"You should do what you need to do to find Katherine."
"They call her Katie."
I felt a brief pang. "My mom was Kate."
"I know, honey."
"All the more reason to find her." I finished my eggs and toast, shared a piece of bacon with Lou, and made quick work of the cleanup since Jack cooked. When I went to brush my teeth, Jack followed me into our bedroom and leaned against the bathroom doorframe.
"You know, I can brush my teeth on my own. I doubt Cletus is hiding in the shower."
"Hilarious." His green eyes were serious, though. "It bothers me that I don't know why he came back to town. The Dead End fireworks contract can't be enough money to make all this animosity he's facing worth it."
I snapped off the bathroom light and walked out into the bedroom to change my PJs for jeans and a Dead End Pawn cotton jersey, dodging his long-armed grabs for me as I did. "I wonder if his real reason … don't even try it, Buster. I have to get to work. I wonder if his real reason for coming here had something to do with that ring. Jack, you should have seen it. It had to be worth a fortune. Maybe as much as a quarter million dollars to a collector. If he got it in some underhanded way and thought I'd be an easy mark for some quick cash … what kind of trouble can he be in?"
"The money kind," Jack said grimly.
We drove separately to work in case he needed to go out searching for Katie at some point. I needed to get a lot done, because the next day was the Fourth, and I planned to close the shop to attend the Fourth Festival downtown and enjoy the day with my family.
While Eleanor and I rang up sales and wrote up pawns, Jack worked steadily in his office on contacting any of his old network he could reach to find out if they knew anything about Katherine Sampson or the mysterious Joe.
That's why he was close at hand when the two thugs showed up at the shop.
We had a lull, so Eleanor took off to take Oscar and Bill out to the park for a picnic lunch. A few minutes later, when I was contemplating lunch myself, the door slammed open with unusual force. I glanced up, already irritated, because I'd had to replace that glass before because of overly enthusiastic door openers.
And after the zucchini incident.
Not tourists. Not with those bulging muscles stretching the seams of their matching dark suits with metallic threads embroidered around the lapels. It was way too hot for those outfits on the third of July in Florida. Nobody went out sightseeing dressed like that.
Very, very quietly, I said, "Jack."
Just his name.
I knew he'd hear me because of his Superior Tiger Hearing and the cocktail party effect, which is the brain's ability to focus on one particular sound— usually a person's name—even in a noisy room.
Jack and I had talked about, and even experimented with, using this method of communication in sticky situations.
So, I wasn't surprised when I heard the whirring sound of the camera on the wall behind me as it tilted downward. He'd watch, and then he'd bust through the door like a superhero if the situation warranted it.
From the looks of these two, the situation might soon warrant it.
They both had pale, doughy skin, like people who never went outdoors. They also had similarly shaped brown eyes and large, hooked noses. Brothers, maybe, or cousins.
"Can I help you?" I smiled brightly, which I think confused them. "We're having a special on taxidermied ferrets this week."
The taller one sneered, but the shorter one actually looked interested.
"Hey, Gus. Get a load of that! I bet my kids would?—"
"No names," Gus hissed.
The short one rolled his eyes. "Right. Like she's going to track us down from the name Gus. You know how many people are probably named Gus?"
"Gus is actually a relatively uncommon name in the U.S.," I helpfully pointed out. "It's usually short for Augustus, which is more usual to see in Europe."
Yeah, pawnshop folks and trivia. I mentally smacked myself on the forehead.
"Great," Gus said, narrowing his dark eyes. "Listen. It's not even my real name, so don't worry about it. We're here to talk to you, Tess Callahan."
