Page 128 of It Runs in the Family

“That ends up in your pocket,” I muttered. My need to escape this place was growing, along with my impatience.

Boone shot me a warning look, then gave the boy a toothy grin as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “What am I lookin’ at?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“Will that put me first in line?” Boone asked.

“It’ll put you in third. Two other people paid the rush fee before you.”

“Will you get to it today?” Boone asked, holding his wallet but not opening it.

The boy glanced toward the door to the back before returning his gaze to Boone. “Yeah. I should have an estimate by the end of the day.” Then he extended his hand closer to Boone.

Boone opened his wallet, pulled out several bills, and started placing twenty-dollar bills into the kid’s hand.

Once he stopped, the kid looked down at the money, then folded it and stuffed it into the front pocket of his jeans.

I elbowed Boone in the ribs in an I-told-you-so gesture. He just gave me another dirty look.

The kid grabbed an order form from under the counter and slid it toward Boone. “Fill this out. I just need your name and phone number so I can call you this afternoon.”

“Sure thing.” Boone picked up a pen from the counter and started to fill out the form.

I realized this was a golden opportunity to learn his last name—something he hadn’t told me. I just as quickly realized I was wasting my time. He’d written Tom Smith.

“I’m gonna wait outside.” I wasn’t going to learn anything else in here, and my need to get out of there was climbing toward panic.

I was already moving to the door as Boone called after me, “Iris, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It probably wasn’t, but my need for fresh air had become desperate. I stood on the sidewalk, taking in deep lungfuls of air and hating that I was losing control. I was the one who always had her shit together.

He followed me out seconds later, standing behind me and resting his hands lightly on my upper arms. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my gaze on a car across the street. “I just don’t like dark spaces.”

“T-Bird’s was dark.”

“Not really. Not like that.” I took a step forward, away from his hold, and turned to face him. “Have you heard anything from your guy about Rebecca?”

“Not yet.”

“Then what do you want to do? Because we have to do something.”

“I was thinkin’ we talk to Deanna. If she was friendly with Rebecca, there’s a chance they bought the bracelets together. Especially since Marvin’s doesn’t seem like it gets a lot of customers.”

He had a point.

“Okay, the last I heard she worked at Dollar General, but I can look her up on Facebook and see if she put in her employment history.”

“Good idea. Let’s do it in the truck.”

Once we’d climbed inside, he started the engine while I found Deanna McElroy’s profile. “She posted a photo from Dollar General last week,” I said.

“While on the clock?”

“Or right after her shift. It’s a photo of an endcap she stocked. Nothing special, but she was pretty proud of it.”

He was about to pull out of his parking space, but he leaned closer, trying to get a look at the image of sloppily stacked graham cracker boxes, bags of marshmallows, and chocolate bars.