Seth parks the rental car along the curb and exits. The late-morning sunlight shines brightly overhead, a crisp chill in the air, but still warmer than Nashville. Hands in his pockets, he walks down the street. Headed to an address he’s memorized by now.
Only it’s not Lacey’s address.
That errand’s already handled. Easier than he thought, too. The rental company didn’t order the wrong linens, just sent over the wrong ones. Seth waited while they found them and made sure they sent them to the address provided.
He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be Lacey Sutton’s errand boy, but he’ll do it if it means keeping her healthy, happy, sane. He could see her, during her conversation with Autumn, about to crack.
Lacey needs him. And he ain’t about to let her down.
At the entrance of the alley, Seth hesitates and then steps inside. He drags in a pained breath, feeling like someone’s punched him in the stomach. He got the address where Lacey was mugged off the copy of the police report, and being here where she was hurt, left for dead, is about ready to wreck him.
He wants to find the guy. Hunt him down and annihilate every bone in his body.
Steadying himself against his dark thoughts, Seth scans the surroundings. Two dumpsters at the back, brick walls on either side, graffiti, tall windows. He turns in a circle, then crouches, his eyes on the dirty ground, searching for gold, for that necklace Lacey loved.
He hunts for a good twenty minutes, then stands and swears. It’s not here. He had hoped maybe the mugger dropped it in the scuffle, but no such luck.
Seth exits the alley, slapping his pockets for the keys, when his eyes drift. Across the street is a drab strip mall, as only LA can do. The type with an unimpressive appearance, but behind-the-scenes good bars, hip restaurants, hell, even churches, but in Seth’s case, a pawnshop.
Quickly, he crosses the street and enters the shop. Above him blinks a screaming neon PAWN PAWN PAWN sign. The front desk is empty, a small TV scrolling through black-and-white images. Guitars on the walls. Ancient VHS tapes in a cardboard box on the floor.
Seth moves to the front desk, his eyes on the glass jewelry case.
He knows the deal with pawnshops. Way back in the day when he was deep into his addiction, he pawned his fiddle to get the money to score another hit. After Luke learned what he was doing, saw that Seth was playing on some shit cheapie, he went and bought his fiddle back for him, spending hard-earned money from his own pocket. Money they didn’t have back then.
Just another goddamn time he let his brother down.
Another goddamn reason he doesn’t deserve Luke.
Seth forces the memory from his mind and clears his throat, glancing around the pawnshop. “Hello?”
From behind the wall comes the faint sound of music. Seth listens. Strings.
A rail-thin kid appears from out of the back room, wearing a Yoda T-shirt, tugging earbuds out of his ears. “Hey, man. Help you?”
“Yeah, I’m lookin’ for a necklace.”
“Aren’t we all.” The guy settles into his chair. “What kind? Diamond. Emerald. Opal.”
“One sec ...” Seth pulls out his cell phone and finds Lacey’s Instagram account. He chooses an image of her from last Christmas. Zooms in on the necklace. “See this?” He shows the kid his phone.
“How can you miss her?” the kid says, giving Seth a sly smile like they’re here to ogle Lacey.
“Not her,” Seth bites out, zooming in even further so the kid can’t see Lacey’s face. “The necklace. Have you seen it? Had it in here?”
To his credit, the kid gives it a careful look. He shakes his head. “Sorry. Haven’t seen it.”
“Would you call me?” Seth asks, reaching for a pen and one of the business cards that are on the counter. “If you get it in? It’s important.”
The kid takes the card. Examines the chicken scratch scrawl with Seth’s phone number. “Sure thing, Seth.”
“Thanks.” He turns to go, pauses, eyes the kid. “You work with that noise goin’ all day?” He points to the wall behind the row of guitars where a faint warble of a banjo sounds.
The kid grins. “It’s not so bad. Even if it is country.”
Seth rolls his eyes.
He exits the pawnshop, stepping into the parking lot to take in the neighboring sign above. The Blue Cowboy. The name sounds familiar. He frowns, trying to place it.