Page 102 of The Murder Club

Drew finished writing out the details of the ring and Dom’s credit card number before glancing up.

“Sure.” He studied Dom with a lift of his brows.

“What’s up?”

“We’re trying to discover who’s been stealing from the elderly residents in a nursing home. Including a close friend of ours,” Dom told him.

Drew’s smile was replaced with an expression of outrage. “Hey, there was nothing hinky about the ring. I report all my merchandise to the local authorities. If something was stolen, it would have set off an alarm.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything improper, I swear,” Dom hastily assured him. “I know exactly how hard it is to run a pawnshop and the amount of red tape you have to wade through.”

“No shit. I’m drowning in rules and regulations,” Drew groused.

“I hear ya. And you have my full sympathy.” Dom lowered his voice. “The theft of the ring hasn’t been reported. We’re hoping to avoid the cops until after we track down who stole it. There’s always the possibility that it was someone we know. We don’t want to cause any trouble until we can be sure what happened,” he said, allowing the man to believe it might all be swept under the rug. “Once we have a name I’ll get out of your hair,” he promised.

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt to look at the information of who pawned the ring since you’re buying it today,” Drew slowly conceded. “And if you happen to see the paperwork . . .”

With a conspiratorial wink, Drew disappeared into the office, and Dom exchanged a glance with Bailey.

“You don’t have to buy the ring,” she whispered in a harsh voice. “It’s expensive.”

He reached to brush his fingers down her cheek. “It was important to Nellie. And she was important to you,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “She would want you to have it.”

Her lips parted as he pulled out the ring and pressed it into her hand. “Dom, I can’t accept—”

“It’s yours.” He pressed a quick kiss against her lips.

Before she could argue that it was too expensive, Drew returned from the office carrying a file folder. Flipping it open, he spread the papers across the top of the case.

“I appreciate this,” Dom murmured softly, his gaze scanning the paperwork to land on the photocopy of Logan Donaldson’s driver’s license.

“It was Logan.” Bailey grasped the edge of the case as if her knees were suddenly weak. “That . . . bastard.”

Dom wrapped his arm around her waist, his gaze never wavering from Drew. “Is he a regular?”

“Not really. He’s been in maybe four or five times that I can remember.”

“Recently?”

Sorting through the papers, Drew shook his head. “The last time was over three weeks ago. When he brought in the emerald ring.”

Wondering if Logan had put the thefts on hold after Nellie’s murder to avoid unwanted attention from the sheriff or if he was collecting the jewelry and waiting to come to the pawnshop when he ran out of money, Dom at last straightened.

They’d gotten the answers they’d come for. Time to get back to Pike.

“Thanks, man.” Dom nodded toward his credit card.

“If you’ll ring us up, I won’t bother you anymore.”

With a nod, Drew took the card to the scanner next to the cash register, quickly finishing the transaction before returning to hand the card and receipt to Dom.

“You know, it would be awesome if you could keep the shop out of any unpleasant investigations.”

Dom nodded. He didn’t suspect Drew was doing anything illegal, but pawnshops were always treated as if they were operating on the wrong side of the law. Even Money Makers.

“I’ll do my best,” he promised, even as he silently acknowledged that it was going to be tough to avoid getting the cops involved. Still, he would do his best to make sure that nothing bad happened to Drew or his pawnshop. “I won’t forget your help,” he promised.

He was about to turn away when Bailey abruptly pointed toward a shelf above the cash register.