Page 83 of Skin and Bones

“Anyway,” Deidre continued. “The jeweler wouldn’t give us a name, but he confirmed he did an engraving for a watch that matches our description. That’s all he would tell us.”

“When did he come in?” Dash asked.

“Last week,” Deidre confirmed with a triumphant smile. “Paid extra for a quick turnaround.”

“Whoever ordered it knew exactly what the original looked like,” Dash said.

“Too bad Mr. High and Mighty at the jewelry store wouldn’t give us a name,” Dottie said.

“Time to get a warrant,” Dash said, pulling out his phone.

“Does that mean we’re taking a road trip to Charleston?” I asked.

Dash’s eyes met mine, a silent question in them. “You sure you’re up for it after last night?”

“As long as we’re not walking there I’m fine,” I said, grinning.

Within the hour, Dash and I were on our way to Charleston, cruising along the coastal highway in his SUV. The bandages on my wrists itched, and my feet still smarted from the splinters, but the discomfort felt distant, overshadowed by the anticipation of getting answers.

“Have you ever been married?” I asked as we crossed the causeway, surprising myself with my directness.

Dash glanced at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Personal questions equal a date,” he said. “The level of question determines the level of date.”

I paused for a second and pressed my lips together. “Dinner. But not on Grimm Island. I’ve had enough of people staring at me for a while.”

“Deal,” Dash said, looking much too smug for my liking. “Then to answer your question, no, I’ve never been married. Came close once, during my time with the DEA. Job got in the way—undercover work isn’t exactly conducive to healthy relationships.”

“Do you regret it?” I pressed, feeling bold in my polka dots and bandages.

“Not anymore,” he replied.

Marconi’s Fine Jewelry occupied a prime corner of King Street, its elegant façade and discreet signage suggesting old money and refined taste. As soon as we stepped through the door, my senses were assaulted by the overwhelming scent of vanilla and sandalwood—an expensive cologne trying too hard to create an ambiance of luxury. The lighting was calibrated to make every surface gleam, from the polished mahogany display cases to the diamonds nestled on velvet cushions.

A man materialized from the back, moving with the theatrical flourish of someone who’d once dreamed of Broadway but settled for retail. He was tall and rail thin, with a shock of silver hair styled in a gravity-defying pompadour that added a good three inches to his height. His charcoal suit was impeccably tailored, and he wore more rings than Dottie—no small feat.

“Welcome to Marconi’s,” he greeted, his voice carrying just enough Italian accent to seem exotic without being difficult to understand. “A couple in love. Here for an engagement ring. How wonderful?”

His smile dimmed as Dash showed him his badge. “One of my deputies called earlier and spoke to someone about a watch.”

“That was one of your deputies?” he asked. “The elderly woman?”

Dash paused before he answered, but said, “Yes.”

“Interesting,” he said. “I am Vincent Marconi. How can I be of service?”

“The watch,” Dash said, pulling out a picture of the one that was left on my island counter.

Vincent’s dark eyes flickered with recognition and he said, “Yes, as I told the fine deputy this was one of our higher quality watches. The customer paid cash, and paid extra for an expedited engraving. But I’m afraid I have a reputation for keeping my clients’ privacy. That’s all I was able to tell her.”

“He asked for this watch specifically when he came in?” Dash asked.

Vincent opened his mouth to speak, and then paused. “Well, now that you mention it, no. He came in with another photograph. An older photograph. I assumed it was an heirloom he’d lost and was trying to replace.”

“He was looking for that specific watch?” I asked.

“He was looking for someone who could do a custom commission and replicate it. But I told him a piece like that would take at least two months, and it would cost him. He didn’t seem to care about cost though. But he did seem upset that I couldn’t get the piece commissioned sooner. That’s when I suggested this piece. It’s very similar, though the scrollwork is a bit different, as well as the diamond face. It’s a fine piece.”

“He was in a hurry,” I said to Dash.

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