Page 2 of Defending You
Cici assumed Brooklynn had texted him as well, letting him know to expect Cici’s call. “You won’t believe what I’ve found.”
“Tell me.” He must’ve picked up on her mood because his voice turned serious.
“It’s The Crimson Duchess. I’m almost positive.”
“Where? How do you…? Are you sure?”
“Hold on.” She snapped a photo of it and texted it to him. “You tell me.”
The doorbell chimed in the store, cutting through the silence. Mr. D buzzed the customers in.
On the other end of the line, Forbes sucked in a breath. “I don’t believe it. How in the world…?”
“Somebody brought it into a jewelry store with a whole bagful of other stuff, like it didn’t even matter.”
“I have a photograph of it here somewhere. Hold on one minute.”
She heard heavy footsteps on hardwood. “Hurry. I need to figure out what to do.”
“Good afternoon.” From the other room, a man’s voice was smooth as a serpent’s slink.
She usually treated customers’ conversations like background noise, but every sense was on alert right now.
“I wonder,” the man continued, “is the charming young saleswoman here? I believe my son did business with her a couple of days ago.”
The man must’ve been asking about Mr. D’s niece. As far as Cici knew, he didn’t employ anyone else.
“Maria works Tuesdays and Thursdays. What can I do for you?”
“Surely you’re not alone here with all these beautiful jewels.”
“That’s why I keep the door locked and the cameras running. I’m the only one working the counter today.”
“Cici.” Forbes spoke through the phone. “That’s it. That’s Mom’s necklace. Where are you exactly?”
“I’m at a store in Philadelphia. What do you want me to do? Should I call the police or?—?”
“I’ll reach out to my contact at the FBI. But you need to make sure that they don’t display that necklace or sell it. Would you be able to do that, or should I have the special agent call?”
“Yeah, I think I can…”
“Sir, you’re not allowed back here.” She’d never heard Mr. D raise his voice before. “Return to the other side of the counter or I’ll be forced to call the police.”
“Cici?” Forbes prompted.
“Shh.” There was some commotion. She crept to the doorway leading to the store and peeked through.
A man stood behind Mr. D with his arm around his neck. By the way Mr. D jerked, he was struggling.
Another man, heavy-set with blue jeans and a tight-fitting black T-shirt, stood guard. His head was shaved, and he watched the door, blocking the view from outside with his wide body. He’d closed the blinds over the windows.
Aside from the classical music, the room was silent.
And then Mr. Delvecchio collapsed.
Cici couldn’t make sense of it.
Had that man just…just committed murder?
