CHAPTER EIGHT
Walking into the New Haven police department’s back room, which was noisy with the trilling of phones and the thrum of printers, Stella saw two constables were already gathering information on the area’s secondhand stores.
“Good morning, Agents.” The female constable looked up from the pages spread over the desk, her face flushed with excitement under her curly brown hairstyle. “We’ve checked the city database for anything resembling the egg but nothing has been entered so far. We’ve compiled a list of all the pawnbrokers and secondhand stores within a ten-mile radius of the Taylors’ home address. We’re now going to start on the jewelry stores, but we both thought that a pawnbroker would be the first choice for this kind of sale. I hope that’s right?”
“That’s great. Good t
