Page 22

“That’s quite the story,” said Laura.

The office at the back of Reynolds’ Fine Jewelry was stuffy and silent. Both Alan and Laura Reynolds had listened as I repeated the story, as closely as I could to Ellie Feldman and Cass Temple’s claims, and explained how the ring had been stolen. Then they exchanged glances and remained silent, their faces indecipherable although I could imagine the whirring of their minds.

With tension hanging in the air between us, all Solomon and I could do was wait for them to make a decision. Behind us waited Dad, stoically silent, listening.

“All right,” said Laura, finally. “We’ll do it. Alan?”

“It’s the right thing to do,” said Alan. He ran a hand over his hair and blew out a breath, giving himself a small shake. “Gosh, it really does blow the mind. What a tragedy.”

Laura nodded. “It’s very different from what we were told but the engraved initials are correct. I didn’t put photos of that on the website. That, combined with the documents you showed us, clinches it for me. Oh, I feel just awful that I purchased the ring in the first place. Do you think the Michels knew? Could they have been a party to thefts like that?”

“Madame Michel wouldn’t have been born and her mother would have only been a young woman when she came into possession of it, but perhaps? Or her father Jean Dupuis, or their other associates? I found evidence of her parents at a ball with Nazi insignias so it’s a strong possibility they supported the regime and profited from it.”

“What revolting people,” said Laura, distaste etched on the downturn of her mouth. “I don’t want the ring back. We couldn’t possibly profit from something with that kind of history. No, when it’s found, we must return it to the rightful heirs.”

“I agree,” said Alan. “We’ll write off the purchase price somehow. I think we can get the money refunded between our credit card company and the insurers so we won’t lose out. The purchase was based on fraud.”

“I think that’s the end of my vintage purchasing too. I can’t risk making a mistake like that again,” said Laura with a worried glance at her brother before she turned to me. “I feel like I should have you investigate every last vintage piece we have, just in case. Thankfully, our stock is running low and now I don’t intend to purchase more.”

“The publicity might help put you at ease,” I said. “You would be seen as helping victims, which you want to do anyway, and it should prevent anyone from attempting to sell pieces like that to you in the future. Plus, it will make others more cautious.”

“She makes a good point,” said Alan, nodding along. “If it’s highly publicized that we value integrity when purchasing items, then no one will want to sell anything dubious to us, and the buyers will be reassured.”

“I still don’t think I’ll take the risk. I’d rather invest in upcoming designers like Jonathan. Do you really think there are more items like the ring around?” asked Laura.

I nodded. “Yes, but as time passes, it’ll be harder for survivors and their families to prove ownership and repatriate them. Plus, many of the original owners have passed on and can never truly be avenged or compensated.”

“At least we can do something for this family,” said Laura. “Yes, it’s settled. We’ll do it. The ring is theirs.”

“We’d like to meet them. We’d like to be part of their ring’s return. Perhaps we can give them some kind of certification so their ownership is never in question along with a paper trail. It’s not much perhaps, but it’s something,” said Alan. “We can talk it over with them.”

“I think they’ll appreciate that.”

“It’s a really good thing you’re all doing,” said Dad at last.

“Then that’s case closed for us,” said Laura with a sigh. “But I’d really like to know how we can prevent a theft from happening again.”

“We can upgrade all your security but this was a simple case of distraction coupled with sleight of hand,” said Solomon. “It’s unlikely you can fully prevent a theft like that from occurring again. Steve, do you have an opinion?”

“From my observations, simple preventative measures such as your sales team keeping trays behind a glass partition and only offering one item for prospective buyers to examine at a time would be the simplest method,” said Dad. “That, along with the security system upgrades are quick and easy.”

“I had a good look at the system and have a plan for the overhaul. We can retrofit an upgraded system with what you already have,” said Solomon. “That will come with security monitoring too. If you want to go higher end, we can look at ram raid prevention too but I don’t think it’s necessary here.”

“And the thief? Do you think she’ll come back?” asked Laura.

“It’s unlikely. Our intel is that she steals for hire and this was a specific case. We don’t expect she’ll return to your shop,” I said, leaning in as I explained. “She doesn’t steal for personal gain. Or, at least, not in the way your average thief does.” I thought about the diamonds Cass Temple had lifted from under our noses in our last case, and the shell companies and buildings she owned. It was unlikely she even needed the money from her commissions. So what made her do it? Was it the thrill of the job? Or the satisfaction in righting wrongs? How did she really make her money? Perhaps one day she would tell me.

