Page 101 of The Murder Club

Dom kept a smile plastered on his face. Although he’d been friends with Kaden for fifteen years, it’d only been since the opening of Money Makers that he started being recognized. Usually by people in his industry.

“That I am,” he murmured.

“King of Pawn,” the man continued.

Dom cleared his throat. He wasn’t Kaden. He would never be comfortable with fame.

“I don’t know about that.”

The man ignored his lack of enthusiasm. “You won’t remember, man, but I’m Drew Stroud. I came out to Vegas the week you opened Money Makers. It was epic. The live music, the celebrities just strolling around, and Kaden fucking Vaughn on his vintage motorcycle. Yeah . . . epic.”

It had been epic. They’d spent a fortune to make sure the launch of the combination pawnshop and motorcycle restoration would attract attention and they hadn’t been disappointed. The crowd had been lined up for days before they’d opened the doors, and by the time the first week was over they’d had over ten thousand customers step through the doors.

“I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Look at that.” Drew turned to point to a framed photo that was nailed above the cash register. Even from a distance Dom could make out Drew’s smiling face as he stood between Dom and Kaden. “Place of honor.”

“Awesome.”

Drew reached into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out his phone. He held it up, shifting from foot to foot as if he was suddenly nervous.

“Do you mind?”

Dom swallowed a sigh. He might dislike the attention, but he needed this man’s help.

“Not at all.” Removing his arm from Bailey’s shoulders, he bent across the case so Drew could snap a picture of them together.

“I can’t believe you’re standing here,” Drew breathed, taking several pictures before shoving the phone back into his pocket.

Dom straightened, leaning his hip against the edge of the cabinet. “I’m hoping you can answer some questions for me.”

Drew lifted a brow. “For real?”

“Yep.” Dom pointed toward the middle of the case. “What can you tell me about the emerald ring?”

Drew’s dazzled smile was suddenly replaced with a shrewd expression. He might be a fan, but he was also a businessman. And selling the ring would no doubt be a big boost to his bottom line.

Grabbing the keys that were stored in a drawer next to the cash register, Drew quickly unlocked the case and pulled out the velvet-lined box.

“This one?”

“That’s it.”

“Excellent taste,” Drew commended him, tugging out the ring so the stones could glitter in the glow of the overhead lights. Dom silently appreciated his dramatic flair. Selling secondhand stuff took more effort than simply tossing it on a shelf. You had to convince the buyer they were getting the deal of a lifetime. “It’s a two-carat, oval-cut emerald with diamond accent stones. Fourteen carat white gold.” He tilted the ring to look inside the band. “Size six.” He glanced toward Bailey before returning his attention to Dom. “I can give you a great deal on this.”

“I’ll take it,” Dom grabbed the ring, tugging off the price tag before he shoved it in his pocket.

Dom ignored Bailey’s startled glance. This ring was evidence that Logan Donaldson and Eric Criswell had been stealing from the residents of Pike Nursing Home. Not to mention the fact that it obviously had a sentimental value to Bailey. There was no way he was going to risk having it disappear.

Drew appeared as surprised as Bailey by his abrupt decision. “No haggling?” he complained. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Next time.” Dom pulled out his wallet and tossed his credit card on top of the case. “For now I’m more interested in how the ring came to be in your shop.”

Drew pulled out an invoice pad and painstakingly began writing out the information. He obviously preferred to do things old school. Dom approved.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

Leaning forward, om planted his elbow on the glass. “Can I be honest with you?”