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“Oh, my. You didn’t hear,” Judith said, with hand to her chest and a head tilt. “Edward passed away last spring.”
“Oh.” Tati cleared her throat, embarrassed, as Morales placed his arm around Judith’s shoulder. “Our lovely Mrs. Holland had some very interesting information she wants to share.” He turned to the woman and hugged her tighter to him. “Go ahead, my little dumpling.”
Grant couldn’t help but grimace, moving to the table and chairs by the window. “Please have a seat, Mrs. Holland,” he said, removing the empty bag that was once full of potato chips before Tati had gotten ahold of it earlier in the day.
“Yes, thank you,” she said as Morales led her to the chair and pulled it out for her.
After settling, she looked up at Morales, and he gave an encouraging nod.
“Well, as I told Deputy Assistant Morales—”
Tati’s nostrils flared, and her body jerked at what had to have been a blatant lie concerning his position with the Bureau. Grant grabbed Tati’s hand and secured her shoulder beneath his to keep her under control as Judith continued, “I remembered Marshall, when he was becoming more and more ill, called me and asked me to purchase a locket. He said he wanted to give it to Mia as a surprise.”
Morales added, “What was of particular interest was the specific dimensions of the locket.”
Mrs. Holland nodded as Morales stroked her back. “That’s right. It had to be able to hold something that was very small. At first, I thought it was for a picture, but the dimensions were 16.7 millimeters by 2.3 millimeters.”
Grant looked at Tati. “Big enough to fit a 32GB thumb drive.”
She nodded back, as if thinking the same.
Morales stood just behind Judith’s chair and laid his hands on the woman’s shoulders, who practically cooed at the attention. “We apologize for taking so long, but we had to go to Judith’s house to search for the receipt that had the exact dimensions noted, and I guess we got…distracted.”
Judith smiled behind her hand as if she were in her twenties and after having had a one-night stand. “You were very persuasive,” she said, looking up at him as if he were the cover model of a romance novel.
Tati turned her head toward Grant, once again. “Ew.”
Morales pulled the assumed piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Tati. “I believe the information you’re looking for might be in that locket. The receipt includes a custom engraving on the back that reads, ‘Everything you will ever need is in my heart.’”
Grant and Tati looked at one another again, but this time with concern as they said at the same time, “Mia.”
Lifting his phone from the desk next to the television screen, Grant called Bernadette. Praying that for once she’d pick up, rather than having to search the house, following the sound of the ringtone, and realizing, thirty minutes later, she’d left it in her knitting bag.
“Grant?” His foster mom’s voice was drowsy as if she’d just woken up. “It’s late, is everything okay? Is it Mia? Is she all right?”
“Is she not with you?” he asked, glancing at Tati.
“No, she’s said she was spending the night with the Chief and Lorraine.”
“Oh, that’s good. No, there’s no problem. I apologize for calling so late but I need to speak with Angus. It’s regarding Birdie and Lucas. Nothing dire, they’re both doing well and send their love. Birdie’s looking for a piece of jewelry and was wondering if Angus knew where it was.”
“Let me get up and see if he’s awake. The man stays up till all hours of the morning, like a skin-sharing haint. Then spends his evenings entertainin’ the ladies like some red-haired gigolo.”
Grant could hear her knocking on what must have been the elderly Scot’s door.
Then, Bernadette was saying, “No, I haven’t come to my senses, you old coot. You may think you’re God’s gift to women, but this woman thinks you’re no better than a bull in heat.”
Angus must have grabbed the phone but was still talking to Bernadette. “Yer no ready to commit to me. But I be a patient man, me Bernie luv.”
“In your high-handed Scottish dreams.” Then a door slam.
The Scot must have been sitting up in bed, murmuring to himself, “Woman be the mother o’ mischief an’ no bigger than a midge’s wing.”
“Angus?” Grant raised his voice in case he was crawling back under the covers.
“Aye. Top ’o the mornin’ to ye,” Angus said into the phone, and then correcting himself, “Or, the evenin’.”
“I’m calling because I need your help.” Grant held off an equally concerned and energetic Tati, who was using hand gestures to indicate he needed to put the phone on speaker. After accommodating her, and they could both hear Angus’s gravelly voice, he asked, “I was wondering, do you know anything about a necklace Marshall gave to Mia? Anything at all?”
