I remembered Nancy…

I knew her when I was still under the status of the granddaughter of a billionaire, and I lived in an opulent mansion with my mother, Sophie. A notch of resentment lodged in my throat as I recalled how Nancy conspicuously stole from our home, even using unjustified excuses to embezzle our cash.

Once, I’d even discovered her red-handed, and I was furious. I was there in the dining room and caught her clutching several c-notes in her fist. She knew she was in trouble and swiftly turned around to face me.

“Olivia, I didn’t see you there,” she gasped, holding her chest. “Your mother told me to get this money for her.”

My belly sparked with insolence as I glared daggers at her.

“Liar! I’m going to tell my grandfather and mother about you,” I had said. Nancy dropped to her knees, wringing her hands in desperation, begging me not to follow through with my threat. Twisting her face in pain, she began to shake when I didn’t answer.

“Please. I’ll do anything!”

I had been so emotionally charged that I hadn’t noticed my mother had joined us.

“Nancy, come into my office,” my mother said, noticing the spectacle before her. I glanced at my mother, whose beautiful face was calm and graceful. Nancy dragged herself off the floor and shakily followed my mother. Mom closed the door with one last glance at me.

Though the piercing sting of betrayal was permanently etched in my heart, I wasn’t surprised when my mother opened the door, and Nancy left, her tear-stained face swollen and pitiful. When I caught my mother’s eyes, she didn’t explain, and I knew better than to question her.

Nancy was gone for the rest of the day but resumed her normal schedule the next morning.

I had no idea what Nancy said to justify not only keeping her as an employee but also out of jail. My mother definitely knew about the theft but turned a blind eye. Mom was soft-hearted and forgiving, even to someone who outright betrayed her. It was like her to give people chances.

The sound of footsteps broke me out of my memory, and I dashed out of the room. Nancy was still our maid despite my mother’s hospitalization. I’d contact her and see what she had to say. I had an idea.

Leaving the hospital, I promptly went to the villa once more.

Waiting at the back door, it was several hours before Nancy exited. Judging by the mask and hat she wore, I concluded she wanted to hide her identity. It didn’t take much to lose sight of her. The sun had gone down, and it was frigid and dark.

I was barely able to see as she wandered into the night. Following the sound of her car door slamming shut, I found her as the engine roared. Worry cascaded down my neck and shoulders, but I had to see where she was going. Her behavior was suspicious.

After covertly sneaking, I waited in the thick leaves of a nearby bush as Nancy went to a pawn shop and entered through the front door. A ringing sound binged, indicating a customer had come inside. Craning my neck to see better, I became frustrated when I lost her. The windows were purposely opaque, and the front door was too far away to spy through.

Huffing, I shook my head and then rubbed my hands together. It had been cold earlier in the day, and the night only worsened it. I ran my teeth over my bottom lip as I hopped back and forth, trying to stay warm. My body grew stiff with racking shivers.

I couldn’t give up, though, and stuck it out.

Finally, she left through the front door and rushed to her car. After she drove off, I hurried to the pawnshop. The white lettering had come off in places as I read the generic “Pawnshop” label. It was in disarray, just as I expected.

The being went off loudly in my ears as I entered. The instant warmth was pleasurable. The place smelled of old cigars and burning electronics. He probably had a pile of junk hoarded in the back.

The clerk had just begun to place something into the locked glass case for display. The items weren’t anything I recognized, however. Either way, Nancy probably stole from my family, indirectly stealing from me. My chest burned as I waited for him to face me.

The clerk, a balding man with a pot belly stretched against his worn Oxford shirt, glanced in my direction. He smiled slyly as he sidled closer, directly across from me now, behind the greasy fingerprinted glass. The overhead lights reflected against his shiny head as he placed his fat ring-clad fingers on the display case.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice hoarse and gravelly. I could see the figurative drool on his face as he grinned eagerly. His wrinkled face was worn from the years. I curled my lip, realizing I could see his skin between the chintzy buttons as they struggled to remain snapped.

Flicking my eyes back to his face, I laid it out.

“Whatever that woman just sold you was stolen from my home. You’d better help me out, or I’ll call the police and report you for fencing hot goods.”

The clerk dropped his mouth open, and his sagging eyelids suddenly lifted over his gray irises. This wasn’t the encounter he expected.

“I gave her money, but this is a pawn shop. I don’t ask where things come from. Can you imagine if I questioned every customer who came here? I’d be out of business within an hour. Not to mention the threats I’d receive.” He exhaled, shaking his head, running his fat fingers over his chest.

“Well, this threat from me is real. I’m a Lanchester, and I have to pull,” I said. Tossing my Sorrento ponytail, I narrowed my eyes in a threatening manner. “You’d better work with me, or I’ll make your life far worse than the police or your customers.”

“Alright!” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I’ll show you what she brought in.” He turned his back to me, approaching a safe set in the wall a few inches to the left. Swiveling a combination lock, he attempted to open it. He screwed up at first and had to restart.