“I’m not sure what that means exactly but I think it’s supposed to be reassuring,” said Alan.

“Do you have a picture of the thief?” asked Laura.

“Not a clear one but she’s a master of disguise so I’m not sure it would help you,” said Solomon. He began to rise and the rest of us followed. “The Feldmans are expecting your call,” he added.

“One more thing,” said Laura, stopping us in the doorway.

“Yes?” I asked, knowing it was going to be the question I was dreading. The question that everything hinged on.

“Do you have the ring?”

There it was. The question that could bring the whole deal crashing down.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Where is it?” asked Alan, confused now. “I got the impression you had it or knew where it was.”

“Do you know where it is?” pressed Laura.

“I know who has it and I believe it’s still here in town but I don’t know the exact location. I do believe the Feldmans will receive it.”

“There’s no point in us calling the Feldmans until the ring turns up,” said Laura.

“There’s no deal without the ring at all,” added Alan. He folded his arms, a touch defensively. “We like your plan but it all hinges on the ring.”

“We’ll call when we have information,” said Solomon. “A little patience will go a long way here.”

“We just want what’s best for everyone,” I said.

“I’ll wrap up here,” said Dad, giving me a hug. “Well done,” he said softly in my ear and squeezed me harder.

We left Reynolds’ by the front entrance and walked to the car. “That went better than I expected,” I said, still warm from the hug and praise. “But the ring is a problem.”

“The Reynoldses are good people,” said Solomon. “And you were right that they would be appalled and want to help. Where to now? I can take you back to the office, then I have a site visit. Or do you have a lead to follow?”

“The office works for me. I have a lot of paperwork to do and even more thinking.”

“Let’s go.”

I didn’t want to muse any more about the case but when Solomon dropped me outside the office before speeding off and disappearing around the corner, my thoughts were still full of the what ifs . I turned, ready to head inside the office and found my way blocked by a pale blue, open-necked shirt, and a red face.

“How could you?” yelled Maddox.

“Pardon?” I said, taking a step backwards, then thinking better of it and stepping forwards again, holding my ground.

“You helped her, didn’t you?”

“I help lots of people!”

“Cass Temple! Whatever sob story she told you, it’s BS, and whatever she offered you… well, that’s BS too!”

“Beef strips?” I asked.

“The other BS.”

“Bongo solo?”

“No. BS!”

“Bandit…”

“Bull shit!” yelled Maddox, causing a middle-aged couple to turn and tut.

“Oh, that. Why didn’t you say so?” I stepped around him, heading for the sanctity of my office where no one yelled at me without giving a reason first.

Maddox made a strangled, gurgling noise deep in his throat. Perhaps he was swallowing an apology for accosting me in the street?

“You helped my perp escape!”

“No, I didn’t!”

Maddox’s eyes widened at the lie. “You did! Farid and I saw it on camera at the motel. Cass Temple thought she was being clever taking rooms at a motel with a sketchy camera system but there was one that caught you both. You found her room and you let her go.”

I pulled a face. “Technically, Lily found her room.”

Maddox made another gurgling noise.

“I wouldn’t say I let her go,” I said, wincing.

“What would you call it?”

“I… didn’t stand in her way.”

“You could have told me on the phone. That’s why you called to see where I was, wasn’t it? I was sheer minutes away, and when I was in the reception area, seconds! I could have apprehended her. What did she promise you?”

“Nothing!”

Maddox narrowed his eyes. “Really?”

“Really! She didn’t have to. I already had what I wanted.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sighed and my shoulders dropped. So much for a great day with a great resolution to my case. “Then she stole it right back.”

This time, Maddox let out a guffaw. “What else did you expect from a thief?”

“She talked a lot about honor!”

“Amongst thieves?”

“Well, no. Amongst good people doing the right thing.”

“And you fell for it.” Not a question, a statement.

“Of course not!” I paused… Maddox was right. I’d totally fallen for it but that didn’t make her story any less true. Damn it! But what did that matter? She was still going to deliver the ring to the Feldmans. Of that, I was sure. She couldn’t justify the theft of the ring without that final step. “What does it matter anyway? She’s gone.” Even as I said it, I wasn’t so sure. Just why did she have a safe house in a minor city like this? She could have hideouts anywhere… so why here? What drew her here ?

