her.
âMarla owns the Better Off Bed-and-Breakfast,â Lila explained. âShe refers her guests to me all the time.â
Brighton had to laugh. âThe Better Off Bed-and-Breakfast? The Rebound Salon and the Jilted Café? Whatâs going on with this town?â
âLast year, there was a national news story that said Black Dog Bay is the best place in America to get over your breakup. So we get a lot of recently single visitors. We call them heartbreak tourists.â
Brighton started to put the pieces of the puzzle together. âHence, the Naked Finger.â
âRight. I deal with all the wedding rings and other jewelry that women donât want or have to sell after a breakup. I just started the business a few months ago.â
Brighton peered at the pieces beneath the glass countertops. Bracelets and pendants and watches and oh so many diamond rings. âHowâs it going?â
âGreat.â Lila beamed. âBetter than I expected, actually. Iâve been in sales for a long time, but it never ceases to amaze me how much money people are willing to spend on clothes and accessories.â
âBut jewelryâs more than an accessory.â Brighton studied a pair of art deco emerald earrings. âItâs very emotional.â
Lila nodded. âThatâs true. Every piece in here has a history. Some clients want to tell me the stories, some donât want to talk about it at all.â She pointed out the box of tissues by the cash register. âEither way, I try to be supportive.â
âSo you buy the pieces and resell them?â Brighton asked.
âWell, I try to convince clients to reuse the stones in a new setting, but sometimes they donât want to. Sometimes, a client just wants to be rid of them, which I get. Been there myself.â
âYou have?â Brighton regarded the proprietor with renewed interest. Lila looked so polished and perfect, it was easy to assume sheâd never had to endure heartbreak or disappointment.
âI sold my own wedding rings, once upon a time.â Lila glanced down at her left hand. âThatâs when I found out that jewelry doesnât hold its retail value. Itâs kind of like a new car; once you drive it off the lotââ
âWait. Is this what I think it is?â Brighton spied a heavy silver ring on the counter, and she couldnât stop herself from interrupting.
Lila picked up the ring and handed it over. âYou tell me. Iâve never seen anything like this before. A heartbreak tourist dropped this off this morning and Iâve been trying to figure out what it should appraise for.â
Brighton held the massive ring aloft so she could examine it from all sides. Although the silver shank was sized for petite hands, the prongs were wide and sturdy. They had to be to support the red stone skull and the green, blue, and purple cabochons. This was a badass rock star of a ring, a ring that demanded brazen confidence from its wearer.
She admired the craftsmanship but didnât try it on.
âThe owner is staying at Marlaâs,â Lila went on. âShe said her ex-boyfriend gave it to her and she needs to get rid of it before she uses it for evil.â
Brighton started to smile as she examined the sides of the setting. âThatâs what she said?â
âThose were her exact words. She insisted I keep it overnight in the safe. Iâve been trying to figure out how old it is and what I should offer for it.â
Brighton felt a small surge of triumph as she located a pair of narrow silver hinges. She ran her fingernail along the side of the sneering red skull until she felt a tiny clasp give way. âThis is a poison ring. I havenât seen one of these in years.â
Lila looked alarmed. âA poison ring?â
âCheck it out.â Brighton lifted one edge of the red skull, revealing a shallow silver compartment beneath. âThese