by Gen Griffin
Trish's chest tightened and her heart started pounding in her chest. “What's strange?” She asked.
“The band of your ring is 10 carat gold,” he sounded puzzled. “But its stamped 18 carat.”
“Oh.” Trish bit her lip in confusion. “That is...strange. But it is real gold?”
“It's real.” The fat man nodded. “Maybe it was stamped wrong.”
“Can that happen?” Trish tried to remember to breathe as she watched the pawn shop owner continue to examine her ring.
“Anything can happen.”
“What can you tell me about the diamond?” Trish knew she was being impatient but she didn't care.
The fat man looked down at the ring and then back up to her. “How'd the center stone get this big ol' scratch in it?”
Trish hesitated. She found herself staring out through the plate glass windows at the store. The Chevy was still parked outside. David was undoubtedly patiently waiting for her to come back outside and tell him how he had been right about Curtis's diamond.
“You know what scratched it?” The man asked.
Trish nodded.
He looked at her expectantly. It took her several seconds to realize that he expected her to tell him how the scratch had occurred.
“Can you tell me if the diamond is real?” Trish decided to skip the small talk.
The fat man turned the ring over in his hand a couple of times. He rubbed the tip of one large finger across the stone. “The stone is real.”
“Oh thank God.” Trish felt a shock of relief.
“But it ain't no diamond.”
“What?” Trish's heart dropped straight out of her chest and down into the pit of her stomach. “My ring is fake?”
“Depends on your definition of fake, sweetheart.” The pawn shop owner held the ring back out to Trish. “Want to tell me about that scratch in the stone?”
“A pocket knife,” she said shortly.
“A pocket knife?” His frown turned into a scowl.
“A pocket knife,” Trish confirmed as she cast another sideways glance at the Chevy that was still parked outside. “A...friend of mine... drug the tip of the blade of his knife across the stone. He said it wasn't a diamond.”
“A friend of yours?” The man followed her gaze to the truck waiting outside. The surprise in his eyes was obvious. “Cal Walker is the friend?”
Trish blinked and then shook her head. She had forgotten that everyone in Possum Creek recognized every vehicle on sight. “David Breedlove is my friend. He's driving Cal's truck.”
“David says your ring is fake.” The man repeated the words thoughtfully.
“He does,” Trish admitted reluctantly. “I came here hoping you could tell me he was wrong.”
The fat man turned the ring over in his hands one more time. “Your ring isn't exactly a fake, but if you were under the impression that this stone was a diamond then someone lied to you. Its a lab created white sapphire. Either that or a clear topaz. I ain't real sure which. The band is real gold. It just ain't as high of a carat as its stamped. The small stones to the sides look real. Once again, low quality, but real enough.”
“Its a good quality fake.” Trish summed up his assessment as she stared down at the ring in his palm.
“Yes ma'am. Its worth, probably, $70. I can give you that much for the gold if you still want to sell it.”
“Seventy bucks?” Trish felt utterly betrayed. “That's all?”
“Honey, that big stone ain't no diamond. If someone told you it was, he lied to you.” The fat man looked at her sympathetically as he pressed the ring back into Trish's hand. “Its a better fake than most. Probably cost $200 to $300 retail.”
“That's all?” Trish asked.
“That's all,” the fat man replied.
“Thank you.” Trish blinked back tears. She closed her fingers around the ring and crushed the metal into her palm. “Sorry for wasting your time.”
Chapter 23
Trish swallowed her pride as she walked back out of the pawn shop and into the bright sunny morning. As she reached the Chevy, Trish realized that David had fallen asleep in the driver's seat.
He was all long limbs and awkward angles. The position he was sleeping in didn't look remotely comfortable but he appeared cozy enough with one leg stretched down towards the pedals and the the other propped on the steering wheel. He had one arm thrown over his head and the other dangling into the inside door pocket. She was surprised to realize how young he looked when the tension was erased from his handsome face.
Trish climbed into the truck and closed the door quietly behind her. She didn't want to wake him up but his eyes popped open the moment the metal door latch clicked shut.
He blinked several times and stared at her with evident confusion. “What the hell?”
“Sorry,” she said. “Wasn't trying to wake you up.”
“I was asleep?” He scowled and straightened himself up in the seat. “Never mind. You don't have to answer that. I can feel it in my spine. I'm getting too damn old to be sleeping in a truck.”
“You should try going back to Addison's place and going to bed,” Trish suggested without really meaning it.
“Wouldn't do any good.” He rubbed his hands over his face and then reached for the energy drink in the cup holder. “I don't sleep worth a shit regardless of where I am.”
“You have insomnia?” Trish asked. She was grateful for a distraction.
“Ever since I was a kid,” David confirmed. He took a sip of the drink and then held it out to her. She hesitated for a minute and then decided she didn't care if she shared germs with him. She was exhausted and any little bit of caffeine would help.
“You take medication for it?”
“Used to,” he admitted. “I stopped once I moved out on my own.”
“You sleep better alone?” She asked with a small smile.