Then I thought, was the what actually a who and was he standing right in front of me?

“That’s exactly why it does matter. This was my best lead in I don’t know how long and you blew it. For all I know, you took a nose dive down that chute just to help her out by distracting me. Thanks a bunch, Lexi.”

I’d seen Maddox mad before but never as furious as he was now and I couldn’t help feel a teensy bit like I’d made a fatal error. Yet it wasn’t my fault that our cases had overlapped and he failed to apprise me about his investigation. If he’d told me what was going on, perhaps I would have done something differently. Instead, he’d stuck to parting with as little information as he could. Despite what he’d said about Cass Temple, she’d stuck around long enough to ensure she delivered the ring to her client, no matter the risk to herself. Only I’d screwed up that plan and now she’d gone to ground.

“I don’t suppose you know where she is?” I asked.

Maddox’s eyes flashed. “Seriously? You want me to help you?”

“Yes.” I nodded emphatically.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you still need help finding her?”

“Let me get this straight… you want me to help you find her?”

“Yes, please.”

“Like you haven’t already aided and abetted her escape. I could arrest you for that. I could charge you.”

I winced. “I am really sorry,” I said.

“You weren’t sorry when you weren’t caught,” he shot back.

“I was and I feel terrible about it now.”

“Because she double-crossed you.”

“I…”

“Hmm?”

“You’re making a lot of good points,” I said, “and I am sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted a good outcome for the Feldmans.”

“And they would be?”

I paused. Now would be a good time to share. Now would be a good time to get back into Maddox’s good graces. Plus, I still didn’t have any hard evidence implicating Ellie Feldman in the crime. It was all hypothetical, even if my gut knew it all lined up.

“Ellie Feldman commissioned Cass Temple to steal the ring,” I said. “Mrs. Feldman lives in Chilton and the ring belonged to her grandparents, the Mendelsons, and it was stolen just before World War II broke out.”

“I can guess the rest,” said Maddox. “Your clients bought the ring unwittingly and Cass stole it for Mrs. Feldman.”

“Yes.”

“Anything you can prove?”

“Beyond highly probable but based on circumstantial evidence? No.”

“Anything that will stand up in court?”

“Not with a good defense. Plus, my clients don’t want to go to court. They’re going to give up the ring and transfer ownership to Mrs. Feldman in return for a bucket load of good publicity. I doubt there will be any case against Cass Temple so whatever your case is, you better hope it’s watertight because my case is a bucket full of holes.”

“Let’s get a drink,” said Maddox. “All this is giving me a headache and a dry mouth.”

“Beer?” I suggested, checking my watch.

“No, it’s not that bad that I need to turn to the drink. Plus, I’m still on the clock. How about the café down the street? The one with the striped parasols? You can buy me an iced coffee.”

“Deal,” I agreed since it was a better offer than his previous suggestion of arresting me. Plus, a few dollars on coffee would go a long way in getting Maddox to open up. Not as much as beer would but I lived in hope.

Maddox refused to be drawn into the topic of Cass Temple as we strolled down the street so instead I told him about the Feldmans and the Reynoldses, and my discoveries about the Michels and Cosette Durand. By the time we sat at a sidewalk table, the last one available, iced coffees dripping beads of water down the glasses, he seemed to have relaxed into a better mood.

“I can’t deny you’ve helped do some good here,” said Maddox, which was high praise from him.

“Thank you, but none of it is set in stone until that ring turns up. I’m sure Cass Temple is still in town and I’m sure she’ll deliver it.”

“I agree but the question is when. She could have left town already with two of her safe houses burned, intending to return at a later date when there’s less interest in her.” Maddox paused to sip, leaving a sliver of foam on his lip. “I could post a team on the Feldmans’ house but there’s no way I can get the sign-off to do that indefinitely. It could take weeks or months for Temple to show, if she does at all.”

“If she doesn’t, she won’t get her fee from the Feldmans,” I pointed out. On the table next to us, two women were sharing a slice of cake and chattering happily and for a moment, I envied their ease.

Maddox snorted. “Whatever they’re paying her, it’s chump change. She probably did it for the challenge and the satisfaction, more than the payment. Plus, she could put something like that in the mail and be entirely hands off.”

That gave me another thought, a niggling loose end that I thought we’d discounted. “You said you were going to Germany. That was about Cass Temple, right?”

“It was.”

