she passed away a few years ago. Her grandmother had married well the second time, and the extravagant ring had been a gift from her husband. After his passing, his children from a previous marriage were left most of his large estate, but Emily’s grandmother was able to keep their home and her jewelry.
Emily had been thrilled to receive the ring before her grandmother passed on, but because the ring was old, the setting needed to be cleaned and the prongs tightened. So, she’d kept it safely hidden away until she could have it polished and perhaps re-set in a more modern setting. While her husband was alive it was never a priority, but things change.
Evan used to kid her about keeping the ring in a plastic artichoke in the vegetable drawer of their refrigerator. She’d tried to explain to him what she saw as the brilliance of it. The fake vegetable blended in naturally with the other items in the drawer, she would tell him. Plus, if there was ever a fire, the contents of the refrigerator would not burn. He understood, but he still thought it was hilarious.
Now that her husband was gone and her real estate business was suffering from the housing crisis, she thought about selling the diamond to a jeweler. As much as she hated to think of parting with her grandmother’s ring, she did need the money. She should at least have it appraised to see how much it was worth.
Emily went to the refrigerator to retrieve it. She pulled out the vegetable drawer and there laid her faux artichoke, nestled among the fresh tomatoes and asparagus. She unscrewed the stem and turned it over, prepared to catch the ring as it slid out.
“Where’s my ring?” she cried in shock. She jiggled the artichoke, but it made no sound. She vigorously shook it upside down into her hand, but still no ring.
Who could have taken it? No one knew it was in there. When could it have gone missing?
She tried to remember the last time she saw it and realized she hadn’t checked on it since before Evan died. Evan—he was the only other person who knew it was there—but no, he would never have taken it and not told me...or would he? No one else knew it was there!
Her thoughts jumped to the stack of cash the police had found in his desk the night he died. Had he pawned her ring and that was what he got for it?
Heat rose up in her cheeks and she broke out in a cold sweat as she slumped down onto a chair at the kitchen table. With the ring gone, how she was going to pay the past due office lease and the mounting expenses in the months to come? Her heart ached at the thought that her husband may have stolen from her. She didn’t want to believe it, but it certainly appeared that way.
~*~
Emily strolled into the Moxie Java coffee shop right on time at eight o’clock. A handful of customers were scattered around the tables, but she was looking for a woman sitting alone. As she stood at the counter ordering her tea, she spotted an attractive middle-aged woman sitting in the corner at a table for two. She was impeccably dressed with beautiful dark wavy hair down to her shoulders.
Emily paid for her drink and then headed toward her. “Delia?”
“Yes. You must be Emily. Please, sit down.” Delia motioned toward the empty chair across from her.
Emily sat down and laid her large handbag on the floor beside her. Her stomach twisted and she fidgeted with her cup.
“I recognize you from the lovely photo on Evan’s desk.” Delia took a sip of her latté.
“I appreciate your willingness to talk to me and answer my questions.”
“I’m happy to do it, Emily. I just want to say how sorry I am for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Emily bobbed the teabag up and down before using the spoon to squeeze the water out, placing it on the napkin beside her.
“Don’t you hate that phrase—sorry for your loss? It just seems so blasé. What I’d really like to say is that I am sorry that such a fine man died so early and for the pain you had to go through.”
“I appreciate—” Emily started to say.
Delia held up her hand. “No, please, let me finish. And I’m sorry for how he died and that no one has been able to figure out who did it so the