Page 74 of Evidence of Secrets

“Miss Clark. Miss Clark.” A hand on her shoulder roused Laura from her memory.

“Sorry, just daydreaming.”

“No problem. This is a valuable ring. Have you any idea how much it’s worth?”

She shook her head.

“Mind you, I would have to have it formally appraised, but this is a natural, oval sapphire with excellent color, weighing about four carats. The two half-moon diamonds weigh approximately one carat together. I think the approximate value is about fifty thousand dollars, maybe more. I know it won’t last long in the shop.”

Laura was sure her mouth was open, but no words came out.

Never had she imagined it would be worth that much. Fifty thousand would keep her bistro in business for quite a while. She wished she could ask her mother why they had so little when she could have sold the ring and made their lives more comfortable.

“Miss Clark. Is this something you’d like to pursue?”

Laura gave him a small smile. “I think not today, Mr. Lipton.”

They stood and shook hands, and Laura walked out into the humid air. She wanted that money. She needed that money. But at what cost?

Her mother worked herself to the bone, providing the basics for her and Laura. She left Laura a life insurance policy and this ring. Her inheritance. Oh, she couldn’t forget her grandmother’s recipe box. They were the only heirlooms she owned.

No, she wouldn’t sell the ring. Saving her bistro wasn’t worth it.

The bistro had been her goal for a long time. She achieved it, so maybe it was time to find another goal.

The recipe box and the ring were her mother’s legacy. She couldn’t break her family’s trust.

CHAPTERFIFTY-TWO

Jaimie stared blankly at her computer. Outside of Levi getting hurt, nothing much was happening at the bistro.

Originally, she had chosen four restaurants in Florida owned by women when she went undercover. The first one she worked in was in Miami and had theft issues. As a server, she could watch meals being voided, dinners improperly rung up, and lots of drinks and meals that were not processed. The owner had no idea how they were able to steal until she received an anonymous tip. Jaimie was happy to oblige.

She didn’t expect to find any problems with Laura’s bistro, but the break-in was confusing.

What did the intruder want? What was in that room that the man wanted? It was a small room with attached shelves on one wall. Was that one wall important? Would he be back? Bah. Today, she’d go to the building department and look up the plans for the bistro. She wondered how complete they were. They probably only listed permits for work done and the dimensions of the building.

Ryan was coming over later since she didn’t have to work, so there was a lot of investigating to be done. She quickly showered and dressed. The city offices were downtown, about a twenty-minute drive from her apartment.

The concrete building department sat between a municipal park and a museum. The courthouse was a block away, and the tax collector was a block in the other direction.

She parked in the garage, walked to the elevator, and pushed the button for the third floor. There was no one at the information desk, so she wandered around looking at local artwork. When the receptionist returned, Jaimie asked to see the inspector of the day.

Jaimie took a seat, waiting for the inspector. When her name was called, she followed the receptionist to the back offices and into a small cubby.

“Miss Walton, what can I do for you today?” He sat back and clasped his hands.

Jaimie gave him the bistro’s address and asked to get a copy of the plan. The inspector pulled up the address, wrote a number, and asked her to wait.

Ten minutes later, he came back with a rolled-up set of plans.

“These are complete, as far as I know. A few things have changed in the interior, but the exterior is the same.”

Jaimie thanked him, paid the fee, and walked back to her car. When she got home, she unrolled the plans. An hour later, she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She rolled them up, put the plans in her closet, made herself a cup of tea, and relaxed with a book.

“Mommy, when’s Daddy coming home?”

“Oh, Jaimie, I told you he had to go away for a while.” Her mommy always said that. Daddy never came home. He left a gazillion years ago when she was just three; now she was six and still no daddy.

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