“No,” Halcyon said. “I just love a good Jerry Springer drama as long as it doesn’t involve me.”

Alexios frowned. “The child was raised by Aphrodite and is now languishing in a super easy position that requires next to no skill and very little of his time.”

“So he got a better job than you,” Halcyon said.

“Way better,” Alexios said, then looked at Marina. “If I’ve answered all your inquiries about the ring and provided your sister with a suitable amount of drama to mull over, I’d like to take my leave. There’s a Hallmark Golden Girls marathon on.”

“Really?” Halcyon perked up.

“Not now,” Marina said and nodded to Alexios. “I think we’re done.”

He headed out the door and Halcyon raced after him, but even though she yanked the door open the second it closed, he was nowhere to be seen.

“I wish I could do that,” Halcyon said as she closed the door. “Especially after church when all those committee women are just lurking on the back row, waiting to pounce.”

“They’re mercenary.”

“I was claiming heavy water consumption, then leaving five minutes early, figuring they’d all think I was going to the ladies’ room.”

“I wish I would have thought of that.”

Halcyon sighed. “It only worked twice before one of them started following me out and accosting me in the bathroom.”

“She didn’t talk through the stall door, did she?”

“Good Lord, no. This is the South, not prison.”

“So what should we do now? Hit up pawnshops?”

Halcyon nodded. “After that, I think we should walk the neighborhoods. See if you get a twinge or something passing one of the houses.”

“I guess I have to change clothes, right?”

“Unless you want everyone in town staring at us. You’re already going to be the subject of speculation given the situation with Harold. There’s no point in making yourself easy to spot.”

“I’ll grab a ball cap and sunglasses,” Marina said. “And a set for you as well.”

“I’ve never worn a ball cap in my life.”

“Then I’ll get you my floppy beach hat. But it does me no good to disguise myself if you’re strolling around as you.”

“Fine, then, I’ll wear the stupid floppy hat, but you’re going to have to style my hair afterward. I have a booty…uh, gentleman caller tonight.”

“Isn’t the drummer working tonight?”

“Yes. Which is why the petroleum engineer is on the books.”

“You know what? I don’t even want to know.”

Chapter Twelve

There were two pawnshops in Last Chance on the outskirts of town and across the street from each other. Marina supposed it cut down on travel time for the shoppers and the sellers of secondhand items. She’d never been in either, but Halcyon, who’d had a couple of weird experiences trying to sell things herself, had sold a few items of value that her last two husbands had left behind when she’d booted them out. The only things she’d held on to were the wedding rings, and she’d claimed she was saving them for the creation of an individual piece. She’d just never found the craftsman or decided what she wanted.