Trouble's Wedding Caper: Book 8 of Cat Detective Familiar Legacy mystery series Page 16

  “No one was ever caught,” Ethan said, more a statement than a question.

  “Everyone with a motive had an alibi.”

  “What about the Hillary Monta break-in? Didn’t your office handle that?”

  Palmetto nodded. “But the feds took that one over. She has an ongoing stalker situation and much of the details of the case are being kept under wraps, trying to catch the culprit.”

  “What details were left out?” Ethan asked, scratching the back of his neck. There were dots missing that needed to be connected.

  “A note was left behind, but also all of Miss Monta’s underwear was mutilated.”

  “That’s twisted,” Ethan said. “I want to sit down and look at all the cases. There’s something bugging me, and I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Well, my girlfriend is in possession of a stolen diamond ring. We should go see what that’s all about.”

  “She’s your girlfriend now?” Palmetto asked with a wide smile and his right brow slanted upward.

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Don’t work too slow or she’ll be the one that got away.”

  Ethan followed Palmetto into the store where a well-dressed man greeted them. “I’m the owner, Jack. Thank you so much for coming.”

  “I’m Sheriff Palmetto, and this is Officer Ferris of the Jupiter Police Department.” Palmetto didn’t qualify why Ethan had tagged along, considering it wasn’t his jurisdiction.

  This particular store was popular with many of the rich and famous of Jupiter Island. The commercials and print ads all played to those who had money… Or those who wanted to look like a million dollars with pieces purchased from the items the jewelry store bought from the wealthy who had either grown tired of the design or had inherited the pieces. He knew this because both his mother and sister often stopped in to check out new pieces that had been authenticated.

  “Ethan,” Annabel said as she stood with Trouble in her arms. “I’m so sorry to drag you all the way out here,” she said.

  “You didn’t. Palmetto and I are working a couple of cases together that are similar, so he wanted my presence.” Ethan rested his hand on Annabel’s back, his thumb fanning across her tight muscles.

  “It was reported that Annabel has brought in a stolen ring,” Palmetto said to the store owner. “Have you contacted the original owners?”

  “Yes,” Jack said as he stood on the other side of the dark-colored desk. “They’re on their way in. They said you called as well.”

  “I had my office pull up the case number based on the information you gave to dispatch,” Palmetto said. “How can you be so certain this is the ring that was stolen?”

  “We custom-made it.” Jack took a stack of papers and handed it to Palmetto. “For an expensive stone like this, we do a gem print to have on file for our records as well as the client and their insurance company.”

  Ethan didn’t want to leave Annabel’s side, but he wanted a bird’s-eye view of the paperwork. He leaned over Palmetto’s shoulder, scanning the documentation, which included a couple of sketches of the ring, a digital proof, and pictures of the finished product along with an appraisal.

  Sixty-five thousand dollars.

  Ethan coughed.

  “It’s a one-of-a-kind design,” Jack added.

  “Miss Wilder,” Palmetto started, “where did you get the ring?”

  “I purchased an abandoned storage unit and the ring, along with a ton of other wedding items were all included in the sale.” Annabel’s voice was calm and confident. “I don’t have a full listing of the contents of the unit. I’m still working on it. However, everything except these items and a small box I have in my car,” she pointed to the tray on the desk, “are still housed at the facility.”

  “Excuse me, Jack,” a woman with blond hair said, tapping on the office door. “The Carmichaels are here.”

  “They are the owners of the ring,” Palmetto said.

  “May I take it to them?” Jack asked.

  “It’s evidence, so they can’t have it back just yet.” Palmetto snapped open a plastic bag. “But why don’t we go talk with them and have them ID the ring, and we can go from there.”

  “Can I keep these other items?” Annabel asked.

  “We need to find out first if they were stolen or not. Otherwise, yes. They’re yours, but I’ll need to hold on to them for now.” Palmetto carefully placed the sparkling diamond ring in the evidence bag. “Miss Wilder, I’ll need an official statement. Why don’t you wait outside with Officer Ferris.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Ethan waited until the room had cleared, watching Annabel gather her shoulder bag and the empty jewelry pouch. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t honestly know,” she said, staring at him with her cobalt eyes, her lashes fanning her cheeks when she looked down. “It’s been a weird day, to say the least.”

  He needed to get her out of this stifling office and someplace where they could talk. “Come on. Let’s go talk about all the strangeness.” Ethan guided her out of the office, down the short hallway, through the main showroom, where they garnered a few looks, before pushing open the front door and stepping into the Florida heat. “We’re going to have to go through all the items in your unit and check to see if any of them have been reported stolen.”

  “I figured as much,” she said, letting out a long breath. “I’ve been trying to understand why someone, specifically a man, would have wedding stuff locked up in storage. I thought maybe he bought and sold. I mean, Rosie told me she would have rented her dress.”

  Ethan laughed, taking Trouble into his arms. “I think I just heard my mother gasp. She thinks used anything, except your something old, which should be an antique family handkerchief, is distasteful.”

  Trouble meowed as if in agreement.

