On My Way - Eve Langlais Page 0,76

a price on it?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” I pulled out a tag and wrote quickly on it. A sum with many zeroes. I stalked to the window and tucked it by the ring.

I returned to the counter, snapping, “Satisfied?”

“Yes. I’ll take it.”

I blinked. “You haven’t seen the price yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll buy it.”

“It’s a thousand dollars,” I blurted out.

“Is cash okay?” He pulled out a literal wad from his coat pocket. I’d never seen so many hundred-dollar bills at once.

“No, it is not okay. You can’t just buy it. With that.” I pointed at the brown sheaf. In Canada, our money had lovely colors. Purple for tens. Red for fifties. Guess what for hundreds.

“Why not?”

“It’s probably counterfeit.” No one actually walked around with that kind of money. “And I misquoted. It’s ten thousand dollars.”

“Ah, a bit more than I have in my pockets at the moment. I’ll have the sum wired to you.”

“Why do you want that ugly ring so much?” Did he know its secret? Was it truly valuable?

“Because you don’t want me to have it.”

“In that case, I also don’t want you to have that bowl over there.” I pointed to my lopsided masterpiece.

“How much for it?”

I should have quoted him some farfetched number. Instead, I said, “Sorry, it’s already sold. And would you look at the time. Time to close up shop.” I skirted the counter.

“It’s only four in the afternoon.”

“Yes, but it’s Wednesday. Hump day.” I winced, as it was the only thing to come to mind and spill out of my mouth. “Lots to do.” Which made it sound even worse.

“But we’re not done with our business.”

“Sorry. Come again.” I shoved at him, and he went without protesting. The amusement tugging his mouth didn’t impress me.

Only when I’d shut the door behind him and locked it did I lean and heave out a breath. What was that about? Why his interest in the ring?

I pulled it from the window and turned it over in my hands. I’d cleaned it up but saw nothing special about it. It felt cold and lifeless in my hand.

On a whim, I slid it onto my finger. Nothing happened.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Now what?

I glanced through the blind to see an older couple.

“Are you open?” the man shouted.

Heck yes, I was. I reopened the shop with a smile. Ended up closing at almost nine due to people popping in. I drove home without incident. Slept fine if I ignored the part where Maddy visited my dream and crushed me.

The next morning, I woke up to a dozen orders for my online shop. And even more clients came in that day.

By midafternoon I’d called Darryl and asked him to bring another load of treasures. It was going to be a very good Christmas. Or so I thought.

The policeman showed up around dinnertime.

24

I didn’t get home until late, and the moment I walked in the door Winnie was waiting for me. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried…” Her voice trailed off as she noticed my face. “What’s wrong?”

I wanted to lie. So bad. No matter what Winnie might think, the news would crush her, but I couldn’t hide it. I swallowed hard and said, “They found Martin. Your father. He’s dead.”

Her face blanched, and she swayed on her feet. I ran for her and supported her so she could sit on the couch. Then I dashed for a glass of water, my hand trembling only slightly as I filled it from the jug in the fridge. I returned and handed it to her.

Winnie chugged it and then clasped the glass before saying in a low voice, “Tell me everything.”

It began with Officer Murphy arriving in the shop.

He’d entered, looking grim as usual, every inch the cop in his uniform, military-buzzed hair, and clean-shaven jaw. “Ms. Rousseaux. I need you to come with me.”

My first thought? I was going to jail. Guilty of manslaughter. They must have figured it out. I didn’t even argue.

“Of course. If you’ll give me a second to lock up.” I gathered my things, not many given I’d lost my purse. Thankfully, I had spare keys, but it would take time to replace the cards I’d reported.

To my surprise, Murphy didn’t cuff me or read me my rights. Perhaps that would come later.

In retrospect, perhaps I should have questioned him more, but not me. I sat in the back seat, staring out the window, unable to regret what I’d done. I wouldn’t regret anything that kept my daughter safe.

Confusion filled me when, instead