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Solomon had responded to a very early call out and I’d awoken to an empty bed and a text message saying he would meet me at Reynolds’ as soon as he could get away.

Since there was no point lingering at home, I headed directly to the office, texting my dad when I got there to let him know to meet us at the jewelers’ later. His thumbs up emoji response was probably the fastest he’d ever returned for a text, indicating his enthusiasm. A second later, another text appeared: I think that means okay .

Then: Your mom says a thumbs up is passive aggressive .

As the text bubble displayed on the screen, I fired back: Great! and added my own thumbs up.

I started up the stairs from the parking garage, calling Solomon as I ascended. “How’s it going?” I asked.

“I’m going to be tied up for the next hour. There’ve been a few developments and I can’t get away until then. The Reynoldses aren’t expecting us until mid-morning so I should make it. Hold on,” he said, and the line became muffled. “Sorry about that. Last night, I asked them to email both of us a list of people who’d been in the store this week. I just checked my email and it’s there. Like I hoped, it’s a short list although there are some customers they didn’t know, which is to be expected.”

“I’ll look into it now.”

“Can you handle the case alone if necessary?”

“Are you anticipating problems?” I countered.

“Yes.”

“Then yes, and I won’t be alone. Dad is helping.”

“We’ll go through the security tapes together when we get to Reynolds’. I figured if your dad’s going to help out, he should see everything we see.” Loud voices sounded down the line, angry and muffled. “Gotta go,” said Solomon and disconnected.

The office was empty but there was a lukewarm, half-filled coffee pot and an abandoned cup, only the dregs remaining. I figured Delgado, Solomon’s right hand man, was most likely with him. So that meant the other two PIs I shared the office with, Steve Fletcher and Matt Flaherty, had come and gone. The office felt empty without the two seasoned, ex-law enforcement guys here to tease and jest and discuss their cases, and it struck me that maybe that lonely feeling was a big reason why our tech guy, Lucas, had moved his desk to the floor above. Perhaps it wasn’t just the lure of a bank of monitors and more space for his other high-tech equipment; it was the gentle thrum of other people around him.

I flopped into my desk chair, trying to ignore the quiet, and pulled out my laptop. As promised, Laura Reynolds’ email was waiting in my inbox.

Her list of names focused solely on their employees, comprising her and her brother, their assistant manager, Jonathan Mazzina, their shop clerk, Tansy McDonald, and their cleaner, Monika Balint. According to Laura, she’d checked with Alan and he’d confirmed no one else they employed had been in the building that week and they hadn’t taken any deliveries or conducted any maintenance work.

She’d included their employee files, asking me to treat them with discretion.

I opened Laura’s first, noting she’d earned a degree in fine art before working first at a design studio then as a buyer. She’d taken some time out to retrain as a gemologist after which she’d joined the family business. She’d officially become their buyer as well as representing the firm at trade shows and exhibitions.

Alan’s career was always orientated towards the business, and I wondered if that were through genuine interest or because he was not only the older sibling but the son, presumably being groomed into taking over one day. He’d studied business while working part time at the shop. After a few years in project management, he’d joined the family firm as assistant manager, taking over as manager a few years later.

Jonathan Mazzina had been with the firm for many years, joining long before Laura and Alan, and I made a note to check if there were any sour grapes about Alan’s promotion over him. Laura had noted Jonathan designed his own jewelry too and included a website link. I clicked on it, impressed with the pretty, delicate pieces, the prices not so incredibly high that they were out of my orbit.

Tansy McDonald had been their shop clerk for four years. She was young, bright, and balancing business classes at night at the community college with the tasks of being the mother of a young child.

Finally, their cleaner was Monika Balint, an Eastern European woman who came in for two hours, twice a week. The morning of the theft had been her first shift of the week. She’d worked for them for several years. Her employee application listed a university in her home country and a range of cleaning jobs since her arrival in the States.

Jonathan and Tansy had both been in the shop on the day of the theft, but otherwise, Laura noted there hadn’t been any incidents involving any of the employees.

I was able to run credit and social media checks for all of them, finding nothing suspicious.

When the door behind me opened, I turned my head.