  “How do you know a man owned your storage unit? Confidentiality laws would prevent them from telling you.” He scratched the top of the cat’s head, who licked his paw as if he couldn’t care less about the conversation.

  “Another treasure hunter named Tara Rivers—”

  “As in Blaine Rivers’ wife?”

  Trouble lifted his head from the meticulous grooming of his paw.

  “You know her?” Annabel said, tilting her head. Her lips curled into a half-smile.

  “Her husband is a supporter of the police department, so they attend the First Responders Ball every year. Nice couple. I didn’t know she bought abandoned storage units.”

  “Well, she does. And she donates the contents to various charities. Anyway, she said a man came and went from the storage unit, but she didn’t know his name. And the day I bought the unit, a man with—God, how could I have been so stupid.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ethan asked.

  “The day I bought the unit, there was an irate customer. He had on a baseball cap. I’m not sure, but I think it might have been the same man that was at my condo this morning.”

  Ethan’s pulse raced. Nothing like a good potential crack in the case. “Why do say that, exactly?”

  “It didn’t really register that day, but the more I think about the man in that car today, and the design on the cap… I think it could be the same guy.”

  “Do you recognize the logo? Or the man?”

  “No to both questions. But I think the design is from a golf course. I gave a description to Tara. Her husband knows golf. I was also going to call my dad.”

  “Do you think you could draw it for me?” Ethan asked.

  “Sure.”

  Ethan pushed back a wave of Annabel’s hair that had fallen over her eye. “It’ll take me a while to get a warrant for the facilities to release the name of the previous owner, but if I find another stolen item in your unit, it will go much quicker.”

  “There are receipts and ledgers in the boxes. I haven’t had time to go through it all. But I bet we can find something. Not that I want anything to be stolen, bu
t I’m sure we can find a clue.”

  The last thing Ethan needed was for Annabel to turn all Nancy Drew. “Once I have a list of everything, I’ll have to comb through police reports and try to find a match. But I want you to stay out of it. Leave the detective work to me.”

  Trouble cocked his head, giving Ethan an odd look.

  “Speaking of detective work,” she said with a bright smile.

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” Ethan knew she had an inquisitive nature, always asking questions. He admired that, but wished in this case, she’d leave the police work to him.

  “I ran into Craig, my boss, this morning, and I found out why he’s being sued.”

  “What does that have to do with this?” Ethan asked.

  “I don’t know that it does, except his ex is suing him for assets as if they had been married.”

  “I’ve seen that happen before. In fact, there’ve been a number of high-profile cases over the years that the major news outlets covered like the tabloids do.”

  “I asked him why he never got married in the first place, and he told me every time his mother got married, she would start cheating on her husband. Craig thought that trait might have been passed down to him.” Annabel leaned against the patrol car. “He told me that his girlfriend quit her job because she was pregnant, but she later lost the baby.”

  Ethan opened his mouth, but she waved her finger.

  “The gossip from her place of employment is that she was let go and was having an affair with another employee.”

  “You’re talking about Sarah Silvers, right?”

  “You know her, too?”

  “I’m a cop. I know a lot of people,” Ethan said. “Do you remember how Palmetto showed up at the house in front of my condo building last night?”

  “I do. Why?” Annabel asked.

  “That’s Sarah’s house.”

  “Oh, that’s just creepy.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I’ve come to be brassed off by storage facilities. Even a climate controlled one. They are dark and musty. I can’t imagine this one is doing the wedding dresses any favors with the dust collecting everywhere in thick clumps that could suffocate a mouse.

  “There’s no picture of the unopened wedding presents, but I think those might be them.” Annabel sits cross-legged on the floor, pointing to a stack of gifts.

  “Could be. But there are no tags or cards and when asked to describe the wrapping paper, the couple didn’t remember. Might be hard to actually match those. And they could be gifts that whoever owned this joint bought for other weddings.” I know Ethan well enough now to know that’s not what he’s thinking at all. He likes to muddle through things, keeping his mind open to all possibilities.

  This is why he’s a good cop.

  “I did find wedding invites.” Annabel tips over a couple of boxes and begins to examine the contents, snapping pictures with her phone, and documenting the items in a notebook while comparing them to a printout of stolen wedding items that Ethan gave her, along with correlating photos.

  “Let’s see if we can find any other stolen items and then go through those invitations.” Ethan is going through a box near the back of the unit. His printout is resting on a small dresser that was tucked in the back corner.

  They’ve only been at this for about ten minutes. The list of stolen items is short, and there is a ton of stuff to sift through in order to find them.

  They could use my brill skills.

  I gracefully leap up on the dresser, using my paws to move the papers about. I eye the images, so I know exactly what I’m looking for.

  I make my way to a box in the back corner that has yet to be examined. The top is open. I peer inside, reaching in my paw, and I carefully push aside a white hanky. My claw gets caught in a tiny hole.

  Wonderful.

  I press with my other paw and break free without tearing the dainty piece of fabric.

  Ethan glances in my direction and smiles.

  I’m not smiling. Not one bit.

