The O'Connells Box Set

Chapter 28

Marcus’s cell phone was ringing again, but he ignored it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a dark cloud hanging heavy over him, having him snapping at everyone.

He parked in front of a pawn shop in the center of town and took in the car parked next to him, which looked an awful lot like Harold’s Kia. He stepped out of his sheriff’s cruiser and spotted Harold’s cruiser parked on the other side of the Kia. He was already shaking his head, seeing the baby car seat and the diaper bag.

“f**k!”

The breath he pulled in did nothing to cool the fire in his belly, which had him wanting to yell and wring his sister’s neck. She was really stepping into his business, and he wasn’t going to stand for it.

He pulled off his shades and tucked them in his shirtfront before yanking harder than he normally would on the commercial glass front door of the pawn shop. Harold was standing there with Suzanne, who had his nephew snuggled in a baby carrier she was wearing. She rocked from side to side, patting his bottom, and the minute her eyes locked on to his, he could feel she was ready to go another round. It was just something about her face. He wondered whether she had any idea of the way her lips pulled back to show her teeth. He could see the snarl just for him.

He let himself take in the shop, the large man behind the glass counter with a heavy white beard and unsmiling dark expression. Marcus said nothing as he lifted his gaze to Harold, who had the lost look he knew only Suzanne could put on his face.

“You need to take your wife home,” he said. He knew he was going down a road that could have him and Suzanne on the outs, but he wasn’t in the mood to play nice with her. He stopped right in front of Suzanne, looking down at her. “I’m not kidding, Suzanne. I want you out of here now.”

“This is a free country, and neither of you can tell me what to do. So get that through your head right now,” she said.

Marcus took a step closer and leaned down to Suzanne, then said in a low voice, “Don’t push me.” He really emphasized the words and could feel the fire blazing in his eyes.

Suzanne didn’t flinch, though, and he knew her stubborn streak well. She would really dig in and stand her ground. He stepped back and took in Harold, who angled his head as if he had something to say as well.

“You find anything? Was she here?” Marcus said.

“As I was just telling your deputy, my husband,” Suzanne said, “before you walked in here throwing your weight and arrogance around, I’ve already talked to the owner. Hey, Randall, can you tell these two what you told me about the jewelry I was asking about?” she called out over her shoulder to the big man behind the counter.

She really was stepping into it. He was about to reach for his sister’s arm and walk her out of the pawn shop when the heavyset man, who didn’t appear as if he ever smiled, shrugged.

“Jewelry doesn’t often make its way in here, but every time someone asks, I send them next door to the jewelry store,” he said. “If you’re looking for quick cash, I offer only twenty, thirty percent of value, but Lowes jewelry store consigns all the time, and the markup…” He gestured wide.

Marcus just stared. This wasn’t what he’d expected, and, worse, he could feel the smugness of his sister’s gaze burning into him, likely gloating. He knew she expected him to say “Way to go, Suzanne!” but there was no way in hell he would. He fought the urge to look at her.

“You talk to them next door?” he said to Harold, whose large arms were crossed over his chest, his gaze lingering on Suzanne.

“Not yet. I got here just before you…”

Suzanne cleared her throat. “Randall, do you want to tell them about the woman who came in here, inquiring how much you would give her for a brooch that had diamonds and emeralds, an antique one? You said it was pretty rare.”

His jaw tightened, and he flicked his gaze to his sister, who was standing firmly in police business. He reached for her arm, and her gaze flicked right to his hand as he said, “Come over here,” and moved them back so they were out of hearing range of the guy behind the counter.

“Hands off, Marcus,” Harold said in a low warning voice he hadn’t heard before. Then he shot his wife a hard glance and said, “And you, stop butting heads with Marcus. Whether you like it or not, Suzanne, Marcus is the sheriff, and this is an active investigation. You’re not a cop.”

“But I’m the one—”

“Uh-uh,” Harold cut in. Whatever passed between them, Marcus realized maybe Harold actually could get through to his pigheaded, stubborn sister. “Suzanne, I get that you want to help, but this isn’t helping.”

