Coop had been about to call the other woman on the same thing.
“Exactly. Whoever gave your grandfather the necklace probably got it from a fence,” Charlotte said, amending her new story to suit the facts.
“Makes complete sense to me,” Sylvia said.
They reminded him of a comedy pair. Laverne and Shirley or Lucy and Ethel came to mind.
Coop rubbed his eyes with his palms. Their banter was getting to him as well. “Ladies, that would work except for one important detail. The family who originally owned the jewels and from whom they were stolen was named Lancaster and lived in Manhattan.”
Lexie nodded. “And I remember mentioning the other day that Sylvia once said Grandpa worked for a family named Lancaster.”
Charlotte’s lips pursed in a pout. “As I recall, I said I don’t remember that name or conversation. What’s the point of all this?” She began fanning herself with the rumpled napkin. “Is it warm in here?”
“Grandma, are you okay?” Lexie rose from her chair.
“I’m fine. Just suddenly overheated from the wine.”
“Which is why you shouldn’t be drinking.” Lexie began clearing the table, starting with the wine-glasses and bottle, carrying them to the sink far from Sylvia and Charlotte’s reach.
“The Surgeon General says one glass of red wine is good for your heart!” Charlotte said.
“I’m sure half a bottle of Manischewitz Concord Grape exceeds the recommended daily allowance,” Lexie said.
“Get back to the point. I need to know what it is you’re suggesting,” Charlotte said, her eyes narrowed.
Lexie drew a deep breath. “That maybe Grandpa didn’t actually get the necklace as payment. Maybe he just said he did. Maybe he—”
“You think your grandfather was a thief?” Charlotte asked, her voice rising, clearly appalled at the notion.
Lexie rushed over and put a comforting hand on her grandmother’s shoulder. “Grandma, I’m not saying that at all. Of course, I don’t believe it. But if it appears that way on the face of things, then we need to dig deeper and clear his name!”
The pain in Lexie’s face sliced through Coop unexpectedly.
“What’s the point?” Sylvia asked. “Obviously, nobody has looked into that case in years. Why would they start now?”
Lexie’s gaze fell to Coop and he squirmed in his seat. They both knew he’d be digging up the past and he waited for Lexie to out him.
She kept her hand on her grandmother’s shoulder in support. “It turns out that, although Coop got the ring from a woman, the actual owner of the store is a man. And he’s called Coop more than once trying to get the ring back.”
Lexie didn’t meet Coop’s surprised stare. She hadn’t told her grandmother that he was planning to write this story, and he couldn’t imagine why she’d covered for him.
Before he could process the thought, Sylvia began to cough.
Charlotte jumped up and slapped her friend hard on the back.
“Watch it. You’ll crack a rib,” Sylvia muttered.
“Are you okay?” Coop asked.
Lexie hovered on the other side of Sylvia’s chair.
“I’m fine. Choked on my own spit.” The older woman dabbed at her damp eyes with a napkin.
Coop glanced at the toasted older women and knew they wouldn’t be getting any lucid information from them today. “I think you ladies should lie down and take a nap,” he suggested.
“That’s a good idea.” Lexie helped Sylvia up from her chair, then Charlotte. “Coop and I will take care of things here.”
As Coop watched the two women depart, he had the definite sense they knew more than they were telling. He just didn’t know what. Or whether Lexie would see past her worry for her grandmother and believe Coop’s instincts, which had never failed him before.
IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG to straighten up the kitchen after lunch and Coop helped Lexie, respecting her obvious need for silence. Lexie was grateful for the short time to gather her thoughts. The pretty flowers he’d bought sat in a vase on the counter, reminding her that he wasn’t a complete jerk. Just a self-centered one whose story meant more to him than her grandmother’s feelings.
“I see you have your hands full with those two.” Coop broke the silence, speaking of her grandmother and Sylvia.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” She blew her hair out of her face. “And I never got a chance to tell my grandmother that her necklace is stolen property and she’ll likely have to return it.”
Coop nodded. “There’s time for that.” He placed his hand on her back, the innocent touch immediately turning hot as awareness sizzled through her.
His eyes darkened to a hue she recognized from last night.
Lexie swallowed hard. How was it that this man had such an overwhelming effect on her?
“Let’s sit,” Coop said, his voice rough. “We need to talk.”
His jaw was taut. Not a good sign.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Come.” His hand still on the small of her back, he guided her toward one of the kitchen chairs.
“Would you rather sit in the family room where it’s more comfortable?”
He shook his head. “It’s more private in here. I don’t want your grandmother to overhear.”
Uh-oh.
Lexie lowered herself into her seat. “What’s going on?”
Coop straddled the chair next to her, looking sexier than any man had the right to. “First things first. Why didn’t you give me up? You could have told your grandmother about my story, but you didn’t.”
She’d wondered that herself. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I wasn’t looking out for you. I was looking out for her. I figured she’d have enough to deal with today without adding that to the mix.” Which had been the initial reason she’d given herself.
There was another, more personal reason as well.
“Is that it?” Coop pushed.
Damn the reporter in him.
“Fine. My grandmother likes you.” And that mattered to Lexie more than it should. “I didn’t want to disillusion her.”
Coop cleared his throat. “I don’t think your grandmother has as many illusions about life as you think.”
Lexie narrowed her gaze. “What exactly does that mean?”
“You said yourself that she and Sylvia have been acting strangely lately, right?”