  I stick my nose back into the box and let out a big cat sneeze. Damn dust is not only going to make me all congested, but it’s going to make my shiny coat dull, which then will require a bath.

  I’m not much in the mood to spend the rest of the day grooming when it’s obvious the bipeds need my keen attention to detail in solving these wedding caper thefts. The lovely Annabel’s reputation has been besmirched by association with stolen items. That cannot—and will not--stand.

  I spy a velvety pouch under a short stack of papers. I’m going to need to get in the box in order to retrieve it, a concept I’m not thrilled by, but I do as I must to save the day.

  The papers shift easy enough under my clever touch, but the pouch sinks deeper between a small box of what I believe to be thank you cards and the cardboard sides of the container. Tentatively, I stretch out my paw, balancing myself on the unstable papers.

  “What are you doing, Trouble?” Ethan asks, startling me a tad.

  The papers shift, but I hold my ground as my claws hook the string that holds the sack together. Thankfully, whatever is inside is light. I lift my paw, but the pouch gets stuck on something. The papers budge, sliding down into a small space. I move my feet, as if I’m on a treadmill, though I’m scurrying arse about-face. Two pieces of paper fly up in the air and tumble out of the box.

  We cats do always land on our feet, but I have to kick and meow like a mad catter, twisting and contorting my body in all sorts of strange directions to make that happen.

  The pouch caught on my paw flips into the air.

  My paws hit the floor, and I slide across the slippery surface. The object of my attention lands haphazardly in front of me.

  “What did you find?” Ethan saunters over. He’s got a laid-back swagger that I bet creates quite a stir with all the ladies, but now it’s time for action and I would prefer he didn’t mosey but got a move on.

  Ethan bends over, scooping me and the pouch into his strong arms with ease. His fingers dig into the sweet spot behind my ears. I let out a deep, throaty purr, showing off my enthusiasm.

  Using his teeth, Ethan pulls out the drawstring of the pouch until it is loose. “Let’s take a look-see.” He shakes the tiny bag. A delicate silver ring with a modest yet tasteful diamond drops out onto the dresser top.

  The sun catches the rock at just the right angle, sending a prism of light through the storage unit, like so many tiny bolts of lightning.

  I recognize it from one of the images of stolen rings on the printout.

  “Holy smokes,” Ethan mutters. He rubs his finger and thumb together, hovering over the ring, but he doesn’t pick it up. “No damn way.”

  “What is it?” Annabel calls from the other side of the unit.

  “It’s the ring I gave to Quinn.”

  “Ring? As in engagement ring? The one that was stolen?”

  “Exactly,” Ethan says, setting me down on the ground.

  Well, I’ll be gobsmacked. What are the chances?

  Ethan held the ring up toward the few rays of sunshine reaching into the storage unit. The diamond was close to a half carat. It wasn’t huge by any means, but it sparkled like it belonged on the finger of a princess.

  Or at least he’d thought that the day he bought it.

  “Are you sure that’s the ring?” Annabel asked. Her warm hand rested on his arm as she peered over his shoulder.

  “I suppose I can’t be positive since there aren’t any special markings or anything on it, but it sure looks like the one I gave Quinn.” A bitter taste lingered on his tongue as he examined the ring more closely. The diamond was nestled in a six-prong setting, perched up high, making it look bigger. He always worried she’d get it caught on something and then the prongs might loosen, letting the rock slip out, but he loved the way the high setting made it sparkle and catch the light.

  Quinn had worn the ring for only a day, saying she needed to have the band adjusted. At first, he thought that she
didn’t like the ring, or it wasn’t big enough, which pissed him off. However, now he realized she hadn’t worn it simply because she no longer loved him.

  Maybe she never loved him.

  “Are you okay?” Annabel’s honey-laced voice drew him out of the past, reminding him that the present had the promise of something bigger and brighter.

  His pulse kicked up a notch, and he smiled. “It’s ironic that Quinn just gave me the insurance check for this.”

  “It’s really pretty.”

  “When I bought it, I felt queasy. I thought the uneasy feeling in my stomach was because I was spending a ridiculous amount of money on a ring, but looking at it now, I know it was because deep down, I knew she didn’t love me.” He stuffed the ring in his pocket and turned. “I don’t know why I proposed. Panic, I suppose.” He drew Annabel into his arms. “Then I saw you at Rosie’s wedding, and I think deep in the Neanderthal part of my brain, I knew I was headed down the wrong path.”

  She smiled. “You saw me, alright. My stomach will never be the same.”

  “That was dangerous and if Devin hadn’t come downstairs, I have no idea what might have happened that night, but back then, it would have been a mistake.”

  “What about now?”

  He answered by brushing his lips across hers. It was an invitation into his world, and she accepted it with earnest.

  He broke off the kiss. They had all the time in the world to explore what was happening between them. But he was on the job, in uniform, with a stolen ring in his pocket.

  Trouble hissed, catching his attention.

  “What is it?” Ethan crouched down to Trouble’s level, scanning the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. “Show me what’s bugging you.”

  Trouble took off across the parking lot.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Annabel asked.

  “Following that cat. You.” He waved his finger at her. “Stay here.”