I could hear him whispering to himself, though I couldn’t make it all out. Was he saying the combination? If so, it didn’t help. He messed it up a second time.

“I’m not playing around. If you’re trying to keep the items for yourself, you’ll be sorry.”

“Wait a minute, for God’s sake! You’ve got me all nervous,” he said through stuttering breaths.

After the third attempt, the click of the final number released the safe door. Sighing in relief, he pulled the weighty door open. Reaching in, he retrieved the item.

Displaying it with two hands, I studied it carefully. Even the yellow lights couldn’t detract from the beautiful silver or the ruby at the center. As he shook, the ruby glittered, the crimson red flicking as if it recognized me.

An instant memory struck me, seeing my mother clasping it around her neck. Nancy had taken the necklace from our home, but how did she gain access to it? Gritting my teeth, I could conclude what was most likely.

My mother had gone to the hospital, and her treasured necklace had been confiscated by my father, only to be given to Amanda. She probably wore it with pride, disregarding how she’d come into possession of it. Picturing it on her neck, I seethed, clenching my jaw.

I wondered if she was wearing it today when I stopped by. If so, I was glad I’d missed it. That would have sent me over the edge.

“Give me your phone,” I demanded the clerk as I threw my palm out. He knit his brow, shaking his head.

“I’m not letting you use my cell,” he retorted, plucking up the phone that had been resting on the glass. Clutching it closely to his heart like it was the most important thing in the world, I tapped my foot impatiently. He threw caution to the wind and kept hold of it.

I’d had enough. Snagging it from his greasy hands, I gave him a warning, narrowing my eyes and twisting my mouth. He laid down his fight; he drew his lips down and averted his gaze.

Nancy had the same number for years. I’d memorized it. My hands were trembling as I tapped her ten digits, then hit the phone icon. As the ringing filled my ear, I awaited, running my teeth over my lower lip.

“Hello,” Nancy answered, her voice smoothly coming through the line. She sounded pleased with a smile, even. I didn’t bother with a greeting. She wasn’t going to profit from her theft.

“This is Olivia,” I said in a cold tone.

“Olivia, you’re out of prison. How–”

“Meet me at the pizza place in town,” I said, cutting her off. “We need to have a talk. You know why.”

I heard her words echoing, but I didn’t care. Thumbing the phone to cut the line, I pursed my lips in apprehension. I didn’t want to hear whatever drivel she chose to butter me up with.

The clerk looked at me, furrowing his brow in a wince. Thrusting his phone back, I glared at him. It was time to learn the truth, but not before he provided something to me.

“Before I leave, give me that,” I said, pointing to an item. He wearily nodded, unlocked the case, and handed it over. After that, I left.

Cha Chi’s pizzeria was close by, and it didn’t take long for Nancy to show up. I spied as I watched her go in first. She clutched her burgundy purse close to her hip, her eyes darting back and forth.

Choosing a booth in the front, she plunked her elbows on the table and rested her head on her linked fingers. Closing her eyes, I saw her mouthing something. Was she praying?

After letting her sweat for another few seconds, I left my hiding spot and pulled the door open. Instantly, I was hit with the tempting smell of oregano, marinara, baking crust, and parmesan cheese. The intense combination made my mouth water, and it felt salaciously tempting to indulge.

But that wasn’t why I was here.

Nancy lifted her head, furrowing her honey brows. When she saw me she flinched then sat back, resting her left hand beside her on the booth chair. Right away, she was masking her worry which only made me more convinced of her guilt. A smile played at the corners of her mouth.

“Olivia, it’s so nice to see you, again,” she said. Her voice was sing-song and fake.

“Cut the crap, Nancy. I know what you did and why you did it,” I said, sliding across from her.

Nancy’s face went ghostly white as her features fell. Pinning my eyes on her amber irises, I remained straight faced. She was already intimidated and I hadn’t even said what she’d done. Guilty conscious or what?

“What do you want from me, Olivia?” Her words trembled from her tight throat. Maybe she was more afraid of me since I was an ex-convict now. Prison wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure. She didn’t want to go there.

“I have a favor I need done and this isn’t a request,” I said, “If you work with me, I’ll provide you with what you need. If you refuse, I’ll tell Amanda what you did. I think we both know she isn’t as soft-hearted as my mother.”

Nancy gulped then rested her forehead on two fingers, breathing harder. My eyes flicked from her to the staff, hoping nobody overheard us. Between the cooks shouting, clacking ovens and the servers racing around to please customers, I felt safe.

Flicking my eyes to Nancy, she lowered her hand and met my gaze. My heart was pounding in anticipation. If she didn’t agree, there would be trouble.

Finally she said, “Okay, I’ll do it. What do you need?”

Reaching into my pocket, I handed her the item I’d been given at the pawn shop. It was a stealth cam. Nancy widened her amber eyes in surprise.

“Put this in my father’s study.”