He let out a short laugh. “No. I just can't wake up when I'm on the meds. It doesn't matter how loud the alarm clock is. I'm basically dead to the world and I can't afford to be.”
“That kind of sucks.”
“Eh, you get used to it. It gives me a lot of free time.”
“You mean all the hours of the night when you're supposed to be sleeping?”
“That is precisely what I mean,” David agreed with a smirk. “But speaking of shit that sucks, what did Buddy say about your ring?”
Trish instinctively looked down at her left hand, even though she already knew exactly what she'd see. Even after three months, her finger was pale and dented where the ring's band had covered the skin for so long. She opened up the palm of her hand and showed the offending fake diamond to him. “It's not a diamond.”
“I know,” David said.
“Well, I didn't and I feel stupid.” Trish couldn't stop the hurt from seeping into her voice. She turned her head away from him as tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks.
“Shit. Trish-.” David reached for her arm and then pulled her to him. “I'm sorry. I'm an insensitive bastard, alright?”
Trish stiffened for a split second and then she felt the warmth of his t-shirt against her shoulders. She slumped back against him, allowing him to pull her close into his chest. She closed her eyes and twisted so that her face was buried in his shoulder.
“I'm just stupid.” Trish began to cry as she deposited the ring into the cup holder of the truck. “I am so stupid.”
“No, you're not.” David stroked her hair gently.
Trish didn't answer him as quiet sobs racked her body. All the disappointment and frustration she'd felt in the last year seemed to be coming out all at once. Every missed dinner, every lousy excuse, every mysterious girl's number in Curtis's cell phone call logs seemed to boil down into this one moment. This one ultimate breach of trust. Her ring was nothing more than a monumental lie. He'd pledged his love to her on a lie.
“Trish, honey. Please. I'm sorry.”
“I'm not upset at y
ou,” Trish whispered as she blinked up at him. “I wore that ring around for a year and I never suspected it was fake. You knew the first time you saw it.”
David took a deep breath and titled her chin up so that she was forced to look him in the eyes. “You only met me last night. You don't know my background. Yes, I did know your ring was fake, but that's because my father was a thief who made a habit out of stealing jewelry and then pawning it to buy drugs.”
“You're not serious,” Trish said.
“Unfortunately, I am. He's been dead since I was in high school and I still can't break myself of the habit of assessing every expensive looking piece of jewelry I see for its approximate street value. I do it because I was taught to do it before I even knew my ABC's.”
“You are serious.” Trish realized he was telling the truth.
David nodded, looking embarrassed. “Most people would never have given your ring a second look. You're not stupid for trusting that it was real. You loved him, right?”
“I thought I loved him,” Trish admitted. “I thought he loved me.”
“Trish-.”
“No. Stop. Don't try to make me feel better.” Trish took a deep breath leaned her cheek back against his shoulder. “Can you just give me a minute to process everything in my own head?”
David nodded.
“I promise I'll be okay. I just have to have a couple seconds to accept that Curtis lied to me about my diamond.” She unconsciously rubbed her bare finger where the ring had been.
David tightened his grip on her, squeezing her into a tight hug. She squeezed him back. “Why would Curtis propose to me with a fake ring?”
David put his chin on the top of her head. “I'm not sure. I'd imagine it was a good bit cheaper than proposing with a real one.”
Trish was about to brush his comment off as sarcasm when it struck her that there was a strong bit of truth to what he'd said. “You think it was about the money?”
“I don't know.” David somehow managed to shrug without dislodging her from his grasp. “I've never met your ex-husband. Does he have money to burn?”
“Yes. I think so, anwyay.”
“You think so?”
Trish hesitated before answering. “Curtis always acts like he has money. He leases a ridiculously expensive car. He eats out all the time. He gets his suits tailored for work. He paid all the bills the entire time we were married. He's always had plenty of money to throw around.”
“What do you mean by throw around?”
“He always pays for dinner. He likes to buy all his friends a round or two when we go out with a group. He'll buy tickets to concerts and events for us to go to on a pretty regular basis.”
“So he has money.”
“I've always assumed he did.”
“But you don't know for sure?”
“Well, no.” Trish sighed.
“How long have you been with him again?”
“I dated him for four years and was married to him for one,” Trish said softly.
David chewed his lower lip. He had a thoughtful expression on his face. “Y'all haven't ever actually talked finances, have you?”
Trish felt herself starting to flush pink. “Not really. No. No, I guess not,” she stammered. “He's always paid for everything. Anytime I ever tried to ask him about money, he told me that money wasn't something he was interested in discussing as part of a relationship. He told me that there was no reason for us to discuss how much money was in our bank accounts or how many debts he owed. He said that I should just trust him to take care of everything. He'd never let me down when it came to money, so I did what he asked. I trusted him.”
“He basically told you that he didn't trust you enough to discuss money?”
“No. Well, maybe. I don't know. I didn't think that much of it at the time. And I could see his point. I mean, you don't want everyone knowing your personal business and we always had relationship problems. I guess that if you aren't sure the relationship will work out then maybe I can see where-.”
