Draconic Amnesty

Chapter 5 - Family

“All of it, Frank.” Elias unzipped the side pocket of his backpack and dumped the jewelry onto the pawn shop’s glass countertop. “I want to sell all of it.”

Frank, a heavyset man with a salt and pepper goatee, sighed. The audible exhalation made a soft whistle through a mouth that lacked its two front teeth. “You know I can’t take stolen merchandise, Elias.”

“It’s not stolen.” Elias stared directly into the man’s beady eyes, eyes that reflected the glitter of the gold set before him. “My grandmother passed away last week.”

“Yeh?” Frank’s stubby fingers sorted through the rings, bracelets and necklaces. “I assume it’s not the same grandmother that died last month? Or the month before that?”

“Two thousand.” Elias’s eyes drifted up to the wall-mounted television. Even over the sound of the construction crew’s jackhammer outside, he picked up the lilting voice of Fox 12’s chief news correspondent, Margaret McKinney. She was covering the story of a house fire in Hillside.

“No can do, Elias.” Frank extracted a monocular loupe and examined a gemstone set into one of the rings. “Not that the quality isn’t impressive mind you, but —”

“Fifteen.” Like a voice recording, Elias droned the number, inattentive, as if he’d anticipated Frank’s resistance. The old man’s predictability trivialized the interaction, especially considering the attention-grabbing topic of Margaret’s report:

“Here we have live footage showing the unusual house fire on Pittock Drive.” The camera panned to show the house, the side where the master bedroom resided. “As you can see, the fire burned through this wall, searing the grass and two trees.”

A large hole, circular and ash-rimmed, defaced the blackened siding and offered a clear view into the walk-in closet. Pieces of seared insulation drifted like dandelion seeds in the wind.

“The blaze had already been extinguished by the time the fire department arrived and, incredibly, no other fire damage was found,” Margaret said. “Authorities suspect a burglary attempt as the house’s attic vent had been removed. They speculate the criminals used a bomb to destroy the safe in the closet. Part of the safe appears to have melted onto its contents. The owners have been contacted —”

“Elias!” Frank lowered the monocular and squinted.

“What?” A bomb? The criminals used a bomb?

“Fifteen for all of it?” Frank asked, impatience obvious in his tone.

“Yeh.”

“Deal!” Frank extended his chubby hand; Elias shook it.

“Strong grip you got there, boy.” Frank pulled away and opened the cash register. “Doin’ them steroids I take it?”

As Frank counted twenties, Elias replayed the newscast in his mind. Earlier that night, after Wren’s vague explanation, he’d assumed that she’d burned some clothing. At worst, he figured she started a small fire before extinguishing it with water from the bathroom.

He did not expect to see a gaping hole in an exterior wall. Nor did he expect to hear about a damaged safe. Hardened steel doesn’t just melt, not without a thermal lance or a plasma cutter, neither of which were available to her. It sure as fuck wouldn’t be harmed by a Zippo lighter.

“Don’t spend it all in one place.” Frank handed over the wad of bills.

“Thanks.” Elias pocketed the cash. Unfortunately, he would spend it all in one place, specifically at his next destination.