112. Receipt, Financial Dispute

Luster’s home was in an old, low-rise apartment building whose exterior walls bore the weathered marks of time, like a drowsy old man weary from the sun and wind.

Dean stepped inside, adopting an omniscient perspective.

The apartment had two bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen—not large, but tidy. The furniture and appliances were somewhat aged, and the pale yellow checkered wallpaper on the walls lent the space a warm, cozy atmosphere.

“I was last here over six months ago,” Dean said with an inexplicable sense of nostalgia. That had been the second day after he crossed over, when he befriended Luster and they began investigating Mona’s disappearance together.

“I remember it clearly,” Luster said, a flicker of joyful memory crossing his face. “You beat up Bob Lowe in the school cafeteria that day, then hid out at my place overnight. That’s when your personality suddenly changed… you became an all-powerful superhero, the hero of Mead Lake, a martial arts master.”

“You’re lucky to have a good mother. Hmm, I still savor the taste of Grace’s fried pork chops,” Dean said with a hint of envy.

“I’ve always invited you over, but you never accepted. Now you want some…” Luster’s words faltered, and the smile faded from his lips.

“Just wait for her to come back,” Dean said, patting his shoulder as he moved toward the bedroom on the right.

Inside, the warm yellow bedding, nightstand, dressing mirror, and a massive wardrobe occupying the entire back wall caught Dean’s eye.

On the nightstand, a framed family photo stood out.

In it, a five- or six-year-old Luster sat in the middle, flanked by his tall, handsome father—radiant as the sun—and his young, beautiful mother, whose lips curved in a gentle, spring-like smile.

A perfect, happy family.

“My dad’s pretty handsome, isn’t he?” Luster said with pride.

“He could have been an actor,” Dean complimented. He hadn’t seen this photo during his previous visit.

Luster picked up the frame, regret clouding his expression. “Unfortunately, he left early, leaving my mother to bear the burden of life alone.”

“Yes, Grace raised you on her own to become a student at a prestigious university. That’s remarkable,” Dean comforted in a knowing tone, casually pulling open a drawer of the nightstand.

There were skincare lotions, lipsticks… countless cosmetics, all seemingly brand-name. But none held the clue Dean sought.

He turned to the wardrobe and opened it, revealing a vast array of colorful women’s clothing: suits, dresses, shirts, vests, sweaters, trench coats—everything imaginable hung and stacked inside, totaling at least a hundred pieces.

Dean opened a central drawer to find exquisite rings, necklaces, and other jewelry.

“Do all women really have this many cosmetics and accessories?”

“Grace’s work environment requires her to look polished every day; otherwise, it’s considered disrespectful,” Luster explained, his face tinged with sadness.

“Well then, with someone as beautiful as her, why has she remained single all these years? Has she never considered finding you a stepfather?” Dean asked casually.

“She worries a stepfather might treat me badly.” Luster’s gaze drifted to the drawer, then sharpened. “Wait, some things are missing—gold earrings, necklaces, rings?”

“Dean, there used to be a set of gold jewelry here!”

“Pure gold?”

“Yes. My dad gave it to Grace after they married.” Luster rifled through the drawer, his brow furrowed deeper. “A diamond wedding band is gone, too.”

“Did Grace take them out yesterday?”

“Unlikely. She was wearing one on her hand.” Luster shook his head. “The remaining wedding band belonged to my late father, always kept in this drawer.”

“Keep looking.”

The two of them turned the entire bedroom upside down, then searched the living room, entryway, kitchen, and Luster’s bedroom.

Dean’s omniscient view was relentless; even a fly would have nowhere to hide.

But after half an hour, they failed to find the gold jewelry or the diamond ring. Instead, under Grace’s bed in a box, they found a receipt.

At the top was Grace Spencer’s home phone number and address.

Below, a form listed pawned items: gold rings, necklaces, earrings, and a wedding band, totaling just over ten thousand dollars.

The date was December 10, 1980.

Luster sat back on the sofa, stunned, staring blankly into space.

“She actually pawned her jewelry,” he muttered, deeply hurt.

“How’s it going, buddy?”

“Not well. The jewelry was the only keepsake from my father,” Luster whispered. “How could she sell it?”

“Think carefully—has the family been short on money recently?” Dean asked. “Would Grace have needed to pawn her jewelry?”

“I couldn’t tell at all,” Luster replied softly. “She said she’d cover my college tuition and would even buy me a car when I got accepted.”

Then perhaps she was barely holding on.

Dean scanned the room and changed the question. “Did you buy this apartment?”

Luster paused, a bit puzzled by the question, then shook his head.

“We don’t have that kind of money. We just rent.”

“Renting in a location near downtown costs a few hundred dollars a month, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How much does Grace make working at the hotel?”

“A bit over a thousand a month.”

A modest income.

Dean did some quick mental math: after living expenses and rent, there was very little left.

But from what he remembered, Luster’s family lived comfortably. Their food, clothing, housing, even the Ford car, were decent. Luster had even generously paid for their trip to Santa Monica Beach.

It definitely didn’t seem like a family struggling financially.

