“Well, fuck. Let’s go rightnow.”
We hurriedly dressed, grabbed Lindsay’s necklace, and dashed downstairs. Hunter was careful to check his car before we got in it, just in case my crazed stalker had followed me here and stuck another bomb beneath it, and when we knew we were safe, we peeled off the estate and headed for Silvercreek as fast as we possiblycould.
“I can’t believe we only justthought of this,” Hunter said, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turnedwhite.
“Me neither,” I said, cheeks flushing. “We should’ve gone to the shop as soon as I told you how I ended up with thenecklace.”
Towering pine and birch trees whizzed by the windows in a blur as we sped along the stretch of road that led toward Silvercreek. The woods finally gave way to flat fields and buildings, and five minutes later, we pulled onto the town’s mainavenue.
“It’s over there,” I said, pointing toward a dilapidated building across the street. It was flanked by a closed-down hair salon and a hardwarestore.
A bell dinged above our heads as we pushed the door open and headed inside. The place was filled with rows and rows of shelves, littered with all sorts of household appliances. On the left, a long glass display cabinet filled with jewelry made up the main counter. Behind it, the wall was lined with guitars andguns.
A tall bearded man in a plaid shirt stepped out from a back room and regarded us with a surly expression. “Can I help you?” heasked.
“I hope so.” I stepped up to the counter. “What can you tell us about thisnecklace?”
As I spoke, Hunter pulled out Lindsay’s necklace and lay it on thecounter.
The man raised his brows. He grabbed a pair of glasses from beside the cash register, slipped them on, and leaned down to examine the diamonds and emeralds. “What exactly do you wanna know?” he asked, glancing back up at us a moment later. “I’m guessin’ you already know what this thing isworth.”
“We want to know who sold it to you lastyear.”
The man’s brows met in the middle. “Huh?”
“My mom bought it from you last year,” I explained. “But I want to know who originally sold it to you. I figured you might have records or surveillance images of them. Or maybe you remember what they looklike?”
He grunted. “Sorry, kid. Your mama’s either lyin’ or rememberin’wrong.”
“What do youmean?”
“I mean I don’t know nothin’ about this piece,” he said, pushing the necklace back across the counter. “Never seen it before in mylife.”
“But… that’s impossible. She told me she bought ithere.”
The man let out a snort. “I might look stupid, but I’m not. I can tell that piece is worth at least fifty grand. Probably more. And in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in fuckin’ Silvercreek,” he said. “Nobody around here can afford shit like this. So even if someonedidtry to hock this off to me, I’d assume it was stolen and call thecops.”
“Are you absolutely sure you didn’t buy it from anyone?” Hunterasked.
The store owner narrowed his eyes at him. “Like I just said to your little girlfriend, I’m not a dumbass. I run a tight ship here. That means everything that comes in is catalogued. So if you don’t believe me, I can check my records to prove this necklace has never been through here.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m tellin’ you, though, I’ve never seen itbefore.”
Hunter leaned on the counter, matching his gaze. “Check therecords.”
The man grunted and disappeared into the back of the store. He returned with a huge blue file and dropped it on the counter with a loud thump. “I keep everything in this book, on my computer, and in here,” he said, tapping the side of his head with one finger. “So I know I’m right. But feel free to have a look. I’ll wait for myapology.”
I opened the file and leafed through it until I found the 2018 records. “It should be around here,” I said, flipping over two more pages. “These are the September records from lastyear.”
Hunter ran a finger down the column on the far left. “There’s something in the jewelry category here,” hesaid.
The store owner scoffed. “Keep reading,” he said. “You’llsee.”
“He’s right. It’s an old engagement ring,” I muttered to Hunter, reading the rest of the entrydetails.
“Yup. Still got it, if you’re interested,” the owner said, smirking as he pointed to a gold ring in the displaycabinet.
I ignored the comment and scanned the pages again and again. After the fifth readthrough, I gave up. The man was right—Lindsay’s necklace had never been in thisshop.
“Thanks for letting us check,” I said stiffly, closing the book. My heart was thumping so hard I thought it might beat right out of mychest.