Page 58 of Holding On

She raises a hand. “It’s fine.” We’re in her front room. She’s been taking personal time all week. I suspect it’s because she’s been conferencing with Carlson. Then her eyes narrow. “Jewelry? Do you have jewelry?”

“No . . . it just came out. It seemed like a good way to get to the safe.”

“And he’s just going to hand over the combination?”

“No.” My stomach is not in a good place.

“This is not a good plan, Maya. No necklace, no rings or earrings, no combination, no plan.”

“It seemed pretty solid at the time. I’ve been lying to everyone. At least this time I was on a roll, and it felt fucking good.”

I clap a hand over my mouth.

Audrey stands and starts pacing around her beautifully accented living room. I glance at my phone. “I don’t have much time. I have to take an affidavit from this elderly man in Cushing. And the cab guy is here. It’s going to cost more—”

“Call the client and push it back half an hour. Barr won’t see the bill. That’ll be Gretchen, and she won’t notice. Which wall?”

“What?”

“The safe. Which wall?”

I describe the interior wall that faces north.

Audrey fingers her short, clipped hair and then tucks some behind an ear. “And how big is it?”

“Pretty good size. Maybe two feet square.”

Her eyebrows raise. Then she seems to make a decision. “Wait a minute. I’ll be right back. I may have something.”

When she returns, her bare feet pad down the steps quickly. “You can’t show up with nothing, and you can’t pretend you’re no longer worried, so give him this.”

She sets down a small square black snap box, and next to it, a long and slender case of beautiful blue velvet. The square holds a set of diamond earrings that sparkle and cast shimmering light when I open the case. But it’s the second—a necklace—that’s breathtaking.

It’s elegant, of heavy gold, with a sapphire as large as my thumb sitting in the middle, nestled in a swirl of tiny pearls and emeralds.

I can’t even touch it. “Are you sure you want to do this? You might lose it.”

“Hell, if I could get him for stealing my personal property, that would be fantastic. Petty, but fantastic. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? It ends up in the evidence room for four months?” Then she gazes at me. “Are you scared? Has he given any indication that he knows why you’re there?”

“No, on both counts.”

“You’re not trained for this, Maya. You don’t have to do this.”

I sigh. “There’s probably nothing in there. One thing I can say—this is far more exciting than business law.”

I lift the two jewelry cases from the table. “You’re sure?”

“Those earrings were my mother’s and are probably blood diamonds or something awful. Too gaudy. I’ve never worn them—and the necklace, very rarely. Andy gave it to me for our twentieth wedding anniversary years ago. I only trot it out for very special, formal occasions.” She smiles. “And those don’t happen much around here.”

“Okay,” I say, but there must be doubt in my voice.

She smiles. “Go get in that cab. I’m not worried. They’ll be locked away—let’s just hope there’s more in that safe.”

***

“I want to thank you so much for letting me do this.”

“It’s perfectly fine. You have them?”