Okay. If there are jewels, where would he hide them?
Her eyes went to the freezer compartment above the refrigerator. She stepped briskly across the kitchen and pulled open the freezer door. There wasn’t much in there. A tray of crusty ice cubes, two frozen spaghetti dinners, a half loaf of garlic bread, and a carton of strawberry gelato.
She grabbed the gelato and pulled off the top. It was nothing but a swirl of pink dessert. With a touch of freezer burn at that.
Theodosia put the gelato back, closed the freezer door, and spun around. What else? Where else? She stepped hesitantly across the linoleum, hearing it crackle softly beneath her feet. Felt her way along and ended up in a small living room. There was an ugly overstuffed sofa, the kind that sold for two hundred bucks at some awful furniture-barn-type place, a coordinating chair, a flat-screen TV mounted on one wall, and a small desk.
She moved to the desk and started riffling through the drawers.
There wasn’t much there. Paper, pencils, a few stamps, a map of South Carolina, an envelope filled with canceled checks. She leafed through the checks, saw nothing that seemed strange or out of place. No big payoff from a fence in Miami.
“Theodosia,” came a strangled voice. Drayton was calling to her.
She went back to the kitchen and found him peering nervously through the screen door.
“Let’s go,” he hissed. He tapped at his wristwatch. “Time’s running out. It isn’t safe.”
“Hang on a minute.” Theodosia was reluctant to give up so easily. Then her eyes fell upon a door. She stepped over and pulled it open. A dark stairway led down to a cellar. “One minute,” she called again, then flipped on the cellar light, started down.
The cellar was surprisingly clean and well lit, with climbing and camping gear strewn everywhere. But it was organized chaos. A pegboard for rope, shelves for tents and backpacks and cooking gear.
But where’s his rock hammer?
Theodosia poked around, opened boxes, and dug through a backpack, but couldn’t find it.
If Marcus Clement had used his rock hammer to smash the glass cases at Heart’s Desire, would he have disposed of it? Would he get rid of evidence that might contain microscopic particles of telltale glass? She knew it was a possibility. And as far as jewelry went, it could have already been fenced, buried for safekeeping, or stuck in any number of lock boxes across the state.
Or Marcus Clement might be completely innocent. Which meant her trip here had been in vain. A projection of her overactive imagination.
Okay, Drayton was right. She should get out of here. Quick, before somebody came home. Before they were both tagged as intruders and the police called in to investigate.
? ? ?
“I can’t believe you stayed inside for so long,” Drayton said. “You realize that was an actual home invasion.” They were back in Theodosia’s Jeep, sitting in the darkness, nerves positively frayed. “Probably a felony offense.”
“I thought maybe . . .” Theodosia stopped. What had she thought, really? That an amateur rock climber was also a professional jewel thief? Was she grasping at straws or diligently chasing down leads? She turned on the ignition, put her Jeep in gear, and coasted slowly down the street. Just because a lead didn’t pan out didn’t mean . . .
“Watch out!” Drayton screamed.
Theodosia jammed her foot down on the brake and rocked to a stop. “Now what?”
Drayton was craning his neck, peering through the windshield, and then twisting and turning to look out the side window. “I think we almost hit a dog.”
Theodosia’s heart leapt into her throat. “Oh no. I didn’t see him.” It was her worst nightmare come true. She had been distracted and not concentrating on what was in the road ahead of her. And now she’d run down a poor, innocent creature. “Where is . . . ?” She followed Drayton’s gaze.
“There it is,” Drayton said.
Theodosia blinked. There, cowering at the edge of her headlights, was a small brown-and-white fuzzy dog. The creature looked scared, half-starved, and had apparently been wandering right down the middle of the street. “Dear Lord, do you think it’s okay?” she asked.
“Poor thing,” Drayton said. He immediately jumped out of the car and ran over to the dog.
“Drayton.” Now Theodosia had leapt from her car, too. “Is he okay? Or she?”
“I think so.” Drayton was on his hands and knees in the street, seemingly not caring that his trousers were getting filthy. He gently gathered the dog into his arms. “Poor little thing. No collar. And, look, her coat is completely matted and filthy. I do believe the little thing is a stray, that she’s been trying to get by living on the street.”