“Hey, Lexi, is the boss around?” asked Lucas, our resident tech geek.

“He’s on a case,” I said. “Is it urgent?” As I asked, my cell phone buzzed, Solomon texting he was on his way to the jewelers’.

“Nope, just need some paperwork signed off.”

“I’m on my way to meet him. I’ll let him know.”

“It can wait. I’ll leave it on his desk,” said Lucas, passing me with a few slips of paper. He deposited them on Solomon’s desk. When he returned, he asked, “Are you on a case?”

“Just got assigned one last night. Heading out to check security footage now.”

“Let me know when you need assistance. I’ve been coding some new software I want to try out.”

“Will do.” I grabbed my purse and followed Lucas out before we separated paths, he going upstairs while I headed for my car, texting my dad I was on the way.

I stood facing the jewelry store a short while later, unsure if I should have been surprised to see there was no obvious evidence of a crime. Of course, I wasn’t expecting shattered windows or crime scene tape fluttering in the breeze, but I also hadn’t expected this air of normalcy. It was like nothing had ever happened. Just like yesterday when I’d been on the same street drinking coffee with Lily. I glanced over at the coffee shop across the street, shrugging off the odd coincidence.

Stepping forwards, I pushed the plate glass door between two large windows. It didn’t budge. So I tried again, only to be met with the same resistance. I stepped back, assessing the problem. The door looked operational and there was a bald man inside behind the counter. I waved to him and in return, he pointed a finger to my right and motioned to push.

“Ahh,” I muttered, spying the doorbell sunk into the frame. I pressed it and the buzzer sounded. This time, when I pushed the door it opened easily.

“Good morning,” called the man jovially, offering a warm smile from behind the far end of the horseshoe-shaped counter. “The doorbell confuses everyone until you know it’s there. I can just press the buzzer to let you in, of course, but it’s best you know the doorbell is there too just in case you don’t see anyone on the shop floor. How can I help? Is there anything you’d particularly like to see today?”

“I’m Lexi Graves-Solomon, with the Solomon Detective Agency.”

“Of course. I was told to expect you. Mr. Solomon is in the back with Alan,” he said, offering his hand to shake in a way that I found both gentlemanly and friendly. I wondered if he were this charming with every customer, or just the ones potentially investigating him. “I’m Jonathan Mazzina, assistant manager. Can I show you around while you wait?”

“I can’t just go through?” I asked, looking around him for the employees’ door that had to lead to wherever Solomon was. I spotted it at the rear, unobtrusively camouflaged in the paneling, a keypad at shoulder height.

“Store policy prevents me from allowing anyone not employed by us in the back of the shop without an escort. Someone will come to accompany you. Allow me to show you around the shop while we wait,” he offered again.

I glanced around, looking for any signs of security cameras and found none. “Thanks, that would be helpful.”

“As you can see, this is where we display all our goods and our customers can view or try pieces on, as well as make purchases.” Jonathan skirted the counter and stepped out of a slim gap, crossing the floor to the front. “Our window displays are locked during the day, and emptied during the night to be stored in the safe. We use a keypad locking mechanism since there are a few employees and we each have our own code.”

“Do you all know each other’s codes?” I asked, surprised that he wasn’t just showing me the jewelry but explaining the security in place too.

“We’re not supposed to, but I know birthdates have been used in the past. Here, I’ll show you how it works.” Jonathan indicated I should join him in front of the window display. He entered his code, blocking my view with his hand and the glass partition popped open.

“There’re four keypads. One for each window display,” he said as he reached for a display case, “and we only ever open one at a time. That’s store policy too. Open one, lock it. Put things away, lock again. Open another, lock it.” He pulled out a velvet tray and placed it on the counter, indicating a sparkling array of bracelets, either made entirely of, or studded with, diamonds. “Would you like to try on anything?” he asked.

I peered at the bracelets, wanting to try on the lot until I glittered like a Christmas tree. The temptation of theft was understandable but not justifiable. No one needed a diamond bracelet. “They don’t have price tags,” I said.

“Well observed. This tray ranges from five thousand,” he said, pointing to the simplest of the bracelets, then to the middle one made up entirely of diamonds “to fifteen thousand dollars.”

