Page 14 of A Dead End Fourth of July (Tiger’s Eye Mysteries #14)

Tess

Jack dropped me off at the shop at seven on Wednesday morning, so he could get a start on searching for Katherine. The Fox twins had texted him a tip that she'd been caught on camera at a gas station in Jacksonville, so he was driving up there.

I had plenty of work to do, including the rest of my tax filing, so I was glad to get an early start. I'd be on my own all day. After Jack had called and filled Eleanor and Bill in on what was up with Oscar, they'd decided to take him to the beach for the day.

And I bet his parents got an earful. I still can't believe they didn't bother to tell Bill and Eleanor what was going on with their divorce. Oscar's mom was Bill's daughter, for Pete's sake. I knew not all families were as close, or shared as much, as mine, but this was ridiculous.

I still hadn't decided what to do with the brooch.

First, I needed to retrieve it from my car and put it in the vault, but the minute I thought about that, a rush of customers came into the shop and kept me busy for an hour.

Then, my best friend Molly called for a catch-up chat, since we hadn't talked since the wedding.

She and her indie rock band were doing great, touring and juggling record company offers.

One of her bandmates kept switching between playing drums and playing bass, which was making Molly nuts, but, as she said, "Musicians! What are you gonna do?"

At lunchtime, I put out the Closed sign and ate the sandwich and slice of pie I'd brought from home while I finished up all urgent paperwork.

Then, feeling the tiniest bit smug for being so productive, I mopped the floor.

When it dried, I walked over to the door to unlock it and open the shop back up, only to find Cletus McKee standing on my porch.

The sight of him startled me and, worse, sent a nasty twinge of nausea through me when I got a flashback to watching him die.

I guess I took too long to speak, because he started fidgeting, but he kept the large, overly cheerful smile on his face.

"Hello, Cletus. I'm … surprised to see you here." Also surprising me, he was dressed up today, in an actual suit, which was a rare enough sight in Dead End to make me blink.

He glanced away from me, his smile faltering. "Yeah. Uh, yeah. About that. I'm sorry I was so rude yesterday. Shouting at you and all at Beau's."

Had he shouted at me? I'd been so far out of it, I had no memory of that. But I also had no memory of Jack carrying me out of the diner or even the drive home.

"Don't worry about it," I said finally, motioning him to follow me inside. "It's … understandable. You didn't change your mind?"

"What? Oh. No. No! I don't want to know what you saw. Ever," he said hastily, the words tumbling out with jagged haste.

"No worries. I've practically almost forgotten it already," I lied. I never, ever forgot what I saw or heard in my visions. But nobody had to know that.

Cletus blew out a breath and jammed his hands in his pockets, relief skittering behind his eyes. "Good. I mean, that's great for you. Probably those visions aren't all that reliable, anyway."

"Absolutely. What can I do for you? Looking for one of those ferrets after all?"

He glanced at the greatly diminished stock of taxidermied weasels and halfheartedly grinned.

"No, actually. I was hoping I could pawn something. An old ring I've had forever. I found it in a shop a lot like this one once, years ago, when I thought a relationship might turn serious." He gave me that fake smile again. "It didn't work out, obviously."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said automatically, but I felt a weird chill on the back of my neck. It didn't make sense, but I really didn't like this man. I thought about what Prism and Ollie had said but then pushed it out of my mind.

Cletus was here as a customer, and I was a business owner.

Simple enough.

"Pawn it? Or are you looking to sell? We do both, you know," I said, walking behind the counter to pull out the square of black velvet and jeweler's loupe.

"Oh, really?" He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but I could see the nerves he was trying to conceal in the tension he held in his shoulders.

Some people got nervous dealing with pawnshops, especially if they were there because of serious money problems, but I never judged anybody for needing a short-term cash infusion.

First, it would have been vastly hypocritical in my business.

Second, I tried not to judge people.

