Chapter 2 — The Silver Case Was Not Jewelry
The two strangers immediately raised their hands.
The taller one pulled out a phone.
Not a weapon.
“Mr. Harrison, please.”
Harrison recognized the voice.
“Evan?”
The man lowered his hood.
He was in his early thirties.
Dark hair.
Wet from the rain.
The second person removed her hood too.
A young woman.
Harrison stared.
“Lena?”
Maya looked between them.
“You know them?”
Harrison nodded slowly.
Evan and Lena Finch.
Brother and sister.
The silver case belonged to their late mother, Carol Finch.
Ryan frowned.
“Then why is their property in our bakery inventory?”
Harrison looked toward him.
“Because their mother left it here.”
Carol had worked at Harrison’s Bakery for twenty-two years.
Not as a baker.
As the front counter manager.
She knew every regular customer.
Every birthday.
Every anniversary.
Every child who pressed a nose against the glass pastry case.
Carol died unexpectedly eight months earlier.
Several weeks after her funeral, Harrison found the silver case inside her employee locker.
There was a note attached:
DO NOT GIVE THIS TO EVAN OR LENA UNTIL BOTH OF THEM COME TOGETHER.
Maya frowned.
“What’s inside?”
Harrison shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
The case was locked.
Carol had taken the key.
Or hidden it.
No one knew.
Because Harrison was responsible for keeping the case safe, he attached a small tracker inside the handle sleeve.
“Why was it sitting on the counter?” Ryan asked.
Harrison looked annoyed.
“Because you were supposed to move it from the office to the safe.”
Ryan stopped.
“I…”
Then he remembered.
Harrison had asked him to relocate several stored personal items before maintenance arrived.
Ryan placed the silver case on the front counter temporarily.
Then got distracted by a delivery.
It remained there.
Maya folded her arms.
“So the object you accused me of stealing was left unattended by you.”
Ryan looked embarrassed.
“Yes.”
Then the tracker beeped again.
The case was now nine feet away.
Everyone looked toward Evan and Lena.
Lena opened her handbag.
Nothing.
Evan shook his head.
“We don’t have it.”
Harrison pointed toward the bakery entrance.
“Then somebody standing near you does.”