The Magician's Secret (Nancy Drew Diaries #8)(15)

George went on from there. “She says the exposure from his shows has helped her gain international recognition. Her business isn’t solid yet, but things are better.”

“Still, she’d like to have more capital. She’s hoping to raise a million dollars. She’s looking for an investor,” Bess said.

“Or a thief,” George put in.

“I’m not a thief!” Smallwood roared, leaping up from the table. His small nose twitched, and he was quickly blinking his beady eyes.

I screamed when I saw that he was brandishing a knife.





CHAPTER TEN





The Missing Gems


TURNED OUT JOHN SMALLWOOD WAS heading to the counter to cut himself a second serving of lasagna. Everyone laughed at my stunned reaction—even me—but deep inside, I wondered if he might really be the thief. The one who denies the crime most adamantly is often the one who committed it. I wasn’t ready to cross Smallwood off the suspect list, nor to defend him like my dad and Ned were. I needed more clues and more evidence.

My adrenaline was pumping as I hustled Bess and George out of the house. We had a stop to make.

I pulled into the parking lot of the jewelry store just before seven p.m.—a few minutes before closing. George had called ahead to make sure the manager, a woman named Candy Corlean, would be able to stay past closing time if we were late. Candy was tall and so thin and pale that she looked almost ghostly. Her bleached-blond hair was nearly white, and her forehead was taut and wrinkle free.

“Hi there, I’m Nancy Drew.” I introduced Bess and George too and launched into an explanation about my dad, the court case, and how we were helping. Candy seemed more than willing to share the details of the night the jewels had disappeared.

The place was dripping with rings, bracelets, necklaces, and even loose stones that had yet to be set. I peeked over my shoulder and saw Bess sigh and smile dreamily. A jewelry store was her happy place. I’m sure she’d have stayed forever if she could.

Candy led us to the counter that had been robbed. The case was empty.

“The police assured me we could reopen for business, but they told me not to touch this particular area,” she said, waving her hand over the long glass box that had housed the stolen jewels.

“The missing stones were loose?” I asked.

“Yes,” Candy told me. “Stealing a setting would have been far more difficult. We tag all our set jewelry. We don’t want to mar the beauty of a stone with a sticky tag, so we leave those unmarked.” Moving to a different case, she brought out a tray of rings. Bess leaned in, saying, “Ohhhhhh.”

There were small white tags on each ring. “These tags have sensors embedded in them,” Candy told us. She pointed up to a row of security cameras that were carefully placed all around the ceiling. “The sensors send information to the security system. If someone tried to walk out without paying, alarms would go off and the police would be here in minutes. The tags are very difficult to remove—the sales reps take them off when they polish each piece for a customer.”

“Can I take a closer look?” George asked.

Candy handed her a ring. Bess’s fingers twitched as George examined the sensor tag, which also listed the price. She quickly handed the ring back to the shop manager. “Wow, that costs more than a new car. Two cars even.”

“It’s a—,” Candy started to say.

“Flawless sapphire,” Bess finished. “Cushion cut and set in platinum.”

If Bess had asked for a job just then, it would have been hers. The look on Candy’s face told us that she was impressed.

I hadn’t actually seen the surveillance tapes from the night the store was robbed. I knew only what Ned had told me: John Smallwood was seen wandering around the shop the night the gems disappeared. He was the last customer to leave that night.

I asked George to pull up a few photos on her smartphone. She quickly found pictures of Drake Lonestar and his daughters from a gossip website.

I zoomed in on the twins and handed the phone to Candy. “In the days before the robbery, did either of these girls happen to come into the store?”

She took a long look at the photo. “No.”

Next I zoomed in on Drake Lonestar’s grin. “And him? He’s been in town for about a week. Have you seen this man come by?”

“No,” Candy replied.

“Are you sure?” I asked lightly, not wanting to imply that I didn’t trust her memory.

“With all due respect, Ms. Drew, I have been the eyes and ears of this place for twenty years. The security system is really only in use when I am not here. I have personally stopped nearly ninety shoplifters and prevented six burglaries from taking place,” she proudly said. “I am very, very good at my job.” She added in a lower voice, “That’s why this is extra upsetting. Never has anything like this happened under my watch.”

I asked George to bring up another picture—this one of Hugo from Lonestar’s website. I turned the phone around so that Candy could see it.

“No,” she said firmly. “I’ve never seen that man.”

That left John Smallwood. I pressed my lips together, wondering what I was missing.

“Can I see how the burglar entered the shop?” George asked.