I wasn't always successful, but Uncle Mike and Aunt Ruby had brought me up to be a good person. I did my best, like most people. Which is why I felt guilty about my knee-jerk reaction to Cletus McKee.

"Actually, I'd be glad to sell it." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small jeweler's box that I could immediately see had some age to it.

The outside was embroidered cloth instead of the velvet coating of most modern boxes.

Also, there were worn spots on the corners, where the fabric was threadbare.

Finally, the box closed with a tiny carved wooden clasp.

If the ring went with the box, I might not be able to afford it.

When he opened the lid, I sighed and pointed to the velvet. "Please put it here."

Before I even picked up my loupe, though, I had to be honest. "Cletus, this is a beautiful ring. And I'll examine it, but at first glance it appears to be an Art Deco diamond in a platinum setting. I don't mean to pry, but can you tell me how much you paid for it?"

He shrugged. "I don't really remember. It was just one of those things, you know?"

No, I didn't know. I gave him a single incredulous look, and then I examined the ring. Sure enough, it was platinum, and the diamond was absolutely real. Not just real, but stunning and nearly flawless.

"This is Art Deco for sure," I told Cletus. "The jewelers of the time often set stones in platinum because of its strength and malleability. Also, it was trendy. Jewelers liked to create intricate designs like this braided band to serve as a glorious setting for gemstones."

"Huh," he said.

I looked up to see his eyes glazing over, which unfortunately sometimes happened when I evaluated a piece. I liked to give my findings to the customer as I discovered them, to walk them through the process, so there would be less indignation when I finally came up with a price to offer.

But this? This was way out of my league.

"Cletus, I'm sorry, but I can't buy this."

"Why not?" His eyes narrowed, and his smile vanished, which made me think the real McKee had shown up.

"Because I can't afford it," I said honestly. "This ring would probably run nearly $200,000 in a fine jewelry shop. I'm just a small business. I don't have anywhere near that kind of money to pay out for one ring."

A wave of dark red flushed his cheeks, but he clamped his lips against whatever response he'd been about to make and just stared at me, considering. Finally, he smiled again and shrugged.

"Well, I'm not sure your … small-town jewelry expertise is completely up to snuff," he said in a voice dripping with amused condescension so thick I could almost see it. "I didn't pay anywhere near that. It's probably worth about ten grand. Why don't you give me that, and we'll call it a day?"

I blinked. And then, when he looked down at the ring, I quickly glanced up at my in-shop cameras to be sure they were operating.

I didn't want to deal with any funny stuff he might plan to pull.

I couldn't imagine what that might be, but still.

This was not starting out on a basis I was comfortable with.

"Cletus. Mr. McKee."

His head snapped up when I used his last name.

"I'm sorry. Maybe you're right."

He wasn't right.

"Maybe it's not worth as much as I think."

It was worth exactly as much as I thought, and probably even more.

"But I can't, in good conscience, take this ring for less than it's worth. Let alone a figure so dramatically beneath what you could get at any upscale jeweler or even on the online auction sites."

He snatched the ring off the counter, stuffed it into the box, and jammed it into his pocket. "I tried that. Don't you think I tried that? They were all over me with 'provenance this' and 'investigate that.' I don't have provenance! I bought it at a pawnshop!"

Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes. "Nevertheless, I can't buy this. I'm sorry."

"What am I supposed to do now?" he muttered, but he was turning away from the counter, so I figured he was talking to himself more than to me.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

He whirled around and pointed at me. "I thought I could count on your small-town shop to do a favor for a Dead Ender, even if I don't live here anymore. Jeremiah would be ashamed of you."

Fury sent blood rushing into my face. "Oh, no, he wouldn't. Jeremiah Shepherd, may he rest in peace, is the one who taught me to work with integrity.

How dare you bring him into this like that?

Is there something hinky about that piece that you're trying to hide?

Figured a barely educated woman in a small-town shop would let you get away with whatever you're trying to pull here? "

I could hear my voice rising, but I was too mad to care. "I want you to leave my shop. Now. And don't come back."

