“That’s not going to happen, Lynn. You’ve worked hard and earned your success. You’re living your dream. Believe it.”
She pulled open the door and started to step out, turning back at the last moment. “You’re right. I have worked hard. And now that Chuck’s gone and I can really put my past to rest, maybe I can finally start enjoying my new life.”
*
SEAN WAS SURPRISED but happy to see me when I arrived at the Dunston Police Department. He met me in the lobby to escort me to his desk on the second floor. The police department was a three-story building located in the heart of Dunston’s downtown area. It was old and dingy, and a never-ending hub of precarious activities.
When we first started dating, Sean had given me a tour, avoiding the basement. I’d never been in the “pit,” as the cops referred to the lower floor of the station house where they held prisoners awaiting arraignment, but I could imagine it to be a dark, heinous dungeonlike space, full of nasty smells and vile criminals. I’d been able to pass off thoughts of that place in my mind, knowing the types of people it held. Only now my skin crawled to think that someone I knew, someone I believed was innocent, an agency’s “family member,” as it was, had sat in that very place for days. It was horrible that Jodi had to spend any time down there. At least now she’d been transferred to the county jail to await her trial. Sean had assured me it was a better facility and that she’d be placed in minimum security. I knew that Flora had planned to visit her yesterday. Which was probably why she missed work this morning. The stress of seeing her client and friend behind bars was probably too much for her.
When we got to his desk, Sean pulled a chair out for me and asked me to wait a second while he ducked into the printer room to make a few copies for an upcoming meeting. While I waited, I took in the activity around me; several officers were busy on their phones, others typing on their computers and paging through stacks of files. Toward the back of the room, I could see through an open door into one of the conference rooms. A group of men in suits were huddled around the table discussing something serious. Suddenly, a man in handcuffs and screaming obscenities was brought through and escorted toward one of the interview rooms. Surprisingly, his outburst didn’t seem to distract anyone from their work. Most of the officers didn’t even bother to look up. I did, though. I was mesmerized by the obscene tattoos that covered the top of his shaved head and wrapped around his left eye, almost like an eye patch. He caught me looking and for a second, our eyes locked and prickles of fear crawled along my skin.
I quickly glanced away, my eyes landing on Sean’s desk and something else that gave me goose bumps. This time, the tingling-in-a-good-way type of goose bumps. It was a ring! And not just any ring, but an engagement ring, sitting on a bare spot on his blotter desk pad. I’ve waited so long and here it is! My engagement ring! My heart pounded double time as I reached out, its sparkling diamond calling to me.
“Lila?”
Startled, I pulled my hand back, knocking a container of paper clips over in the process. “Sorry,” I said, scrambling to straighten the mess I’d made, trying to avoid looking at the ring. Did he see me looking at it? How horrible of me to ruin his surprise.
“That’s not what you’re thinking it is,” he said, settling into his chair and picking up the ring. “I’m sorry, Lila. But this is evidence.”
“Evidence?” Evidence of what? Our love for each other? What was he talking about?
He went on. “In Chuck Richards’s case. It was found on his body. I’ve been calling around, trying to track down the place that sold it to him.”
“Oh.” I swallowed hard, wondering if my cheeks looked as hot as they felt. “That ring was found on Chuck’s body?”
“Yes. In the pocket of his jeans. There was no box.”
I nodded, ready to change the awkward subject, but something niggled at my brain. I squinted and reached out my hand. “Can I see it?” A funny feeling overcame me as I rotated the ring in my fingers. I’d seen this ring before. Where? I noted the center square-cut, bezel-set stone flanked by small diamonds on either side. The band itself was yellow gold, worn smooth on the bottom, as if it’d been worn for years.
“You notice that, too?” Sean said after I showed him my observation. “The ring is old. Chuck probably picked it up at one of the local pawnshops.”