Clearly the baseball and bottle were not hidden in anyone’s desk drawers. If they weren’t back the next day, though, he would have to report them to HR and to Perry. Anything that went missing had to be looked into. Maybe the cleaning people took his stuff when they were alone in the office at night. But he had a hard time believing that. The same Russian family had been cleaning at Channel 9 for twenty years, and while he didn’t know all of their names, they would always say hello and be friendly. They were kind, hardworking people who had never stolen anything to his knowledge. Plus, there were way more valuable things to steal if you were left unsupervised at night in a TV station. Microphones and cameras and lights and Emmy statuettes and other awards that people kept on their desks or Perry lined up on a shelf for all to see.
The Russian family might not know the value of that baseball either, he reasoned. He had tried to discuss the Tigers a few times with the father and son during the height of a playoff run but the duo had just looked at him quizzically. The baseballwasvaluable, signed by Kirk Gibson, one of the Tigers’ most well-known players. Matthew had once looked up the price on an auction site—not that he would ever sell it, he was just curious—and it was more than $600, especially in the pristine condition it was in, kept in that glass box for all of these years. As for the water bottle, ones with the Channel 9 logos were everywhere if someone wanted to steal one. But now both were missing. And something was fishy. Quickly he went to his phone and the weather-team text chat they all shared.
Has anyone by chance seen my signed Kirk Gibson baseball I keep on my desk or my water bottle with the Pistons sticker? They’re both missing.
The typing bubbles started going right away. Abby was first, as he could have predicted.
No, I haven’t. That’s terrible though. I will keep an eye out.
Chuck was next.
Dude, I have no idea but I’ll also look for them.
It took over an hour before Faith responded. Matthew was already home when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and read her words, or rather word:
Nope
That was it. And he knew that this was her doing. If it was revenge for the lipstick, he could not be sure. But she had taken his baseball, maybe his water bottle. He could feel it in every cell of his body. And if that’s how she wanted to play, then it truly was game on.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kelly
April
Kelly and Joel didn’t get dressed up very often. Too much work, Kelly always thought, and they were casual people. But one of Joel’s coworkers was getting married, and given that it was at a country club on a lake, Kelly decided to go all out.
She got a fresh mani-pedi and booked an appointment for her hair to be styled in an updo the morning of the event. Her freshly pressed dress was a low-cut black cocktail gown that she had chosen so that some of her grandma’s rare jewelry would really stand out against it. Joel was planning to wear his best suit.
It was an important night for Kelly. She kept hoping Joel would pop the question. He hadn’t, which was starting to worry Kelly. Was he bored with her? They had talked of possible marriage some time ago but he had been all quiet since then and she was afraid to bring it up. If he said he didn’t want to marry her anymore, her heart would be broken. She was getting older, was almost even into what they called “advanced maternal age” (over thirty-five), and she might want a child. But she desired a husband first and Joel was her guy, there was no question about that.
Kelly was hoping that being at a wedding would jolt him to action, and she planned to look like a knockout for it to happen. She fantasized about him not being able to take his eyes off her, sweeping her across the dance floor and whispering “We’re next” in her ear. Or maybe she’d catch the bouquet and all of his friends would tease him and he’d blush and get down on one knee right then and there, surprising her with a sparkling ring he had hidden somewhere as the wedding guests cheered and cried.
Speaking of jewelry, Kelly couldn’t wait to wear some fancy items that night. Her grandmother’s and mother’s jewelry was an eclectic mix of expensive brooches, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and rings, with rare stones and intricate metalwork. She once had it all appraised, and the entire lot was worth over $100,000. Not that she would ever sell.
Kelly had her mind’s eye on a necklace and earring set from her grandma and a bracelet and oversized ring or two from her mom. She kept all of the items in a velvet-lined wooden jewelry box on her dresser. The tacky jewelry box Faith had given her at the overpriced restaurant was long gone, handed to Goodwill.
When Kelly got home from the hairdresser she went straight to the mirror in the bedroom and admired the updo; the bun looked like a flower, and thin wisps hung down the sides. She would work on her makeup last so that none of it smeared when she put on the black dress.
She laid the dress across the bed and pulled her best Jimmy Choo stiletto heels out from the closet and set those next to it. Then she got out a pair of tummy-tightening underwear, some Spanx to really keep things firm, a push-up bra, and opaque black pantyhose. Finally, she walked to the dresser for the jewelry.
Opening the lid, she was excited to see the jewels for the first time in a while, but instead her body went into a state of shock.
There was nothing in there, nothing. The red velvet sat empty; there were outlines of little imprints of rings, but that was it. Her hand flew to her mouth. She staggered backward.
Joel was downstairs and she wanted to call for him but her throat felt as if it wouldn’t function. It was like one of those dreams where you need to scream but can’t muster more than a whimper. Her mind began to race. Where could the jewelry be?
Her first thought was that maybe she was crazy. Had she moved it somewhere and forgotten she did it? No, that was definitely not it. Joel had been urging her to get a safe-deposit box at some point, but they hadn’t done it. Although Kelly rarely looked at the jewelry in the box, it comforted her knowing it was there. It was all she had left of her grandma and mom, both killed in the same car accident by a drunk driver when Kelly was in high school.
Seeing the jewelry gone, she thought she might throw up, and she swallowed down a rush of bile. Her next thought, as much as she hated it to be, was Joel. Her eyes narrowed. Had her boyfriend taken the jewelry? Pawned it off? What could be happening? It felt as if the floor beneath her suddenly tilted, like one of those crazy carnival rides she loved as a kid. Everything she thought she knew was a certainty in her life—most importantly that she was dating a moral human being—was now askew. Spots began to dance in front of her eyes, and she realized in a sharp panic that she probably wasn’t breathing in enough air.
Steady, Kelly, steady.She made her way slowly to the bed and sat down next to her black cocktail dress. The thought of lying down came to mind, but she realized that would ruin the updo.
The wedding. Would they even go? How could she go anywherewith Joel? It had to be him who took the jewelry. No one else was ever in their bedroom.
Her mind flipped back to the last time she had opened the jewelry box. It was the day after she met with Faith, the day after Joel suggested giving the Etsy box created by Emilio to Goodwill. All of the talk about the jewelry made her want to see it again, to touch it, to feel close to her mom and grandma, so she had taken some time that afternoon to let her fingers gently wander over the stones and metals, the gems and patterns. A brooch with a woman’s face intricately carved into it was one of her favorites, although brooches were so old-fashioned she rarely wore it. Still, the details of the woman’s face, hair, and clothing were so carefully etched in ivory, it made her smile, thinking of her grandma wearing this, perhaps to some dance. Maybe it was even the one where she met Grandpa.
But now everything was gone, 100 percent gone. She took a ragged breath and mustered the strength to call out, “Joel?”