"Happily," he snarled and stomped away.

But before he could open the door, it swung open, and Bubba McKee walked into the shop, trailed by six of his cousins. Five guys and Lola.

Lola was the mean one.

"We thought that was your car, you no-good weasel!" Bubba shouted.

And then they all piled on Cletus, curses and threats booming and fists flying.

I got out my shotgun.

When the sheriff arrived ten minutes later, the seven male McKees were lined up on my porch, glowering at each other and hissing threats.

Lola was inside, looking at jewelry.

Susan and Deputy Andy Kelly climbed out of the sheriff's car, and both of them shook their heads.

"You know, it was peaceful around here when you were gone on your honeymoon," Susan said when she reached the porch.

I had to laugh. "Right. Like it's my fault. Like any force on the planet could control a bushel of McKees out for trouble."

Sheriff Susan Gonzales was slim, gorgeous, and tough. A cross between Jenna Ortega and Rambo. Deputy Kelly, a few inches shorter than her and with blazing red hair and an intense crop of freckles, was just as tough.

They were also both my friends.

I filled them in on the altercation.

"Honestly, I don't care what they do to each other, but not in my shop."

"Damage?" Susan asked, giving them all a hard stare.

"Not as much as there would have been if I hadn't pulled out my shotgun. You can be sure I'll be sending an invoice, Bubba."

Bubba, who absolutely didn’t want to go to jail, nodded furiously. "Yes! Send it to me. I'll pay right away."

Lola walked out just then. "Hey, Tess. I'd like to buy those opal earrings if you can find your way to giving me a good price."

"I'd be more inclined if you hadn't just busted up my shop," I said dryly. "But hang on."

"Do you want to press charges?" Susan asked.

I'd had ten minutes to think about it, and I'd decided not to. "Nope. Family trouble is none of mine. But I'd like to invite all McKees to give me at least a week or two before they come back to the shop."

This time, it was me giving the hard stare, and I directed every bit of it at Cletus. "And you. Please consider yourself banned."

Susan caught the tension between the two of us but said nothing. She and Andy conferred, and then they sent all the McKees home.

"Gladly," Cletus growled, stomping off the porch. "I'll be perfectly happy to see the back of this worthless town after Friday and never come back."

"Dead End isn't worthless," I called after him, but he didn't even turn around.

I asked Bubba to hold on a second and then turned to Susan.

She wanted to know more, especially about why I was banishing Cletus, but a wave of customers drove in just then.

I told the sheriff and deputy I'd fill them in later, not sure I actually would, and then I sold Lola her earrings for twenty percent more than the tag.

"But—"

"Take it or leave it."

She took it, and then I pulled Bubba aside for a minute while my newcomers shopped. "Why?"

"Why what, Tess?" Bubba gave me his best innocent face, but I wasn't buying it.

"Why are you all so hot to beat up your cousin? What did he do?"

His face closed. "That's McKee business."

"Did he steal something?"

Bubba's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

I blew out a breath. "He had it here. Tried to sell it to me."

"What? That doesn't make sense, Tess." His forehead furrowed. "How could he try to sell you my cousin July?"

"What are you talking about?" we both asked each other at the same time.

Turned out, this branch of the family hated Cletus Senior for the money he stole from them with a fake investment scheme.

But they hated Cletus Junior for running off with his fourth cousin July when she was only seventeen years old and then breaking her heart and leaving her, pregnant and alone, in a motel in Iowa.

"That's pretty bad," I said. "I never met July. Is she okay?"

He shrugged. "She stayed in Iowa. Met a nice guy who owns a feed store, got married, and he adopted her kid. Then they had a few more together. She's happy as can be now. But Cletus deserved a beating for what he put her through back then."

He turned to go when a customer came over to the counter to ask me about a laptop, so I avoided telling him about the diamond ring.

Which still left me with the question:

Where did he get it?