“Really? Because both of you have tunnel vision. Are you not even interested in the woman, the brooch? I was standing there, listening to the jerk who runs Better Way Homecare yelling about the missing jewelry, ruby earrings, a diamond ring, and a brooch that had been in the family a long time. You don’t seem even the least bit curious that Randall has now told me about an antique brooch that was worth something. That isn’t an everyday occurrence. I mean, how many people have something like that?”

Marcus shook his head and stepped around Suzanne over to Randall, who stood there, watching them. He wore a navy T-shirt, and his weight filled a pair of blue jeans. His eyes were an odd shade of brown.

“You had a woman come in here with a brooch, an antique?”

The man hesitated, and for a second, he wasn’t sure he would answer. Maybe it was cops he didn’t want to talk to. “As I told Suzanne, I don’t see things like that walk through this door. It was a solid fifteen karats, rare beyond belief. I’m not a jeweler, but with the stones, diamond and emerald, it was worth something. I told the lady I wouldn’t give her anywhere near what it’s worth, so if she needed quick cash, I could give her five hundred, but then I’d consign it next door at Lowes, and I’d likely get a few thousand, easy. Could be more. I gave her the option, and she thanked me and left. I can only assume she went next door to consign it.”

Marcus didn’t pull his gaze. “So it was just a brooch, no earrings, or a diamond ring? She came in when?” He took in the glass case in front of him, which held a number of expensive watches, a trumpet, and antique revolvers. He looked up for the camera on the wall.

“Yesterday, don’t remember exactly when, and she only asked about a brooch. If she had other jewelry, she didn’t say, because she left and, as I said, likely went next door.”

So Reine had tried to pawn it.

“You know who this woman was? Could you identify her? I know you have cameras.” He angled his head at the one on the wall behind Randall and wondered if the man would lie to him. Marcus walked down the case, seeing some gentlemen’s rings, some gold cases, an old flask, cameras, and a guitar behind the cabinet—an assortment of things.

“Don’t think she was that old, dark hair, light eyes. Camera’s been on the fritz, so I can’t help you there. As I said, I didn’t buy any jewelry.”

Marcus took in the camera mounted on the wall again and its position to the door, to any customers who walked in and talked to him. Again, he took in the watches and gentleman’s rings in the front case. “So you never buy jewelry?”

The man wasn’t quick to answer but didn’t look away. Marcus always knew when someone was hiding something, and anyone coming into a pawn shop had sunk to desperation and was likely hiding something.

“I didn’t buy her brooch, but she looked desperate, not the typical shithead that walks in here. I felt for her. Didn’t say I don’t buy jewelry, as you can see. But, again, I offer way below value. What you see here is the result of someone needing fast cash for rent, food, then hoping to buy it back.”

“Buy it back, with this kind of markup? That would work out to more than a hundred percent interest, right? But let’s talk about the stolen items and the fact that you’re supposed to report anything you bring in. Are you telling me everything I see here has been reported to us?”

The man sighed and pulled open a drawer behind him to lift out an old binder, which he dropped on the counter. As he pulled out a sheet of paper, a handwritten list, and held it out, Marcus noted he’d said as little as possible.

“The list up to yesterday,” Randall said. “And just FYI, Sheriff, stolen items are sold online these days, not at pawn shops.”

Marcus reached for the paper and flicked his gaze up. “You know you’re required to have a working camera.”

Randall only inhaled. Marcus couldn’t remember having dealt with him before and knew he wasn’t going to volunteer anything.

“Have it operating by end of day,” he warned, then walked over to Harold, taking in his pissed-off sister with the baby in the snuggly. Marcus held out the paper to Harold. “Give this to Colby. See that he checks the database, too. I’m going next door. Seems Reine did come in here. She lied right to my face, damn her.”

He kept walking to the door, Harold behind him, followed by his sister, and they stood out on the sidewalk, taking in the jewelry store next to the pawn shop, diamond rings glittering in the window.

“And I don’t believe him for one second about the camera,” he said. “Get the footage, take a look at it, and find out what he’s hiding.”

Suzanne, to her credit, said nothing.

