“Easy, mister,” Leo said, reaching out to grab Vivian’s wrist and tug her toward him. “We’re going, okay? No need to get jittery with that thing.”
“Will you talk to just me?” Vivian asked, feeling desperate as Leo began to pull them both slowly toward the door. “I’m harmless, honest. Look at me, you can tell I got nothing on me. Please, I just need to ask one question.”
“Viv,” Leo warned, his voice low and urgent.
“Please,” she begged, planting her heels and meeting the man’s eyes. He looked as terrified as she felt. She wondered what had happened to him to make him keep a shotgun under his store’s counter. “I’m worried about a friend.”
The pawnbroker stared at her, considering, as he slowly lowered the gun. “He waits outside,” he said at last, jerking his chin at Leo.
Vivian nodded. “Get gone, pal,” she said, her attempt at a teasing tone getting stuck in her bone-dry throat. She swallowed. “I’ll be okay.”
“Viv—”
“Please,” she repeated, turning her head just enough to meet his eyes.
He looked miserable and furious, but at last he nodded. He glanced back at the pawnbroker. There was a clear warning in his voice as he said, “I’ll be just outside. And she’s real important to me.”
The pawnbroker jerked his head again. “Outside.”
The menacingly cheerful bell rang out once more as Leo left, and then Vivian was on her own. She swallowed. “Thanks, mister. I won’t take up much of your time.”
He eyed her for a tense moment, then put the shotgun back under the counter. “Ask your question.”
Vivian tried to smile, but the expression got stuck halfway and her lips barely twitched. “My friend’s fella gave her a necklace, and he said he bought it here. Is it possible to check whether he was telling the truth?”
The pawnbroker narrowed his eyes at her. “Her young man gives her jewelry and this makes you worry? Why?”
“She thinks he mighta lied,” Vivian said, telling part of the truth in the hope that it would be more convincing than an outright lie. “She’s worried he stole it.”
“If your friend worries her young man is a thief and a liar, she shouldn’t be stepping out with him, no matter where the necklace came from,” the pawnbroker said, starting to turn away.
“All right,Ithink he stole it,” Vivian admitted, desperate. “I knew someone who had a necklace like the one he gave her, but someone stole it. It has me worried for her.” She met the pawnbroker’s eyes. There was a chance, if he had the transaction recorded, that whoever had stolen the necklace had pawned it, and Abraham buying it for Bea had been nothing but a coincidence. Either way, she had to know. “Please.”
She held her breath while he stared at her. At last, he pulled a red handkerchief out of his pocket and ran it across his forehead. “Gold necklace, you said? Locket with a rose on it?”
“Yes,” Vivian said, nodding. “Pretty little thing. Simple. Not cheap, but nothing real fancy either. The rose was kinda… like this?” She held her hands out in the shape of a wide cup, like a blossom that had fully opened. “Does that sound familiar?”
“No,” the pawnbroker said at last. “I don’t recall such a thing. But let me check my records.” He gave her a stern look. “You don’t move one inch, you hear?”
“Yessir.” Vivian nodded quickly.
He disappeared under the counter for barely a moment before he emerged once more with a thick, heavy notebook. “When did your friend receive this necklace? Recently?” he asked, paging through it.
“This week,” Vivian said. “Though I can’t say for sure when he would have bought it.”
He glanced at her from under bushy eyebrows, then turned back to his records, flipping through several pages, then scanning the closely written columns. At last he lifted his head. “Well, your friend’s young man is lying about something. He didn’t buy anything like that here.”
Vivian felt as if her heart had suddenly stopped in her chest. “Are you sure?”
He gave her a sour look. “Yes. I keep very detailed records. I have to.”
“Right.” Vivian nodded rapidly, several times. What the hell wasshe going to tell Bea? And would her friend even believe her? “Thanks for your help, mister.”
She turned away, and as she did so, her eye was caught by the silver candlesticks she and Leo had been looking at earlier. She froze, staring at them for a moment, before spinning back around. “One more question?”
The pawnbroker’s jaw clenched, but he gave a single, curt nod. “One more.”
“The candlesticks there, the silver ones with the filigree and the grape vines and poppies. Who brought those in?”
