensington, I rode shotgun as we stopped at the antique store.
He parked the black SUV in front of the antique store and cursed when we saw the lights out. The sun had just settled over the horizon, and darkness slowly crept into Pelican Bay. The streetlights turned on and from the sign on the door; it looked as if we missed the store closing by less than ten minutes.
“Let’s try and knock,” Sloan said and jumped out of the vehicle as if he had a newfound second wind. I followed behind him and let him knock on the glass door with the shop’s name etched into it.
We waited but nothing happened, so he knocked again. Finally, a light flickered from somewhere in the back and then a woman’s head popped out of the back room. She scowled at us and then trudged over to the door, using a key to unlock it. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I’m closed for the night. You should come back tomorrow.”
“We’re from Pelican Bay Security, and if you don’t mind, we’d like to ask a few questions regarding a sale you made a few days ago.”
She pinched her lips together and narrowed her eyes at us. Right when I thought she’d turn us away she nodded once and opened the door wider, letting us into the space.
“Are you the owner?” Sloan asked the woman as he followed her to the back where her register sat on a counter. We passed rows of shelves with old rusted-out wrought-iron pieces, which the old ladies loved to buy, spray paint, and hang on their walls for decorations. The antique store smelled of mothballs as we walked by a pile of old linens. The store was half high-grade items and the other half junk. Or all junk.
“I am. Josefina,” she said and then pulled up a stool sitting behind the cash register. “What can I help you with?”
Sloan leaned up against the counter, putting a smudge on her glass case. Her lips fell into an even tighter line as she stared at it, but he pretended not to notice. “You sold his girlfriend a jewelry box a few days ago.”
I took a spot standing beside Sloan, letting him lead the questioning. He and Spencer didn’t get out of the computer room often, so if he wanted to take charge, I was fine with it. It gave me time to watch her every reaction. Also, I loved the fact he called Cassandra my girlfriend.
She’d been my girlfriend once before, and the longer she stayed around, the more I wouldn’t mind calling her my girlfriend again.
Josefina pulled a big red binder from underneath her counter and slammed it on top of the glass case. “Do you remember when? I try to keep records of the vital items I sell. Anything that’s pricier.”
I groaned. “She found it on a shelf toward the back of the store.”
If someone asked me about it before the break-in, I’d have said it was a random piece of junk Cassandra selected to make an escape from Katy and me bombarding her on her first day here. She, however, promised it was a wedding gift for her new sister-in-law who had a collection.
Old dusty jewelry boxes were a weird thing to collect, but Pelican Bay also had Pearl Ashwood, who baked her own weed brownies once or twice a week, so I didn’t judge people often.
Josefina grinned. “Do you remember how much she paid for it?”
I shrugged. “Like ten bucks.” I never asked exact dollar amount, but I was certain that was a good rough estimate.
She shook her head. “I don’t remember the piece. It’s the height of tourist season and I sell tons of products over the summer months. I’m sorry.”
I tapped my fingers against the glass, smudging it up. Unlike when Sloan did it, she scowled at me rather than ignore the fingerprints. “Where do you get most of your items for the shop?”