Luster seemed to read Dean’s doubt.

“After my father’s sacrifice, we received a compensation fund. Grace used that money to move us to Las Vegas, where we endured the tough early years. She took me to renowned psychologists, spending a lot, and finally cured my psychological issues.”

“Our daily expenses were high; Grace loved buying expensive cosmetics and jewelry, and the clothes and shoes she bought for me weren’t cheap either.”

Dean nodded. Working in a Strip hotel, Grace was exposed to wealthy guests, making frugality difficult.

“Recently…” Luster ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, deep in thought. “Since Brittany and I went to Tucson, Arizona, for a college interview, we’ve spent a lot on travel and shopping.”

As he spoke, he connected Dean’s earlier questions and suddenly realized.

“I should have realized sooner. After all these years, the compensation money must be gone. It’s impossible to maintain the lifestyle we had before.” Regret clouded his face as he clenched his cup. “If I get accepted to the University of Arizona, there’ll be a huge tuition bill. Knowing Grace, she’ll do whatever it takes to help me pay it!”

“She’s always hoped I’d get into a well-known university. Only for that reason could she bear to part with those precious pieces of jewelry…” Luster’s voice cracked, his nose tingling.

Dean sighed, his expression complex.

College tuition for a few years could easily amount to tens of thousands—a trivial sum for him but a massive burden for most ordinary families, including Luster’s.

Selling jewelry alone probably wouldn’t be enough.

“But I’ve still been wasteful. I haven’t considered Grace’s feelings at all!” Luster’s voice rose.

“Don’t blame yourself. Grace raised you alone in a big city. She’s a strong woman,” Dean said, leaning against the wall beneath the clock, recalling how she had refused his help outside the Gowen Hotel. “Even if she faced difficulties, she wouldn’t tell you.”

“That’s true. She’s stubborn,” Luster lowered his head, remembering. “Since we moved to Las Vegas, she faced the challenges of finding work and renting a place alone. She never shared her struggles with friends or colleagues. I was too young to help. Most of the time, I only learned about problems after she’d already solved them.”

“But I’m an adult now. I should’ve gotten a job by now to help her!”

His voice grew louder, eyes reddening.

“Yet I still selfishly enjoy her sacrifices and care. I’m just a selfish, useless person!”

Bang!

He slammed his fist onto the coffee table, which shook violently. The glass of water slid off and teetered on the edge.

Dean quickly bent down and, like a magician, caught the glass and handed it to him. Sitting beside him, he put an arm around his shoulders.

“Listen, buddy. Don’t act like a moody teenager blaming yourself. It won’t help. Focus on the present. Our conclusion: Grace pawned the gold jewelry and wedding band because of financial strain.”

Luster took a deep breath and nodded.

…

“I have an idea now. We’ve seen enough of the apartment. Let’s head back to the bureau and talk on the way,” Dean said, walking toward the door.

Luster wiped the corner of his eye.

“Wait, I’ll leave a note. In case Grace comes back, she’ll see it.”

They left the apartment and reached the elevator.

Dean said, “Last month, I saw a man harassing Grace outside the Gowen Hotel.”

Luster’s expression tightened.

“I helped her out. When I asked why, she said he was a persistent suitor,” Dean said, opening the door to the hallway. “Now it seems she made that up to avoid involving me.”

“Who was that jerk?”

“You already know.”

Luster blanked for a moment, then realization dawned.

“The man who hired those thugs to beat me up?”

“Exactly—the scar-faced guy. He first harassed your mother outside the hotel, then hired people to attack you. Can you see the connection?”

“He ordered my beating because of Grace? He’s using me to threaten her!” Luster was quick to piece it together. “No wonder Grace was so angry and scared when she saw me after the attack. It’s like she knew who was behind it.”

“That’s right.” Dean pressed the elevator button.

Luster said harshly, “But why would the scar-faced guy do this? Because Grace rejected him, he’s taking it out on me?”

Dean shook his head as they stepped into the elevator.

“Remember our earlier conclusion: your family’s financial situation has been tight. Grace even pawned her precious wedding jewelry.”

Dean paused, then deduced, “So, there’s likely a financial dispute between Grace and the scar-faced man. From January to February, even though Grace quit her job, she was out early and home late every day, all related to this man.”

“You mean Grace borrowed money from him?” Luster guessed.

“That’s my suspicion, though not confirmed. But if we can’t find Grace, we should start with this scar-faced guy.”

Dean glanced at his system; after this analysis, the progress bar rose from fifteen to twenty-five percent.

Luster felt both hopeful and anxious. “I’m really uneasy. What if we’re wrong?”

“My conclusion is based on inference and deduction; mistakes are normal,” Dean said calmly. “I’m just exploring possibilities, and the system’s progress updates help gauge their likelihood.”

“But we have a backup plan. Even if our approach fails, Carl, Holden, and the LVPD officers are investigating this disappearance through conventional means. Their efforts will be effective.”

Luster felt somewhat reassured and followed Dean out of the apartment building.

The sky was gloomy, heavy black clouds pressing down like an abyss.

(End of chapter)