“Do you know where there might be a pawn shop in the area? Somewhere that buys jewelry?” I ask, handing the card to the young clerk.
She shrugs. “I’ve seen them around. But I can’t remember where.”
“What are you selling?” a gruff male voice asks from behind me.
45
Daniela
Iturn my head to get a look at the stranger. He’s about forty and doesn’t look like someone I want to share my personal business with. “Not selling anything today. Just checking prices.”
He nods, eyeing the gold chain around my neck—the one that holds my mother’s locket. “There’s a high-end pawn shop a mile down the road. Take a right on Fonte Taurina Street. You’ll see it as soon as you turn the corner.”
“Thank you,” I say, finishing my purchase.
“I can give you a ride.”
The clerk hands me a receipt with a concerned look. She needn’t worry—there’s no way I’m taking him up on the offer.
“That’s very kind, but I can use the walk.”
“The shop will likely be closed by the time you get there, if you walk.”
Then I’ll find another one. I’m not getting in a car with this guy. Something about him makes me uneasy.
“That’s okay. It’s not that important.”
I don’t spare him another glance as I hurry out of the store and up the street.
If you expect to find the shop open, you have to run, Daniela.I’m tired and don’t know if I can run anymore. But I do, although it’s more of a jog than a sprint.
I don’t stop to call Isabel, because then I’ll never make it.
It’s a good thing that I’m wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Otherwise, people might be alarmed at a woman running down the road. This isn’t the US, where it’s not unusual to see joggers on the sidewalk at all hours of the day and night.
Once or twice I glance over my shoulder to see if the man from the market followed me. I don’t see him, and there are too many people on the street for him to try something. The amount of pedestrian traffic is a double-edged sword as I enter a more residential part of the city. While it makes me feel safer in some regards, there’s also more of a chance I’ll be recognized.
When I get to Fonte Taurina, I turn the corner, and the shop is there, on the right, like the man said. But it doesn’t look open.Shit.
I walk up to the door, looking over my shoulder as I ring the bell. I wouldn’t be all that shocked to see Antonio stalking toward me.Stop, Daniela. Don’t feed the anxiety.
“Good evening,” a pleasant woman’s voice says through an intercom.
“Good evening. I have an antique locket that I’d like to show you.”
“You need an appointment.”
An appointment?Oh God.“My mother is dying. She’s in the US. I need to get there tonight, and I don’t have the money to purchase a last-minute plane ticket.” I’ve become quite the liar. It’s not something I like about myself, but it’s a necessary evil. “Please,” I beg.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help you tonight. If you’d like to make an appointment for ten o’clock tomorrow morning, maybe I can help you then.”
Make the appointment, just in case you can’t find another open shop.
“If you don’t have anything earlier, ten o’clock will be fine.”
“What’s your name?”
“Danielle DeRosa.” It’s the name that Leo set me up with before I left Porto, and it’s on my ID.