by Becki Willis
“So naturally, he comes back to his old stomping grounds and visits a crowded mall that has security cameras everywhere.” Happy’s whispery voice dripped with sarcasm. “You’re right, Madison. Definitely a jail break.”
Madison ignored her mother’s mockery. “Why on Earth did you give that man my phone number!” she complained.
They continued to bicker as they paid for their purchases and made their way back into the main corridor of the mall. Madison insisted the man was a felon, while her mother preached forgiveness and love for mankind.
All too soon, Madison remembered that things had always been this way between her and her mother. Both of her parents were entirely too gullible and too laid-back for their own good. No wonder they hadn’t wanted to raise a child. Parenthood meant taking responsibility for someone else’s safety and well-being, something her parents barely managed for themselves.
“Oh, look,” Happy pointed, as they merged with the steady stream of shoppers. “There’s Tom, over at that jewelry store. Maybe he’s robbing it. Should we call the mall cops?” She batted her eyes for innocent appeal.
The name of the store caught Madison’s eye. Premium Jewels. “No, but maybe we should check out the store. I’ve heard a lot about it recently.”
“What about our dinner reservations?”
“We don’t have any, Mother. I just said that to get you away from that man.”
Happy’s sudden stop caused a ripple effect on the steady swarm of people behind them. Someone bumped into her as she stared at the daughter and sputtered, “And now you want to follow him into that store! You are not making any sense at all, Madison Josephine.”
“You only call me by my full name when you’re mad at me.”
“You only call me Mother when you’re mad at me.”
Side by side, Madison Josephine and Mother walked stiffly into the jewelry store.
Tom Haskell was slouched in front of a bracelet display, his large body practically sprawled across the sparkling glass top. He looked away from the pretty sales clerk and smirked when he saw Madison. “Fancy meeting you ladies here,” he drawled.
“I’ve heard so much about this store, I just had to pop in,” Madison said, her smile a bit too bright. She spotted the display of men’s watches and headed straight to them, even though it meant essentially brushing against Tom Haskell’s ink-embellished skin to get there.
“I thought you had dinner reservations,” he taunted.
Madison indicated the watch on her wrist. “This silly thing is so old, it doesn’t work half the time. All the more reason to shop for a new one.”
Torn between which customer to wait on, it didn’t take long for the woman to decide Madison was the better bet, particularly when her commission was the ante. She murmured something to the bald man and approached Madison with a smile. “May I show you a watch, perhaps? The ladies watches are just to your left.”
“I like these,” Madison said decidedly, tapping on the glass. “So will my boyfriend.”
“Why, yes, of course.” Unlocking the case, she rattled off a long list of attributes for the watches. Presenting a tray for Madison’s inspection, she finished with a bright smile. “You simply can’t go wrong with any of these. They have been tremendously popular!”
“Yes, I know. Several of my friends purchased these for their husbands.”
“Oh, how wonderful. Say, don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Madison shook her head, allowing her hair to fall over her face just a bit. “I’ve never been in the store before.”
“Hmm. You just look so familiar…”
Madison quickly turned the topic away from herself. “My boyfriend really liked the watch a friend of ours bought, but I’m not sure which one it is… Do you keep records of your customers, by chance?”
“Well, of course, but those are highly confidential.”
Madison pretended to be indecisive. “I think it was that one.” She pointed at a gold-plated watch with a shiny face. “No, wait, the bronze one. … Or was it that one? Oh, shoot, I don’t remember! And I would hate to spend this kind of money on the wrong one.”
“We have a very generous return policy,” the saleswoman offered. “Keep the original receipt and the original packaging, and you can return or exchange your purchase within twenty-one days.”
Madison tried to look forlorn. “I just don’t want him disappointed on Christmas morning…”
“I think I can say with confidence, ma’am, that no man would be disappointed with any of these fine choices. Did I mention they all are crafted with precision Swiss mechanisms?”
“I don’t know…” Madison mimicked the whine she often heard in her daughter’s voice. “There was one in particular he wanted, and I just don’t remember…”
With a snort of derision, Tom Haskell ambled off to a display on the far side of the store. He was no more likely to buy a gemstone necklace than he was a pricey bracelet, but it didn’t stop an eager young salesman from trying to sell him one.
Satisfied that no one could overhear, Madison leaned in and asked, “Isn’t there any way you could peek at the records and tell me which watch my friend bought?”
“I’m afraid that’s against store policy. Customer files are confidential.” Her words said no, but her demeanor said otherwise.
“I understand,” Madison said, reaching for the strap of her purse. It looked quite natural when she dropped the whole shebang onto the floor, particularly when she laughed at her own clumsiness. She bent to retrieve it, using exaggerated arm movements. She came back up with a sheepish smile. “I’m such a klutz!” Still smiling, she spoke through her teeth in a low tone no one could overhear. “I dropped a twenty, and I think it slid under your counter. You might want to check after I leave.”
The saleswoman didn’t miss a beat. “Why, certainly,” she beamed. “I would be happy to check on that delivery date for you, ma’am. What did you say the name was?”
