Chapter 6
Neely Kate wasn’tin the office when I got back. I’d sent her a text from the farm, letting her know I was heading back to town, but she hadn’t responded to that either. Anna must have finished her task because the office was locked up tight, the lights had been dimmed, and there was a CLOSED sign on the door to alert any walk-ins.
Where was Neely Kate? James’ concern for my well-being had stirred me up. If I was potentially in danger, then my best friend could be in trouble too. Pacing a little beside the truck, I tried her cell phone half a dozen times—my nerves ratcheting up each time she didn’t answer. Should I call Joe? But before I could pull up his number, I caught sight of her emerging from Carter Hale’s office across the street. Carter followed her to the doorway, and something about the way he watched my friend raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Was Neely Kate seeing her divorce attorney? Could he have been the man in that vision? While I honestly believed she was free to date, Carter Hale wasn’t the type of man she needed in her life. He was good at what he did, certainly, and I even liked the man. But there was no denying he was conniving and self-centered. She needed a man who would try to make sure she didn’t get hurt again.
She finally headed across the street toward the shop, and I stood beside the truck and waited. It was close to four, which meant we had time to go to the pawn shop, visit Raddy’s mother, and still be home in time to start dinner.
Neely Kate lifted an eyebrow as she approached me. “You been waiting there long?”
“You didn’t answer my text. When I didn’t see you in the office, I was worried.”
“What on earth for? I was talking to Carter about my options since he still can’t track Ronnie down.”
She walked around the truck and climbed into the cab. I got in next to her and started the engine.
“What did he have to say?” I asked.
“I can try to have Ronnie declared dead. Normally, I’d have to wait seven years, but we all know he was probably killed in that whole mess in February.”
“Really?” I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering if I should tell her about Joe’s lead. “How soon could he get that started?”
“He’s not sure. He’s going to do some digging to see if there’s a precedent.” She glanced at me. “He’s worried because of Ronnie’s life insurance money.”
My jaw dropped. “You never told me he had life insurance.”
She shrugged. “I hadn’t really considered it. Ronnie’s boss called me last week to see what I wanted to do. There’s not much money, but I could afford to buy a new car. And maybe put a marker on a grave somewhere so I could take him flowers.” Tears filled her eyes. “It seems wrong not to have a grave to visit.”
I reached over and grabbed her hand, guilt washing through me. It seemed wrong not to say anything about Joe’s trip, but what if it didn’t go anywhere? The last thing I wanted to do was rewind her grieving process, especially since there was a pretty good chance Ronniewasdead. “I know.”
She sniffed and pulled her hand free. “I’m fine. Let’s go see what Alberto has to say.”
I backed out of the parking space, and once I was headed in the direction of the pawn shop, I cast a curious glance in her direction. “Carter looked mighty intrigued with what you had to say outside his office.”
She frowned. “Nothing’s goin’ on.”
“I know that.” Or so I hoped. “But that doesn’t meanhedoesn’t want something to be goin’ on.”
She was silent for a moment. Finally, she said, “I could do worse than Carter Hale.”
Her tone was noncommittal, but I couldn’t resist saying, “You could do a lot better.”
She just stared out the window, keeping quiet. I’d definitely have to corner Joe tonight and tell him about this latest development.
I pulled into the gravel parking lot of Rainy Day Pawn, then glanced around the nearly empty lot. “Doesn’t look like they’re very busy.”
“I heard they’ve lost business since Ripper Pawn opened.”
“Huh.” Could Alberto have told Rayna the brooch was fake so he could make more money?
When we walked into the shop, I was surprised by the brightness of the fluorescent overhead lights. I had expected the place to look dark and seedy, but it seemed more like a cross between a miniature Kmart and the Goodwill store.
A woman stood behind the huge glass case at the front of the store, watching us as if worried we’d grab the cuckoo clock hanging on the wall and make a break for it.
I gave her a friendly smile. “Is Alberto here?”
She leaned backward, tilting her chin over her shoulder, and yelled, “Alberto! Someone to see you.”
The curtains to the back parted, revealing a medium-height, average-weight guy with mousy brown hair and pale skin. He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as he walked toward us.