I didn't recognize came up on the screen instead.
"Hello?" I asked tentatively.
"Is this Emmy Oak?"
"Yes," I hedged, expecting him to try to sell me car insurance or Canadian pharmaceuticals next.
"This is Joe Trask."
"Trask?" I said. Ava perked up in her seat, leaning closer as I put the phone on speaker.
"Yeah, listen, I made some calls to some associates on you two's behalf."
"And?" I prompted. "Has someone seen the emerald?"
"No."
I felt my heart sink. "Oh."
"But," he went on, "I did talk to a friend of mine who owns a shop in Oakland. Al."
"Did someone try to sell Al the emerald?"
"No. I told you, no emerald."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, so what did this Al say?"
"Well, I told Al about you and your friend and the emerald. I also happened to mention you was asking about heart-shaped rubies. And Al said someone did come into the shop trying to sell a pair like that recently."
My eyes cut to Ava's. "When was this?"
"A few weeks ago. Now, I dunno if they are the same ones you was looking for, but I figured you might wanna talk to Al."
He figured right. "How can I get ahold of your friend?" I asked. I tried to contain my enthusiasm, but I'm certain I didn't succeed. There was a reason I didn't play poker.
"Al runs the Cash Exchange in Oakland. I'll text you the address."
"Thanks," I told him.
"Uh, but you know, if anything comes of this, don't forget I'm entitled to that finder's fee. Eleven percent."
David raised a silent eyebrow at Ava, but she just shrugged.
"Sure. Yep. Eleven percent," I told him, mentally crossing my fingers behind my back. As much as I hoped this lead panned out, I also hoped it didn't come to ponying up a finder's fee. Because without that emerald, Ava might be forced to make a hard decision between seventy-five hundred dollars and her kneecaps.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
An hour later, David, Ava, and I were in Ava's GTO, pulling up to a strip mall in East Oakland near Piedmont.
While Joe Trask's Fast Money looked like the type of place you didn't want to linger at after dark, the Cash Exchange was a bright, modern storefront sandwiched between a GAP and a dog groomer in a strip mall anchored by a kids' play gym. No bars on the windows, no neon signs, no tattooed thugs at the door. In the front window there was a poster of a happy family on a beach with an advertisement below saying Finance your next family vacation. Clearly they catered to a different type of clientele than Trask.
"Is this what they call an upscale pawnshop?" I asked as we parked and got out of the car.
"Why did you look at me when you asked that?" David asked. "I've never pawned anything in my life."
"No, people just have to pawn their valuables when they lose to you," Ava pointed out.
David shrugged. But he couldn't very well deny it, since that had been the very way we'd originally met Trask. "Hey, if you can't pay, don't play."
"You should have that printed on a T-shirt," I mumbled as we navigated around a couple of minivans parked near the entrance to the Cash Exchange.
"I just might," he told me with a wink.
A bell jingled as we pushed inside the shop, and soft jazz music greeted us along with cool air conditioning. In contrast to Trask's place, the interior of the store was light, open, and airy, the wares for sale arranged in artful collections in well-lit glass cases or modern shelving units along the walls. A couple of old merry-go-round horses near the far wall and several antique toys gave the place a cheery, family friendly vibe.
"Welcome to the Cash Exchange," a woman behind the glass case greeted us. Her hair was curly and graying, her smile pleasant, and her frame ample, giving off a grandmotherly vibe. She wore a navy, nautical striped dress that hugged against her middle and a small gold cross around her neck. "May I help you?"
"Hi," Ava said, stepping forward. "Uh, we're here to see someone named Al."
"Well, you're in the right place. I'm Al," the woman told us.
She must have seen my shocked expression, as she laughed. "Short for Alecia, but all of my friends call me Al. Was there something I could help you all with?"
"Uh, yes. Joe Trask sent us," I said, having a hard time picturing Granny being "friends" with the likes of Trask.
"He said you might be able to help us locate an