I tried to brush that off with a nonchalant, “Do you sell many?”

“You’d be surprised. The least expensive is our entry-level diamond bracelet. Perfect for a treat or a gift,” he said as though he’d said it a thousand times. Jonathan picked up the tray and entered the code, returning the tray to the window display. Then he locked it and opened the adjacent display, pulling out two small, vertical stands from which dangled gold earrings. “These are just in,” he told me. “They’re subtle enough for everyday wear and there are matching necklaces if you want a more glamorous look for the evening.”

I lifted the gold drops with the tip of my forefinger, studying them. “They really are pretty,” I said. “How much would this pair set me back?”

“Three thousand, four hundred dollars.”

I winced. “Maybe later.”

“Of course.” Jonathan returned the stands to the display, going through the motions of entering the code and checking it was locked, ensuring I watched his every move before returning to the employee side of the counter. “You’ll see in the counter displays that we have a wide array of other jewelry items and watches, for both men and women, and all kinds of occasions. Anniversaries, birthdays, weddings, apologies ,” he added with a wink as he swept a hand over the glass counters.

“How much will an apology set me back?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from the gold, silver, and platinum underneath the glass surfaces. Every kind of gemstone appeared: rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds of all shapes and sizes.

“It depends on what you did, and how apologetic you feel,” Jonathan quipped. “Shall I show you the cufflinks? Or perhaps you’d like to see the watches?”

“Okay,” I agreed as we moved to the opposite counter, which housed a fine selection of watches, seeming to cater to everyone: from the rugged outdoors, to adventurous types who might need to suddenly dive 100 meters, and people who simply sought an elegant, everyday timepiece.

“If he’s threatening divorce, I’d try this one,” he said, pointing to an elegant silver watch. “It’s not a desperate, flashy, buying of affection, but it will hit your bank balance for a more subtle shock.”

“I like your sales technique,” I said, trying not to smile.

“Thank you. I’m a lot more subtle usually. Would you like to see our small vintage selection? Ahh, here’s your boss,” he said, turning as the rear door opened and Solomon stepped through, followed by Alan Reynolds. “I’m taking Ms. Graves-Solomon through our inventory,” he added.

“What do you think?” asked Alan.

“You have beautiful items,” I said, “and Jonathan has been running through some of the security too.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Join us in the back,” said Solomon. “There’s something I want you to see.”

“Nice to meet you,” I told Jonathan and he nodded politely, indicating with a sweep of his hand that I could step through the gap in the counter to follow Alan and Solomon through the paneled door into a narrow corridor.

“Ahead of us is the breakroom and kitchenette, the restroom, and that door leads to parking for two vehicles,” said Solomon as we headed through the security door into a narrow corridor. “The middle door is for the office and this room is for the CCTV and the safe.”

We stepped inside a small square room, neatly occupied by a desk, two chairs, and a large vault set into the wall with a full-sized door.

“I explained to Solomon that the vault is fully reinforced and set into the fabric of the building,” said Alan. “I can show you both inside but as I already told you, I’m positive the theft happened on the shop floor and not from the vault. We accounted for the ring at the start of the day but not at the end when we were returning everything back to the vault.”

“That does narrow the time window for the theft considerably,” I said.

“That’s what Solomon said,” said Alan. “Can I get you a coffee? Or water?”

“Nothing for me, thanks,” I said. My phone buzzed with a message from my dad: Just parked .

“I’ve viewed the internal cameras from the day of theft,” said Solomon, dropping into a seat, “and made a list of any person inside the store who wasn’t on staff. It’ll take a while to identify them all.”

“It’s a big list?” I asked, thinking about all the diamonds in the shop.

“Mercifully small. There were twelve customers that day.”

“I was making the list already and can definitely identify three as repeat customers,” said Alan. “They’ve been clients for so long, I hardly believe one would steal a ring now.”

“It does seem unlikely to go from committed customer to thief,” I agreed. “And the others?”

“I recognize two, maybe three others. I have receipts from two more. The ladies I didn’t know, nor one of the men. They were new faces to me but I’ll need to run their pictures past the other employees.”

