He removed the ring from an envelope stored in a drawer behind the counter. “I didn’t want to take a chance one of the other guys would sell it,” he explained as he opened the flap and upended the envelope over his palm.
A tiny ring dropped out, making no sound as it hit the clerk’s palm. Lucas picked it up and studied it. The gold, none too substantial to begin with, was worn thin at the shank. Eight diamond chips almost invisible to the naked eye surrounded a ninth. All were set in white gold shaped like a round flower. He recognized the ring. He’d seen it on Gunther’s wife’s finger often enough.
“I gave the guy twenty bucks for it,” the clerk said. “I’m not supposed to buy stolen property, but you said you were looking for it. My girlfriend said sixty-two years is a long time to be married. I didn’t want it to disappear again.”
Lucas pulled out his wallet and withdrew two tens. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” the clerk said.
“Let’s take a look at your footage,” Lucas said.
“Cameras are just for show,” the clerk admitted. “They’ve been broken for weeks.”
He showed the clerk the pictures he’d copied at the station before coming down to Brookings. “Any of these guys the ones who pawned the ring?”
The clerk shook his head to the first three pictures, all known meth addicts and small-time losers. He studied the next picture more closely. “Almost, but not quite,” he said. “Like, that could be the guy’s brother.”
Lucas slid the final picture to the top of the pile.
“That’s him,” the clerk said. “That’s the kid who pawned the ring.”
His heart sank. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch if this goes to court.”
He tucked Gunther’s ring carefully into the breast pocket of his shirt and headed out the door, into the sunshine.
? ? ?
WHEN HE PULLED off County Road 46 into the ruts that led to the Burton trailer, Alana’s Audi was already parked by the front door. She stood on the rickety steps leading into the trailer, holding the door open for Cody.
“Lucas,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Get away from the door,” Lucas said, striding up the dirt path.
She blinked, her eyes going wide as he reached behind him for his handcuffs, then hurried down the steps to stand on the bedraggled grass beside the stairs. Cody appeared in the door.
“Come here, Cody,” Lucas said evenly.
“What are you doing here?”
“Now.”
Cody hitched his long, skinny body down the steps. “What?”
“Where’s your mother?”
“Yesterday was payday. She took the little kids to McDonald’s for breakfast.”
“Your brother inside?”
Cody blocked Lucas. “He’s sleeping.”
Lucas heard scuffling at the back of the trailer, then the sound of a door slamming. With a muttered curse, he leaped off the stairs and sprinted past Alana, gaining speed and traction as he rounded the corner of the trailer. Colt Burton was running flat out through the field, toward the creek.
It was pointless. There was nowhere to go. Colt had built up some muscle in prison, but Lucas had speed and endurance on him. He brought him down in a flying tackle a few yards from the slope to the creek bed. The impact knocked the wind out of Colt, giving Lucas enough time to get him cuffed.
He hauled him to his feet. Colt doubled over again, the panic on his face no doubt a mixture of an inability to breathe and being back in police custody. This didn’t stop him from trying to twist out of Lucas’s grip.
Cody and Alana stood side by side at the end of the trailer, watching all of this. Alana held one arm across her stomach while the other hand covered her mouth. Cody’s hands were fisted impotently.
“What the fuck are you doing to my brother?”
“Your brother just pawned Gunther Jensen’s ring at a pawn shop in Brookings,” Lucas said.
Cody looked at Colt, who was still gasping for air. “Is that true?”
Colt refused to look at his brother. “Fuck, no.”
“Did you break into Gunther’s house?”
“Fuck off.”
“He didn’t,” Cody said, half-pleading, half-asserting. “He didn’t. He’s met his curfew. He’s seeing his parole officer. He’s looking for jobs. He wouldn’t do that to us.”
Alana’s face was a frozen mask, but Lucas could see the sorrow and horror in her eyes.
“Where’d you get the ring?”
“I didn’t pawn any damn ring!”
“The clerk identified you.”
“He’s lying.”
“Was he home last night?” Lucas asked Cody.
“Yes,” Cody said defiantly. Color stood high on his cheekbones.
“Don’t lie to me,” Lucas said. “I will arrest you for obstructing justice and lying to a police officer. Do not fucking lie to me.”
“Lucas,” Alana said quietly.
Eyes locked on Cody’s, Lucas held up one finger. He wasn’t pointing at her, just reminding her that this was police business, not hers. “Was your brother home last night?”
Fury and shame and sheer hatred shifted across Cody’s face, aimed at Lucas because he couldn’t aim it at his brother. “He came home an hour ago.”
“Oh, God,” Alana said.