Marcus shook his head as he looked at her. “Go home,” he said. “I can see you’re furious at me over this situation with Reine. You think I don’t feel for her? But she did it, and this isn’t helping. She’s going back to jail. She made the choice to steal from a vulnerable old woman, and it doesn’t get any lower than that, in my eyes.”

“Marcus…”

“Randall described her, dark hair, light eyes, not that old. You already heard that. I’m going in the jewelry store next, but you need to stop challenging me, Suzanne. Go home, please. No one is happy about this, but the last thing I want to be doing is butting heads with you over Reine, because it’s killing me that I have to find the words to tell my little girl, Eva, that her mother is back in prison because she stole something. So this here, with you, I don’t want it.” He knew he sounded like an asshole, and he flicked his gaze over to Harold, who was about ready to step in between them.

Marcus turned and walked into the jewelry store, seeing the many glass cases.

An older woman in a pencil skirt and a white frilly blouse smiled and reached out to him. “Sheriff, what can I do for you?”

He took in the glitter of the place and gestured with his thumb in the direction of the pawn shop. “Looking for some stolen jewelry. Was told by the pawn shop owner next door that a woman came in yesterday, dark hair, trying to sell off a brooch. He indicated you do consignment, and he sent her over here?”

Her brow knit, and he wondered whether the big O of her mouth was panic or surprise. “Well, yes, I do consignment on jewelry if it’s of value. You said a brooch?”

He stared at the rings, the necklaces, the stones, knowing he’d never be able to afford most things there. “Yes. Did a woman come in here yesterday, dark hair, short, about yay high?” He gestured about how tall Reine was.

The slender older lady walked in heels down to the end of the counter and shoved a key into the lock to open it. “Are you telling me it’s stolen?”

He nodded, seeing she wasn’t smiling anymore as she pulled a tray of jewelry out and set it on the glass top.

“Yesterday afternoon, a woman said she needed to sell off her jewelry, a brooch that had been in her family a long time. It’s fifteen karat gold, Georgian, rare, not something we see often. With the cut of the diamonds, the emeralds, I told her she could get likely six or seven thousand. The earrings were worth not as much, pushing three thousand, maybe…”

“She had earrings too? Ruby, by any chance?”

She flicked her gaze up to him and pulled out a second tray, then pointed to earrings with pear-shaped rubies. “She had a ring, too. I told her it would fetch close to thirty-five thousand.”

Whoa!

That was exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Reine’s fate was sealed, and he didn’t know how he could explain this to Eva.

“So it’s stolen?” she said. “I didn’t see that coming, I suppose you’ll need to take them?

He didn’t miss the edge in her voice, the same frustration he was feeling. “Yeah, sorry, it will be evidence.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a baggy, then gestured to a tissue box. “Can you hand me a tissue?”

She held out the box, her face questioning, and Marcus pulled out a tissue and used it to pick up the brooch, the earrings, and the glittery diamond ring and toss them in the bag. “Keeping my prints off. I’ll send one of my deputies down to lift your prints, too. I’ll need you to come down to the station and give a statement. The DA will need it for the charges.”

“Any chance I will get my money back?”

He held the bag and stared at the woman. “Money? You gave her money?”

The woman shrugged. “Yes, I advanced her a thousand dollars on the consignment. She was desperate.” She opened a drawer behind her and pulled out a big book, which she slid around so he could see the name, signature, and amount.

He took in the log of a thousand dollars and the signature. “The name you have down here…” He put his finger under the black lettering, and the older woman angled her head.

“Valerie Donnelly,” she said, nodding, and Marcus just stared at her.

“You said her name was Valerie, not Reine Colbert?”

The woman pulled a face. “She wrote her name down and signed. Is there a problem?”

He reminded himself to breathe in as he considered what he was looking at. So she’d used a different name. She’d been thinking. He glanced back to the door, seeing Suzanne and Harold talking in front of the Kia. He turned back to the woman he thought owned the shop. “You don’t by any chance have a surveillance camera, do you?”

She pointed behind her right shoulder. “Sure do, Sheriff. It even works.”

“That’s good, because I’m going to need to see the footage of this woman.”

She nodded and gestured to him. “Okay, you can do that just as soon as you come back with a warrant.”