Page 10 of Lucy Locket

Garrett pops open the locket.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, girl,” Hazel gripes. “There’s nothing inside.”

I smile because I had a feeling she didn’t know. “On the hinge of the locket…” I point. “If you press up on the bottom of it, the back will pop open.” Before he’s got a chance to do it, I add, “Inside will be two photos. One of my grandfather, Donal Locket, and one of me as a baby.”

Hazel hisses, “That’s ridiculous.”

Garrett presses on the hinge and the back pops open just as I’d promised. “If you pull them open, it turns from a heart into a four-leaf clover.” I point to the photos inside. “That’s me as a baby and my grandfather.” Boy, it’s great to see his handsome face. It was a photo taken right after my mom was born. Seeing that photo reminds me how much I miss him. Both of them.

“Parlor tricks,” scoffs Hazel.

What a silly thing to say. There’s no trickery here at all. “If you take the photos out, on the back of my grandfather’s photo is the word grá which is Gaelic for love.” I smile, knowing my grandmother wrote that word. “And on the back of mine is lúcháir, which means joy.”

We all stare as Garrett tries to pull Grandpa’s picture out of the locket using his fingernail. I spot a paper clip on Paul’s desk and unbend it. “Here. Use this.” When Garrett’s hand touches mine, a feel a zing speed through my hand, like a shock. From the look on Garrett’s face, he must’ve felt the same thing. Ignoring the sensation, I nod at the locket. “It’s there. I promise.”

“I believe you.” Garrett’s words were barely audible. But I heard him. He gently pulls up an edge from my grandfather’s photo. Turning it over, he holds it up for Hazel and Fred to see. “It’s there.”

Pressing it back into place, he does the same to my baby picture. Once it’s out, he reads the back and shows Hazel and Fred. “I believe she’s telling the truth about the locket.”

“So what?” snaps Fred. “How do we know it was stolen in the first place? They could have sold it for the cash and just filled the stupid twit’s head with lies. My grandfather bought it fair and square.”

“You sure about that, Mr. Konig?”

“My Maury wouldn’t buy stolen goods, Detective Whelan. Stanley is going to hear about this.”

“You’d better arrest her, Detective, because we’re pressing charges.” My goodness, Fred is quite an angry man. His formerly pretty face is all red and blotchy now.

“I’ll take her to the station, but you’re going to need to produce a receipt for this locket, Mrs. Konig.”

“Are you accusing me of—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. If her grandmother filed a police report, you’re going to need to show proof of purchase of this locket.” Garrett turns to face me. “Ms. Locket. Please come with me.”

I look at Carl. “You don’t have to go with me, Mr. Maloney.”

“Of course, I’m going with you, child. What kind of man do you take me for?”

“A good one.” A very good one. “Go home. It’s getting late, Mr. Maloney. I’ll call you if I need you.”

He glances at Garrett. “He seems fair-minded.”

“I agree.”

Stepping closer, Mr. Maloney places a palm on my shoulder. “Promise me you’ll call if they even think about locking you up.”

“I promise.”

“Because your grandmother will haunt my dreams if I let anything happen to you, Lucy-loo-loo.”

I laugh at his statement because it would be just like Grandma Maeve to haunt someone who made her angry. I’m still laughing as Garrett walks me through the crowd still mingling at the opening, an event that should have ended a half hour ago. They’re probably enjoying the canapés. Either that or they’re here for this drama.

“You’d better not be arresting her, jackass,” Molly says, stepping in front of Garrett. She has to look up at him since she’s a good foot shorter than the man. That has never stopped Molly from confronting someone who she feels needs confronting, though. Size doesn’t matter a lick to Mary Margaret Maloney. “I don’t care if you are a cop. I’ll kick your ass.”

I reach out and place a hand on her shoulder. “Stop, Molls. Don’t worry. This will all work out. What I really need from you is for you to take charge of this event. I’ll grab my keys so you can load everything into my van. Drive it home. I’ll pick it up tomorrow or when I’m released.”

“You can count on me, Lucy.” She glares at Garrett and growls. “This is bullshit.”

“Let’s go.” Garrett touches my bare forearm and that zinging sensation hits again. He quickly removes his hand, slipping it into his pocket. “You need to grab anything?”

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