Chapter 8 - The Pawn Ticket
When I realized Arthur's ring had been taken, the last shred of mercy in my body turned to ash.
That ring had remained on Arthur’s hand through two tours in the Navy and thirty years of police service. I had taken it off his finger at the hospice center with my own hands.
At 10:00 AM on Monday morning, Robert Vance and I walked into the Columbus Police Department's 4th Precinct. The detective on duty, Detective Miller (no relation), was an officer Arthur had mentored fifteen years ago.
"Linda," Miller said, standing up immediately from behind his desk. "Ethan told me you were having some tenant trouble, but what's this about a break-in?"
"Ethan told you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"He called me yesterday, asking if there was any way to stop an eviction from going on someone's record," Miller admitted, looking sheepish. "I told him it wasn't my department."
I placed a flash drive on the desk. "Watch this, James."
For twenty minutes, Detective Miller watched the high-definition footage. His jaw clenched tighter with every passing minute. When Kyle’s voice came through the speaker laughing about stealing Arthur’s bourbon, Miller’s face darkened.
"That's Arthur's retirement bottle," Miller whispered.
"And here," I said, fast-forwarding to Kyle coming out of my bedroom. "He took Arthur's gold band. Along with two diamond tennis bracelets from my late mother."
"We run daily automated serial-number and description checks on local pawn shops," Miller said, pulling his keyboard toward him. "Let me search Franklin County pawn registries for Kyle's name over the weekend."
Within ninety seconds, two hits popped up on the monitor.
On Saturday afternoon at 4:15 PM—less than an hour after fleeing my home—Kyle had walked into *Buckeye Gold & Pawn* on West Broad Street. He had pawned a men’s 14-karat gold engraved wedding band for two hundred and forty dollars. The engraving on the inside was logged in the police database: *“Forever Arthur & Linda – 1984.”*
"Two hundred and forty dollars," I whispered, tears of rage finally burning my eyes. "He sold my husband's life for two hundred and forty dollars."
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Detective Miller stood up, grabbing his service belt. "I'm issuing an arrest warrant for felony grand theft and possession of stolen property right now."
***