Madison wasn’t about to tip her hand. She merely wanted to know if anyone on staff could be bribed, and now she had her answer. She popped out the first name that came to mind. “Joan Smith,” she said. “From Riverton.”
It came as no surprise when the saleswoman returned several minutes later, wearing a frown. There was nothing under that name in their records. Could it possibly be under Damien Smith?
“No, it would be Joan. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she didn’t buy it here.” When her phone binged with a message from Bethani, it gave her the perfect out. “Oops, gotta go. I’ll check with Joan before I come back in. Thanks, anyway.”
Not one to be bothered with the trappings of expensive jewelry, her mother had wandered out to explore the art kiosk in the middle of the mall. Hurrying toward her, from the corner of her eye, Madison saw Tom Haskell slink his way back toward the pretty saleswoman. The clerk had come out from behind the display case and was straightening a stack of pamphlets on a nearby counter. No doubt, she would soon swoop down and retrieve the promised twenty.
Madison grinned as she imagined the woman’s irritation when she picked it up. Her parents had given her an entire stack of them. At first glance, it looked like a true twenty-dollar bill, but the back was covered with Bible verses, and instead of Andrew Jackson’s portrait, it boasted the image of Jesus Christ.
Oops.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Brash, I think I know what’s going on!” Madison called him from the restaurant parking lot, eager to share her discovery with the lawman. “I just came from Premium Jewels, and I think I have it figured out.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Madison had no idea that he misconstrued her statement to mean she knew about the engagement ring. He finally managed a strangled, “Ahhh…”
“You were right, it’s an inside job,” she continued excitedly. “I think the salesclerk is calling an accomplice every time a sizable purchase is made by someone from our area. They must know there’s a portion of the highway
between here and home that’s isolated and rather desolate. If they can’t stop the shoppers along the highway when they leave town, they go to their houses. They have the addresses in their files. It’s the only explanation I can think of.”
“I wondered the same thing, but how does that explain them stopping you? You didn’t shop at the jewelry store. And neither did Ted Berlin, the other motorist.” He conveniently omitted his own roadside robbery, even though he fit the jewelry-store profile.
Madison was quiet for a moment as she considered other theories. “Okay, how about this? Stopping motorists on the roadside has nothing to do with the jewelry store. Those could be random crimes of opportunities. At this time of year, it’s a safe bet that people have been out Christmas shopping and have presents in their car.”
“Yes, I’ve considered that theory,” Brash agreed.
“But the jewelry store angle still makes sense. The salesclerk alerts her partner when a big piece of jewelry goes out the door. He goes to the address she gives him and breaks in. A pretty sweet set-up, if you ask me.”
“A possible theory, but we need proof. We need to know who her partner is.”
“I think I have a lead on that. We ran into an old friend of my parents today. He looks like a rough character. I saw him at the jewelry store, talking rather cozily to the saleswoman involved in the burglaries.”
“How do you know which saleswoman it is?”
“Because I bribed her to give me information.”
“You did what?!” Brash exploded.
“Calm down, calm down. I didn’t exactly bribe her. At least not with real money.” She hurriedly explained what happened. “But if the woman was willing to break company policy and share private information with me for a measly twenty-dollar bill, imagine what she would tell someone like Tom Haskell for a much bigger profit!”
“Wait a minute. Did you just say Tom Haskell?”
“Yes. You know him?”
“Every lawman in the state of Texas knows Tom Haskell. Or of him. The man is a notorious criminal. The question is, how do you know him?”
“He’s the old friend my mother ran into.”
“Why are your parents friends with the likes of that man?” he practically spat. “He was just released from prison. He was serving a fifteen-year sentence for organized criminal activity, but got out early for good behavior.”
“They know him from back in the day. I told you, Brash, my father has a very colorful past.”
“Criminal, or colorful? Are you sure you haven’t gotten the two confused?”
“Colorful,” Madison insisted. “But that’s not to say he didn’t know his share of unsavory characters. Apparently, this Tom Haskell was one of them.”
“You stay away from Haskell, Maddy. I don’t want you anywhere near that man.”
“And I don’t want to be near him, but I may not have a choice. Happy invited him for dinner.”
Brash exploded again. Once he quietened down, she ventured to add, “It gets worse. She gave him my cell number. I know, I know. We had a big fight about it. Believe me, I am no happier about it than you are. I didn’t like the way he leered at me.” She shivered just thinking about it.
“Leered?”
Even though he could not see the gesture, she nodded her head. “Like he knew a secret about me, like what color of underwear I was wearing or something.”
“He made a pass at you? I swear, I will haul his butt into jail and charge him with harassment!” Brash roared.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t sexual. It was creepier than that. Underwear was a bad example. It was more like he knew the password to my bank account, and planned to use it.” She made a smirking noise and added, “For all the good that would do him.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“He knew I wasn’t happy with my mother for inviting him over. Hopefully, nothing will come of it and he’ll lose my number.”
“And Allen Wynn really is Santa Claus.”
“Many more of Genny’s cookies, and he’ll give the old elf a real run for the money,” Madison predicted. “I’m sorry, but I need to go. Happy and the kids are already inside and someone has to keep Blake from ordering everything on the menu. I just wanted to share with you what I learned today. At least one of the salespeople at Premium Jewels can be bribed, so that could be the link we’re looking for.”
