“Positive. I remember because I was debating whether to wear those shoes or my red ones.” She leaned against the counter, studying me with those sharp eyes of hers. “Why? You don’t think Xavier had something to do with this, do you?”
Everything in me wanted to defend him. To say no, absolutely not, Xavier would never do something like that. But I couldn’t let my personal feelings interfere with an investigation. That was exactly the kind of thing that could cost me my badge.
“I’m just gathering information,” I said carefully. “Need to establish a timeline.”
But even as I said it, my mind was racing through the details. Xavier was from New York, a city where designer bags and expensive shoes were commonplace. He’d know what they were worth, how to sell them. He’d been at every single location where items had gone missing. He had access to Dolly’s apartment.
And he’d been alone for stretches of time at the Turner Ranch. At the Baker Ranch. Hell, he knew every detail of the investigation so far.
My stomach twisted into knots.
“You want to go up and take a look?” Dolly asked, pulling out a set of keys. “See if there’s anything else missing or any sign of how they got in?”
“Yeah,” I said, standing up and leaving the coffee untouched. My appetite had vanished entirely. “Let’s do that.”
I followed her through the back of the diner and up a narrow staircase to her apartment above. It was a cozy space, decorated in that same retro style as the diner below. Everything was neat and organized, nothing obviously out of place.
She led me to her bedroom, opening the closet door wide. “The bag was right there on that shelf,” she pointed. “And the shoes were on the floor, right next to my other heels.”
I examined the closet carefully, taking photos with my phone. No signs of disturbance, no scuff marks or indication that someone had rifled through her belongings.
“Are you certain that the last time you saw them was before the party?” I asked, trying desperately to find an alibi for Xavier without her noticing. “You didn’t see them when you got ready for bed?”
“I…” She faltered for a moment. “I’m not too sure, honestly. It was a long night, and I had more than one drink.”
“Let’s retrace your steps then,” I offered. “That might jog your memory. Tell me exactly what you did last night after the party ended. Don’t leave anything out.”
Dolly leaned against the doorframe, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember. “Well, the party wrapped up around midnight. The strippers left first. Xavier saw them out, I think. Then everyone else started trickling out. Logan and Eli helped me clean up a bit before they left.”
“And Xavier?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral even though my heart was pounding.
“He left right after you did,” she said, and I felt my stomach clench. “Maybe five minutes later? Said something about needing to get back to the ranch since he had an early start in the mornin’.”
But he hadn’t gone back to the ranch. He’d come to my house. Been with me all night.
“And when did you come upstairs?” I prompted, making notes even though my hand was starting to shake.
“Not long after that. Maybe twelve-thirty? I locked up downstairs, came up here, got ready for bed.” She walked over to her dresser, gesturing. “I definitely remember putting myjewelry away in this box. But I didn’t open the closet again. Just changed into my nightgown and went to bed.”
So, the items could have been taken anytime between when she last saw them before the party and this morning. That was a window of at least twelve hours, maybe more.
“Did you hear anything unusual during the night? Any sounds from downstairs or up here?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Slept like a baby, actually. Those drinks Logan made were stronger than I thought.”
“You didn’t get up at all?”
“Not that I recall.”
I walked around the bedroom, examining the windows. All locked from the inside. No scratches on the locks, no signs of tampering. Whoever had taken those items had either picked the lock downstairs or...
Or they’d had a key.
“You’re sure Xavier didn’t give the keys back to you already?” I asked one last time, desperation coloring my voice.
“Not that I know,” she replied, tilting her head. “You don’t think that Xavier could have?—”
“I’m not thinking anything yet,” I lied, even though my mind was screaming at me that all the evidence was pointing in one direction. “I’m just following the facts.”