“We can handle that for you,” said Solomon. “Lexi, I was taking an initial look at the external cameras to see if anything suspicious occurred outside.”

“Like a getaway driver?” I wondered.

“More like a disturbance that could cause the shop clerk to glance over, becoming momentarily distracted, but not so obvious that they would remember it later.”

“Distraction theft is common,” I said, picking up his hint. “Could that be what happened here?”

“I think it’s a strong possibility.”

“I’m hopeful it’s the only possibility,” said Alan. “Jonathan has a great knack for sensing when someone is trying to give him the runaround.”

Solomon tapped the keys and moved the mouse, scrolling back through the external footage until he stopped.

“What am I looking at?” I asked.

“Wait for it?” he said as the recording played.

“Still not seeing it,” I said after a minute had passed.

“Watch again,” said Solomon and rewound. This time, he pointed to the top quadrant playing. “This screen is the camera that takes a wider view of the street. The bottom screen covers the shop front, immediately outside. Tell me if you see anyone you know.”

“That’s Lily and me!” I said, spotting us taking a seat in the coffee shop across the street. Almost immediately, Lily put the binoculars to her eyes.

“Correct,” said Solomon.

“We went for coffee,” I said, quickly adding, “obviously.” Then for Alan’s benefit, I explained, “Lily is my best friend and sister-in-law.”

“So far, you two are our only eyewitnesses for part of the time of the theft window.”

“I wish I could say I saw something interesting but I didn’t. We didn’t even stay long,” I said, feeling disappointed and wishing I could go back in time to the moment on screen so I could take a better look around. Then, when I watched Lily lower her binoculars, speak to me, then raise them again, I thought of something that had seemed tiresome and ridiculous yesterday. I almost laughed as I said, “Lily was spying on three old ladies that went… oh! I remember now. They came into the store. She was convinced they were casing the place. I thought she was just being paranoid.”

“What gave her that impression?” asked Alan.

I glanced at him, then at Solomon. A puff of color reached my cheeks. “Lily saw the ladies earlier, bumbling around. Then, while we were getting coffee, she was watching them amble down the street. I think they walked past Reynolds’, then turned around and walked back, and seemed to have a discussion before going inside. That’s what got Lily even more interested in them. They couldn’t have been in there longer than, I don’t know, ten… maybe fifteen minutes? Maybe less. Then they shuffled to the coffee cart and went to the bus stop and got on. Lily left and I had to go so I forgot all about it until I was outside, just now.”

Solomon paused the video and glanced at Alan. “Did you identify the elderly ladies?” he asked. “How many were there?” he asked me.

“Three, I think.”

Alan shook his head. “No, I don’t recognize them. I don’t think they’re regular customers.”

Solomon leaned back in his chair. “What made Lily think they were specifically casing this shop?”

“I don’t know. I just thought she was bored and hopeful they were casing somewhere.” But now I wondered if there could be more to it. Lily had certainly thought so. Had her instincts been right all along? And how had I missed it?

“She didn’t mention anything in particular? Had you encountered these ladies doing anything suspicious when you first spotted them?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think we saw them down the street, maybe half an hour before, when we were browsing and they were looking in windows, but we didn’t interact with them. When they were window shopping still, I insisted we get a coffee. Lily was particularly eager to take a window seat. She wanted to observe them.”

“But you didn’t see anything strange going on?” pressed Solomon.

“Define strange? Actually, it doesn’t matter. No. I didn’t see anything strange. Like I said, I thought Lily was just bored and hopeful, more than on to anything. I thought they were three elderly ladies doing some window shopping and maybe one of them was buying a gift or treating herself to something special. After Lily and I parted, I didn’t think any more about it until I walked up to the store today.”

“We’ll still need to track them down.”

“I think Lily might have followed them,” I said, holding back a wince. “The trio got onto a bus before Lily said she had to go, and a few minutes later, I saw Lily driving in the same direction.”

“What happened then?”

A creeping feeling of guilt overcame me at the weird turn of events. “I wish I could say I asked but I really forgot all about it until now.” What I wanted to ask was had I done something wrong, but I was sure I hadn’t. Lily’s suspicions had seemed so fanciful but now we’d been thrust into the investigation, she was going to be thrilled!