Michael headed for what was nominally his office but was pretty much Melissa's these days. Since they shared a first and middle initial along with a last name, some joker had taken a Sharpie to the nameplate. It now read "MA KnightS." Michael suspected Bonnie: Devon wouldn't stoop to graffiti and Kitt didn't have hands, even if he could have fit down the hall.

Sure enough, that's where he found Melissa. She was – finally – off bed rest, though the doctor had her using a wheelchair when she wasn't in PT. She was on the phone when he got to the office. From the sounds of it, she was talking with a jeweler. Or rather, listening, taking notes, and asking a few probing questions. Michael had to admit she made a great research assistant.

As she hung up, she gave him a bright smile. He simply looked at her in response. "I think I've got a handle on what sort of items the thieves go after."

"Go on."

"All the thieves have to go on is the auction brochure: an okay photo, a very brief description of the piece, and an estimated value. Sometimes the owner's name, especially if it's a charity auction and they want everyone to know what they've donated. Now, the thieves aren't always taking the highest value items or something easy like everything with diamonds. So I've been trying to figure out how they pick what they pick."

"Hence the call to the jeweler." Michael gestured at the phone.

"Jewelers, plural. Once I got the brochures from the seven other sites –"

"Seven?"

"I asked for the brochure from the theft you interrupted. We may not know what they were after, but we know they were after something on the list. Anyway, I went through and took notes on each piece of jewelry listed, whether it was taken or not. What type of piece, what it was made of, the value. That sort of thing."

"Didn't tell you much, I guess."

Melissa shook her head. "No, not really. So I called a jeweler, explained what the problem was, and got to speak with a very nice guy. He mostly deals in high-end gold: chains, rings, stuff like that. He put me on to another jeweler, one who specializes in pieces with precious gems. And that guy referred me to a jeweler who specializes in engraved pieces. She referred me to the last woman, a jeweler who appraises pieces for insurance."

"Which makes you an expert in high-end jewelry. I'll be sure to let Devon know he'd best be careful when picking out gifts for you."

Melissa gave him an angry look. Michael put up his hands and took a step back. "It was meant as a joke. But I apparently stepped on a landmine. My bad."

Melissa relaxed and gave a rueful laugh. "I didn't know it was there, either. I'm not sure where it came from."

"I'm gonna guess Elizabeth left it. She struck me as the sort who valued a gift based on cost."

"Yeah, she did. Besides Uncle Devon always gives tasteful gifts."

"Are you saying I don't?"

Melissa glanced at the first gift Michael had ever given her: a garishly colorful umbrella stand, to hold her crutch and leg brace. "Not the first adjective that comes to mind, no."

Now that they were back on the right foot, Michael steered the conversation back to the case. "And what have you learned from all your research?"

"Well, first rule: no sets."

"Because?"

"Most women are particular about the jewelry they wear. A woman who likes chokers and bangles won't take a set that has a choker and a chain bracelet. And you can't break up a set because –"

"A lot of the value is in the fact that it's a set."

"Yup. Plus, no woman is going to wear something that matches another woman's jewelry."

"Okay so far. First rule implies at least a second rule."

"Rule two: nothing too distinctive or you can't get it insured. Rather, if you try –"

"The insurance company will likely know it has been stolen."

"Right. And the third and final rule: nothing too delicate."

"It's jewelry; it's all delicate."

"Not exactly. Some pieces are so delicate that if you shove it in your pocket, bits will fall off. And these guys aren't grabbing the display trays, only the jewelry itself."

"Gotcha."

"Anyway, I can make an educated guess about which pieces from the Halloway charity event brochure the thieves might want."

"Meaning you think they do plan to hit it up?" Melissa nodded, so he said, "Give me your top ten list. I'll have Bonnie make us up some miniature tracking devices we can place on each piece. We let the thieves steal them and, hopefully, track them to their hideout."

"I'll get you that list as soon as I can."

"Is that all you have for me?"

"I'm not sure. Something about the list of people who got the Halloway charity event flyer just . . . I don't know. I keep looking at it. There's something there, something odd. I just can't put my finger on it."

"How about comparing it to the list of people who got flyers for the other events, to look for matches?"

"Would if I could. But not everyone was willing to give us that, especially for the three private auctions. Besides, there weren't any names in common on the one other list I do have. So that's a dead end. Though . . ."

Her voice trailed off as she tried to force whatever it was to bubble up. Michael knew that rarely worked.

"I think you've done enough for one day. You need a break. Anywhere you'd like to go? Boston for the Marathon?"

Melissa laughed. "You are not going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Would you let me live that down, if our positions were reversed?"

"Not a chance."

"There you go."