“My shop cleared 109K last year,” David cut her off bluntly. “Roughly fifty thousand of that went right back out in bills. Parts, supplies, electricity and so on.”
“Your shop?” Trish asked, baffled.
David smirked at her. “You've been in town for over a month. We went past it at least four times last night while we were rounding up those alligators.”
“I didn't know-?”
“Breedlove Automotive on the corner of Main and Loretta Ave.”
“Oh.” Trish didn't really know what to say as the light clicked on inside her brain. “I have seen your shop. I just didn't know it was yours. You're a mechanic.”
David winked at her. “Yes, I am. Now, let me get back to what I was saying. I have around fifty grand in business expenses a year. The rest of the money is profit. Its a one-man shop but I do pay Cal to help me out from time to time. Figure he got around 10K in pocket money last year. The remaining 49K was personal profit. At least a third of that comes from running the wrecker. Its my cash cow because there isn't another tow truck for 50 miles in any direction. You with me?”
“Considering that I don't know where you're going with this, I suppose so?” Trish countered.
He laughed. “Out of my personal money, I'd say roughly 15K a year goes to my basic costs of living. That's food, gas, phone, car insurance and the electric bill on the house. I gave another 10K to Cal's Pappy. He paid off the loan on the shop for me when my Dad died on the condition that I finished high school instead of dropping out to run the shop. He argues with me every time I give him money, but I'm making a point by paying him back.” He ran one finger down the side of her mouth and then brushed the remains of her tears away with the rough pad of his calloused thumb. “The rest of my cash either goes into savings or goes into bailing out Addy when he fucks things up.”
“David, why are telling me all this?” Trish asked.
“Because it's total financial transparency.” His dark green eyes were intensely focused on her. “I've known you 24 hours, but I don't have anything to hide.”
Trish opened her mouth and then closed it again. She was unsure of how to respond. “You think Curtis has something to hide,” she said finally.
“He bought you a fake ring and he refused to talk money with you.”
Trish considered what he'd said and then nodded. “Curtis puts a lot of value on image. He leases a brand new Lexus from the dealership because he doesn't want to be seen driving anything else. When we went ring shopping before the actual engagement, I picked out a couple of rings I liked. He said all of them were too small. He really cares about how things look to other people.”
“Maybe he couldn't afford the ring he wanted for you,” David suggested without malice.
“But why lie?” Trish countered.
“Maybe he-.” Bang!
David was interrupted by a grizzled old man smacking his fist down hard on the hood of the Chevy.
“What the hell?” David cursed. He released Trish and leaned out the open window. “Go away. I'm talking.”
“You know that Frank Chasson has the entire Callahan County Sheriff's Department searching for you right now?” The old man asked.
“God, I hope not.” David scowled. “What has Kerry accused me of now?”
The old man laughed. “It ain't what Kerry has accused you of. It's what Kerry himself has done.”
“Oh fuck me. What now?”
“You need to go get your wrecker and take it over to Veteran's Memorial Park,” the old man replied. “Its a real sight down there this morning. I heard it's going to make the front page of this week's newspaper.”
“Goddamn it.” David reached for the ignition of the truck and cranked it. He looked over at Trish, who had settled herself back into the passenger's seat. “If Frank's really got everyone looking for me...”
“Then you have to go?”
He nodded. “You want to tag along?”
“I'd a
sk how much trouble Kerry could get into in a park, but last night we found him on the jungle gym with an alligator.” Trish buckled her seat belt.
“Welcome to my life,” David told her as he kicked the truck into gear. He waved once at the old man and they were gone.
Chapter 24
“Does this mean I'm no longer suspended?” Kerry asked Sheriff Chasson. “You did say I was only suspended until I found my cruiser.”
“Son, you should be fired for this.” Frank Chasson stood in the middle of the rose garden at Veteran's Memorial Park. His boots were planted firmly in a bed of smushed and flattened roses. He was staring at Kerry's cruiser. The police car had been driven through the rose garden and straight into the Veteran's Memorial Fountain. All four tires were completely submerged in the wading pool that surrounded the fountain. The water went halfway up the doors, both inside and out. The water went halfway up the engine.
The mermaid statue that had been in the center of the fountain had broken when the cruiser hit it. The mermaid's head had come off. It was laying underwater several feet from the hood of the cruiser. A geyser of water 12 feet high was still shooting out of her decapitated neck.
Random joggers who used the park for exercise were using their smartphones to snap photos of the scene. One mother who had been headed to the playground covered her daughter's eyes when she caught sight of the headless mermaid. Kerry stared woefully at his no longer missing vehicle.
“You can't fire me because a thief wrecked my cruiser. I filed an incident report last night. My cruiser was stolen while I was on duty protecting the citizens of Callahan County.” Kerry knew it was stupid to remind the Sheriff about employment policy issues right now, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't deserve to be in trouble just because some punk kid had decided to take his cruiser for a joyride while he had been working hard to enforce the law.