“Did you catch her name?”
“Danielle.”
“Ah, the plot thickens. Danielle just happens to be from Naomi.”
“Really? You’ve already checked her out?”
Before he implicated himself as another of the victims, Brash evaded a direct answer. “I paid a visit to the store manager. There were a few too many coincidences for my comfort. Good work, babe, sorting out the bad apple.”
“Why thank you, kind sir. So, what are we going to do next?”
“You’re going to go inside the restaurant and order something to eat. Then you’re going to text me when you leave town. If you’re not home exactly fifty-five minutes after that, I’m coming to look for you.”
“I meant about the case.”
“So did I. You’re going to eat dinner and let me worry about this. End of discussion.”
She crinkled her nose and shook her head, neither of which Brash could see. Appearing to give in, she said, “If you think so.”
“I know so, Maddy. Say it with me. Brash will take it from here. Come on. Brash will—”
“—take it from here.” She rolled her eyes. They both knew it was an empty statement, but if he felt better hearing it aloud, she would indulge him. “Gotta go. Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart. Watch your rear-view mirror, call me if you think anyone is tailing you, and let me know the minute you get home.”
“Will do, Cap’n. Love you, too.” She hung up and finished with the sentiment she had suppressed earlier. “And when I get done with dinner, I’ll take it up again, too.”
***
Brash rubbed his eyes, which were now strained and bloodshot. Watching hours of grainy footage from the jewelry store video had also given him a headache, to go along with the eyestrain.
He was tempted to let Maddy go through the video. Not only would it relieve him of the duty, but she had a sharp eye for detail. Sharp enough, he knew, to quickly pick him out from the crowd and note the shiny diamond ring he had purchased. It would ruin the surprise he had planned for Christmas morning. Plus, she would want to see the ring. And that, in itself, posed a completely different set of problems.
Even if he managed to get the ring back, it probably wouldn’t be in the next six days. He didn’t want to go down on bended knee without a ring to back up the proposal. Maddy was a practical and understanding woman, but that was asking too much. And it hardly meshed with the fairytale that kept rolling around in his head.
He needed another ring.
In the meantime, he watched more video. He saw Marilyn Bashinski come into the store and make her way to the watch display. A young male clerk patiently pulled out each watch for her perusal and eventually closed the sale. Brash scanned the shot for anyone unusual roaming around in the background, but saw nothing amiss.
Now that he knew to look for him, Brash detected Tom Haskell on the video feed. The known felon came into the store on three different occasions and each time, he went directly to Danielle’s station. The two would have a brief conversation and then the big man would leave.
There seemed nothing unusual about the exchanges, but Brash rewound each occurrence a dozen times, freezing frames and taking notes. He recorded the time and duration of each visit. Tried to zoom in enough to read lips. Noticed the people in the background and the counters where they stood. Watched Danielle’s behavior after her visitor left. It was wishful thinking on his part, hoping for a telltale pattern in her actions. Nothing jumped out at him.
He even made note of Danielle’s actions after making a sale. He never saw her make cove
rt phone calls or send text messages. He never saw her search through store records or jot down notes.
Throughout the hours of video, he had noted several young couples come into the store and shyly look at engagement rings. He spotted the blond woman Danielle spoke of, the one who kept her eye on a particular ring. He even saw the man who purchased the ring, and hoped it was her boyfriend, or else she would be devastated. He saw her hopeful face the day she came in and discovered the ring was gone.
It took two days, but after hours of watching the videos, Brash came to a conclusion. If Danielle Applegate—or any of the other employees, for that matter—was guilty of exploiting customer purchases, she was doing so off camera. He could see nothing amiss.
His own face was one of the last images caught on tape. Why, he wondered, did he look so nervous? He loved Madison more than he ever thought possible. He harbored no doubts about wanting to share his life with her. So why did he look as skittish and frightened as some of those college kids on the security tapes?
Ignoring his pale image on film, Brash perused the background for someone paying him undue attention. Other than an occasional person who pointed to him in recognition, either from the television show or his own football career, no one seemed particularly impressed as he made the most important purchase of his life. Again, nothing appeared to be amiss.
When the screen finally went blank, Brash heaved out a relieved sigh. He rubbed his eyes again and stretched his broad shoulders. He knew he would need to watch the footage at least once again, to pick up on anything he had missed the first time.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he had a much greater task in mind. He knew this was the reason he looked so nervous on the video. The reason his hands still perspired when he thought about it.
Tonight, he planned to ask permission to marry Maddy.
He dressed in newly starched jeans and a blue chambray western shirt that played well against the chocolate of his eyes. His hair was newly trimmed, his face shaved clean. After sliding on ostrich-skin boots and belt, he added a splash of his favorite cologne and studied himself in the mirror. He wasn’t a vain man, but he supposed he was decent-enough looking to catch a woman’s eyes. His stomach was still flat and his chest still broad and muscled. In his line of work, he had to stay in shape. Other than a rogue knee that popped its protest now and then, he was still in excellent physical condition.