Page 100 of The Murder Club
With an odd sense of contentment, she laid her hand on Dom’s arm as he pressed his foot on the accelerator, picking up speed. The traffic was light enough to ensure they would reach Green Bay in a couple of hours. Until then Bailey intended to relax and enjoy being alone with the man who’d stolen her heart.
Closing her eyes, she allowed the smooth sway of the expensive vehicle to lull her into a light sleep.
Chapter 21
Dom turned down the narrow street, allowing Bailey to navigate them through the city as he kept a close eye on the rearview mirror. He didn’t think they’d been trailed from Pike, but he wasn’t taking any chances. So far they’d caught Eric Criswell parked outside of Bailey’s house taking pictures and Thorpe Curry videotaping her. Who knew how many other weirdos were following her around.
“Pull in here.” Bailey pointed toward a parking lot on the opposite side of the street. “This is the place.”
Dom swerved into the small lot, relieved to find it nearly empty. He didn’t want a lot of gawkers hanging around if he needed to question the owner. Then, climbing out of the vehicle, he took a moment to study the L-shaped, red-brick building that had a corner patio with a handful of picnic tables. He assumed that side of the building was used for the microbrewery. Which meant the entrance to the pawnshop was through the double glass doors closest to the sidewalk.
Waiting for Bailey to join him, Dom crossed the crumbling concrete to pull open the door and step inside the shop. It was a long, narrow space that was framed with metal shelves that held a variety of musical instruments, power tools, sports equipment, and used electronics. The larger lawn equipment cluttered the floor of the shop along with the gun cabinets that were stuffed with weapons. At first glance it looked like most pawnshops, but Dom didn’t miss the fact that it was ruthlessly clean and the merchandise was precisely arranged. Whoever owned this place took pride in their business.
“Let’s find the display case,” he murmured, grasping her hand as they headed to the front of the shop. They stopped at the glass cabinet that held dozens of velvet-lined boxes. “Do you recognize anything?”
Bailey leaned forward, carefully studying the various rings and necklaces that sparkled beneath the bright lights installed in the cases.
“The plain wedding bands would be hard to pick out. Most of them look the same,” she murmured, keeping her voice low despite the fact that they were the only customers. She pressed her finger against the top of the case, pointing at a pair of gold earrings that were shaped like butterflies. “But those look familiar. I think they may have belonged to Betsy Felton. She wouldn’t have missed them. And even if she did, the Donaldsons could have claimed she’d lost them. Her dementia is pretty bad.” She slowly straightened. “I don’t see any emerald rings.”
“There’s another case over there.”
Dom led her over to the small glass cabinet that was arranged next to the door to an office. As he’d expected, the jewelry was a different quality. The settings were gold or silver and the gems were real.
Once again, Bailey leaned forward, scanning the selection. A minute later she was sucking in a sharp breath.
“This one.” She pointed toward the ring at the very center of the display. “That’s Nellie’s ring.”
Dom arched his brows. It was by far the most expensive piece of jewelry in the shop. Including the dozen diamond necklaces on the other side of the case.
“You’re sure?” he demanded.
“Positive. Her husband had it handcrafted from a store in Chicago for their thirtieth wedding anniversary.” Bailey abruptly straightened, her body stiff as she rapidly blinked back tears. “God.”
Caught off guard by her intense reaction, Dom wrapped her trembling body in his arms.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s so stupid.” She leaned against him, her words muffled as she pressed her face against his chest. “We’ve been discussing people stealing from Nellie and even someone killing her for days. But it wasn’t real. Not until now.”
Dom smoothed a hand down her back, regret slicing through him. Bailey was so boldly courageous, he sometimes lost sight of how much she’d endured over the past days. It’d started with the death of her friend and Gage’s ugly accusations and quickly spiraled into the grinding fear that she was being stalked by a psychopath.
It was a wonder she wasn’t locked in her room, curled in a ball of terror.
“Do you want to wait outside?”
“No. I want this finished.” She lifted her head to meet his worried gaze. “I want it to be just the two of us with no distractions.”
An unexpected shudder raced through him, proving his own emotions were scraped raw. He’d never wanted anything more in his life. Including when he was starving on the streets.
“It sounds like paradise,” he whispered, his fingers stroking down her back in a comforting motion.
Her lips parted, but before she could speak the door to the office was yanked open and they stepped apart to watch a tall, painfully thin man with long, mousy blond hair and a scraggly beard walk into the store. He was wearing a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off to reveal his numerous tattoos and jeans that hung low on his narrow hips.
“See anything you like?” He halted on the opposite side of the case. Then, without warning, his pale brown eyes widened in shock. “Are you shitting me?”
Dom wrapped a protective arm around Bailey. “Is there a problem?”
“Problem? Hell no.” The man placed his hands flat on the glass as he leaned forward. “I can’t believe this is real. You’re Dom Lucier.”