but if only she’d waited one more day she wouldn’t have pawned her mother’s jewelry and she wouldn’t be standing in a pawnshop desperate to get it back.
“Will you at least contact the person for me and give them my phone number? You could ask them to call me. Tell them I’ll pay double what they paid for it. I have to get it back.”
He sighed and then shoved a piece of paper with a pen across the counter toward her. “I can’t promise anything, but write down your info and I’ll pass it along. I don’t normally do this kind of thing. Once it’s sold, it’s out of my hands. You relinquished any claim when you sold the jewelry to me.”
“I know, I know,” Josie said as she hurriedly jotted down her name and number. “I’m not saying it’s your fault or that you’re to blame. I have only myself to blame for acting so rashly. But I’d really appreciate it if you could just give the person a call and let them know how desperate I am to get the pieces back.”
He shrugged as she shoved the paper back to him. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She turned to walk out, her heart heavy. She should have been elated. Her artwork had sold. All of it! And Mr. Downing had told her to bring more, whatever she wanted. He had an interested buyer, and though he hadn’t divulged any information about the buyer, he’d told her that the party was interested in whatever else she brought in.
The only thing marring the entire day was the fact that her mother’s jewelry was gone. She had no idea where or who had bought it or if she’d ever get it back. She’d been so happy when Mr. Downing had given her that check. Far more than she’d ever hoped for. It was enough to pay her rent and buy groceries for a few months. Plenty of time for her to get other pieces to the gallery. And most importantly, it had been enough money to buy back the jewelry she’d sold, even though she knew it would cost her more than she’d gotten from the sale.
The pawnshop had been the very first place she’d gone after depositing the check into her bank account. And she’d sworn to herself that no matter what, she’d never part with the jewelry again.
Only now it was gone, and so was the last link to her mother.
She left the shop, stepping onto the busy street, uncertain of where exactly she was going next. As she turned to the right, she was stopped by a familiar face. She blinked as she stared back at the man she’d met in the park several days earlier. He was standing there, not looking surprised. In fact, he looked as though he’d been waiting for her. Crazy thought, but she didn’t get the impression he was startled at all by the unexpected meeting.
“Josie,” he murmured.
“H-hello,” she stammered out.
“I believe I have something that belonged to you.”
He held out an opened box and as soon as she saw inside, her breath caught and stilled in her chest.
She raised her gaze back to him in confusion.
“How did you get this? I don’t understand. How could you have possibly gotten it? How did you know?”
He smiled, but his eyes were steely. No hint of a smile in those green eyes.
“I bought it after you sold it to the pawnshop. I’m guessing since you just came out of there that you want it back.”
“Yes, of course I want it back. But that doesn’t answer the question as to how you got it.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I just told you. I bought it after you sold it.”
She shook her head impatiently and it was then his gaze came to rest at her throat. Her bare throat. His eyes glittered with instant interest. She lifted a hand automatically to where the collar had once rested.
He’d know that she’d worn it awhile. There was a thin band of paler skin from where the necklace had been.
“It doesn’t explain how you knew about it,” she said huskily.
“Does it matter?” he asked mildly.
“Yes, it does! Have you been following me?”
“Me personally? No.”
“It’s
Learning to Kill: Stories