The short police officer was the one who searched Hector Vaughn. It was summer, so no one was wearing many layers, and the number of pockets on their clothes was plain to see.
Based on what the tall officer had said earlier, the short officer didn't think Hector Vaughn was the thief. But as he checked the coin pocket of Hector's jeans, he felt something.
The short officer's expression hardened. He reached into the pocket and, in an instant, pulled out a bracelet that glittered brightly in the light.
"Is this yours?" the short officer asked.
Aurora Sterling nodded. "Yes, it is."
Hector Vaughn stared, dumbfounded, at the bracelet in the officer's hand—the one that had just been pulled from his pocket. "This is impossible! How did this get on me? It's impossible! I didn't steal it!"
"But we did find this bracelet on you. How do you explain that?" the short officer asked, his voice cold.
