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“It sounds like a long shot.”
Evan didn’t let the man’s tone bother him. Turner wasn’t wrong. “It is. And it will take a lot of man hours. Once I identify the facilities, I’ll look on their social media and see if I can spot your wife. Like you said, it’s a long shot and it’s labor intensive. I understand if you decide you don’t want me to pursue it.”
Evan knew before Turner spoke that the man wouldn’t tell him to stop. This was more than just trying to get back his family’s heirlooms. The old watch collection the women stole was worth a hell of a lot of money—in fact, more money than Evan would have guessed watches could cost. But there was something about the way the man spoke that told Evan this was about more than getting the watches back.
Whatever the man’s motivations, it meant he would pay for the ridiculous amount of legwork that needed to be done. That worked for Evan just fine. His daughter’s illness meant his medical bills were piling up. This job had come when he’d begun to think he would never be able to find a way through the mountain of debt they were facing.
“Do it,” Turner was saying. “I want those watches back. Have you had any luck tracking the watches themselves?”
“Still no news on them.” He’d already explained to Turner that although legitimate pawn shops and jewelers would check a database for reports of stolen goods before buying something like that, there was no report in this case.
Texas was a communal property state which meant that Turner’s wife had as much right to the jewelry and watches as he did. He hadn’t been able to file a police report and record the items as stolen. So no jeweler was going to see them pop up in the system.
Even if they had been stolen, it was possible the women sold them to a private collector who is purposefully staying ignorant on the origins of the items or to a store that isn’t careful about where it gets its goods.
“They had to have sold them. They have no other way to get money. My wife came from nothing.”
Evan didn’t answer. He had a feeling the man wouldn’t have accepted anything less than a woman who came from nothing, a woman who was reliant on him. Still, Evan had also done his own research on Turner’s wife and stepdaughter. They might not have come from money but they weren’t destitute.
The stepdaughter had worked two part time jobs and received scholarships to get her degree in Computer Software Engineering. She’d been the beneficiary on an annuity when her father had died eight years before her mother married Turner and she’d had a good job before the women left. Enough that she had been able to buy a mid-range car and pay it off in a year. From what Evan could see, the daughter lived frugally, putting money aside for savings at a rate that he would guess not many people her age did.
Of course, the account had been emptied and the car sold before they left.
Turner claimed he only wanted to find out where the women had sold the watches so he could get them back. Then he’d divorce his wife and walk away from it all.
Evan stood. “I’ll send you updates as I have them.”
Turner stood as well, hands on hips over the fancy belt he wore. “You do that. I want them found, Mr. Willows. I wasted too much time with a PI who didn’t know what he was doing. I’ll give you a month to turn something up and then I’m moving on to the next guy and the next after that until I find someone who can get this done.”
Evan nodded once before letting himself out of the office. He didn’t have any doubt Turner would do exactly what he said if he didn’t find something more to go on, and fast. Evan intended to do just that.
Chapter 8
“How is she?” Joy whispered since Evelyn’s eyes didn’t open when she walked in the room. She didn’t know if the older woman was sleeping or just resting her eyes.
“I’m perfectly fine! I keep telling Carl I’m perfectly fine and I’ll tell you the same thing. I’ve got a sprained knee not a broken hip.”
Evelyn said all this without opening her eyes so Joy didn’t bother to suppress her smile. Carl rolled his eyes.
“I see that. Both of you!” Evelyn still hadn’t opened her eyes but somehow, the effect of claiming to see something they were doing without using her eyes was utterly believable.
Joy wiped the smile off her face. “I was heading back to my cabin for the evening if you don’t need anything. I’ll be here in the morning with the pastries.”
They were a small lodge so they didn’t keep the front desk staffed at all times. Joy or Carl would cover it when they had people checking in and they usually spent some time there during the day, but the phone was forwarded to Carl and Evelyn’s quarters so people could reach someone when they were needed.
“No you won’t.” Now Evelyn opened her eyes and looked at Carl and Joy. “I’m making breakfast in the morning. The doctor said I can start putting weight on this leg for short stints and I can sit on one of the barstools when I’m rolling pastry out or cooking. I’m perfectly capable of getting breakfast out for our guests.”
Carl and Joy both opened their mouths, but Evelyn held up her hand. She wasn’t the kind of woman you argued with when she put that mothering look on her face.
“Enough. I’ll rest after breakfast and we would appreciate it if you could come up in the morning to help with the serving and clean up but I don’t need you to get pastries in town anymore. As of tomorrow, my kitchen is open again.”
Joy couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth for Evelyn and she smiled at the woman. She was glad she was on her way to being fully recovered because Joy couldn’t put off moving on much longer. She had been putting off counting the days, but she knew without looking at the calendar that she had another five days in town.
Her throat was a little thick when she spoke. “All right, then. I’ll see you both in the morning.” And if she ran out of there a little faster than she really needed to, no one seemed to notice.
She let herself out of the apartment Carl and Evelyn had at the back of the first floor of the lodge and then out the front door of the building. She started down the walkway that would lead to the small cabin she lived in at the back of the property but then turned, heading for her car instead.
The old Nissan sedan wasn’t pretty to look at and, in fact, she couldn’t even say it ran all that well, but it got the job done for her. She would be ditching it soon anyway. She would leave it at the bus depot when she got on a bus. She would take a few busses and trains before stopping someplace to buy another cheap old beater to get her through the next six months or so.
