Free Cut by Emily Duvall Page B

closed the lid.
    The name Elizabeth meant nothing to her. To be sure, Jessie spent a few minutes in childhood lane. She mentally reviewed the neighborhood kids and their siblings, cousins, acquaintances, and friends. She came up with nothing. Nobody in her past or her present was named Elizabeth.
    Perhaps the name belonged to someone in Melanie’s life, which meant Luke would be the person to ask. That possibility made her hesitate. She didn’t want to talk to him at all, let alone ask a personal question about Melanie.
    The more she thought about the note and the gemstone, the more frustrated she grew. “Why didn’t she give this to Luke?” she asked the pair of wingback chairs facing her. She continued to look at them as if they might come to life and answer her question. “Anyone?”
    She moved her foot. The wrapping paper on the floor snagged on something. The box. She could start there. It hadn’t been in her bag when she packed. All of her friends had met up at Clara’s house and they’d driven together. The “gift” had ended up in Jessie’s bag courtesy of someone else. She was meant to open the box and read the note.
    Jessie picked up her phone and dialed Clara’s number. The call landed straight in voicemail territory. No message necessary. Instead, she cut off the call. She typed a message for Clara to call her back immediately.
    â€œCome on, call me back,” she pleaded to the phone.
    The phone didn’t ring. Clara didn’t call.
    Jessie waited.
    Still no ring.
    She tossed her phone on the bed. The only plausible scenario included one where Melanie physically stopped by the Ritz. That didn’t make sense though. Jessie hadn’t invited her to the bachelorette weekend, so the chances of Melanie showing up in such a big city on the same day at the same place were remote in the extreme. So she must’ve found out the specifics of the party from someone else.
    Jessie got to her feet. Melanie might have actually been at the Ritz. They could have been at the hotel on the same day. They might have missed each other by mere minutes or a few hours. Would they have spoken if they had run into each other? Would Jessie have known what to say or how to react?
    She needed to do something. She looked at the gemstone again and her curiosity caught fire. She wanted to know what she had in her hand. Jessie tucked the note in the box. She put the gemstone in her front pocket. She would go get some answers.
    A local jeweler might be able to help her, except she didn’t know where to look for one. This wasn’t her town. She needed someone who knew about gemstones…a person close by…someone like…Brent.
    Yes, Brent.
    She almost laughed at the irony. The mistake of leaving her engagement ring at his house now gave her the perfect opening. She would go to him, but she would keep the gemstone a secret—for now.
    Somehow, Melanie had found a way to get to her. She chose Jessie over her own husband and his brother, both experts in the gemstone industry. Even if Jessie had lost Melanie’s trust over the past two years, she would follow this lead. It felt like a start.
    She got her butt down to the lobby and out to the curb. “I need a cab,” she told the valet. He raised his finger and a yellow car appeared from behind a line of parked cars.
    â€œRight over here, Miss,” the valet said, opening the cab door for her.
    â€œTwenty-seven twenty-eight Rosemond Street,” she told the driver as she got in.
    The cab driver raised an eyebrow and thrust the parking lever into drive. “Okay.”
    The cityscape flew by as the car picked up speed. The iconic Victorian houses faded into a section of town with rundown storefronts. Newspapers filled the windows of some of the establishments. Litter spotted the sidewalks. Front yards weren’t kept up and gates around the properties looked ready to fall over. They passed a