“I told you the Reynoldses had a call from Berlin about the ring.”

“You did.”

“Was that Cass Temple?”

“We have an image of her at the city’s main train station a couple of days after that call. So the probability is high but I couldn’t confirm it.”

That didn’t surprise me at all but I was pleased Maddox had answered. I sipped my coffee, finding it perfectly ice cold and sweet. “We’re both in agreement she’ll hand over the ring. It’s just a case of when. Maybe we should smoke her out.”

“Sure. How do you plan on doing that?”

“Uh…” I stopped, entirely clueless. Our best leads had been Maddox tracking her safe house—now blown, and Lucas tracking her vehicle—now abandoned. I had no idea where she was, who might be helping her, nor what resources she had beyond that bundle of cash she’d taken. I didn’t know nearly enough about her, nor her movements, to have any clue.

But I did have one thing.

I had an email address.

She’d told me I could use it about the case, and nothing else. Which was fine because I wanted to email her about the case… and everything else. But if I did that, she might flee.

So I was back to square one. Or, as I liked to call him, Maddox.

“Thought so,” he said.

“You must have something,” I said. “There must be something in your research that suggests where she might be.”

“There was. I got the safe house right. She was there and she shoved you down a laundry chute.”

I touched my cheek gently, finding it tender but not as sore. “Don’t remind me.” There was a long pause while we sipped. Then, I said, “Really? You don’t have anything? How long have you been tracking her?”

“Too long.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” The words that had been hovering on the edge of my mind finally slipped out.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, the expression on his face so purposefully casual that I knew he knew exactly what I meant.

“Are you supposed to get involved with your targets?” I asked coolly like it was any other innocent question.

Maddox spluttered on the sip he had just taken. “I am not… what ? You’re crazy!”

“Thought so.” I gave him my best knowing look, because I’d known him long enough to know the truth could be wrapped in spluttering indignation.

“I don’t know what you think but that’s not it.”

“How do you know that’s not it if you don’t know what I think?” I fired back.

“I know you’re crazy.”

“Women are never crazier than when they’re right,” I said, deciding I needed to get that printed on a mug, a tote bag, and a t-shirt.

Maddox snorted again and checked his shirt for coffee drips. Apparently satisfied there weren’t any, he sipped again, then set his tall glass on the table. “We are not together. We are not an item, as your mom would say. We did know each other in our youth, something I’m keeping quiet from my superiors. Only my partner knows, and now you,” he said, without needing to add he trusted me to keep that quiet. I would. That was a given.

“How did you know each other?” I asked, the first of approximately seventeen questions to flood my brain all at the same time.

“We just did. I knew her dad too. Then one day, they were just gone and I never heard from her again and life moved on.” Maddox paused, raising his glass but not bringing it to his lips. “Then I found her in the middle of one of my cases, put two and two together, and she disappeared again. She’s been doing it ever since. I get close and… she’s gone.”

“That’s how you know her real name,” I said.

“Yeah, we were teenagers when we met. There was no reason not to use actual names back then. I thought I knew her family well and then years and years after they disappeared, I got wind that her dad was one of the most prolific thieves in the US.”

“What’s his name?” I asked, reaching for my phone, prepared for the most intense ten minutes of Googling I might have ever in my life; except for that time Lily and I searched a guy I was about to go on a first date with and found he had nine children, seven baby mamas —none of whom had anything nice to say about him—and a pending court date for petty theft. Which was a shame because he was six-foot-two.

“Don’t bother. You won’t find anything.”

“Why not?”

“Nothing was ever proved and he went dark a long time ago.”

“What do you mean ‘went dark’?”

“Just that. He disappeared. I’d like to think he’s sipping pina coladas on a beach somewhere in South America but the reality is he’s probably dead.”

“Did you ask Cass?”

“Yes, and she didn’t tell me anything. I don’t even think she knows.”

“This sounds like Ben Rafferty slash Gideon Black all over again.”

“I thought that during the case. Part of me wondered if it would be old man Temple uncovered in that shallow grave. I was relieved that it wasn’t.”

Instead of returning my phone to my pocket, I asked, “What year did you graduate?”

“If you’re about to stalk my high school yearbook and as many other years as you feel like searching, don’t bother, Cass left town before graduation. She’s not in the yearbook. There’re traces of her. A birth certificate… a few other things… but officially? Officially, Cass Temple doesn’t exist.”