Diamond Legacy

by Monica McCabe

  “We are,” came Neil’s sharp reply.

  Panic flared and Miranda dove for the hay pile. She fiercely dug in, burying herself under as much hay as she could fling in three seconds flat.

  “Why are you standing there?” the man shouted. “Check it out!”

  Another bang. Miranda couldn’t tell if it was the horse again or the slamming open of the stall door. Fear pounded in her heart, loud enough to wake the dead. Afraid to move a muscle or even breathe, she closed her eyes and prayed the hay left nothing exposed.

  “It’s only a stupid pony,” Neil claimed, his voice sounding right beside her.

  Chaff slid down her shirt and scratched against bare skin. She ignored it. Then a tickle began in her nose, the dust threatening to make her sneeze.

  “Why is it here?” the man asked.

  “What do you think?” Diana smarted off. “We’re in a stable.”

  “This meeting is over.” The frigidness of the man’s tone made Miranda wonder at Diana’s sanity. Sarcasm didn’t seem the wisest choice for dealing with thugs, no matter how smartly dressed they were.

  “Shut your hole, Diana,” Neil barked as he joined them back in the aisle. “Tonight at ten, we will be there.”

  “Bring some glass for verification,” the man said. “And leave the doffie at home.”

  Their footsteps faded. Miranda counted to fifty and popped her head out. Inhaling deep, she filled her lungs with the pungent aroma of the stable. Never had it smelled so good. She climbed out of the pile of straw and peeked around the half door. She was alone.

  With a heavy sigh of relief she began brushing bits of hay from her clothing and hair. Spartan kicked the gate again and stared at her expectantly.

  “Traitor!” she whispered. “You nearly blew my cover.”

  The horse neighed softly, tossing his head.

  With a shake of her head, she crossed the stall and rubbed the old horse’s muscled neck. “I know, it’s not your fault, boy.”

  He nudged her hand with his soft brown nose, sniffing for his treat.

  “I’m sorry, fella. Rain check this time.”

  Right now, she needed to find Matt.

  Chapter 16

  When Miranda arrived back at the tent, an army of people swarmed beneath the canvas. Repairs had been made, business was booming, and Matt was nowhere in sight. Impatience nagged at her as she searched the crowd.

  “There you are!” Jason emerged and tossed her a stethoscope.

  “Wait a minute—”

  “Sorry, no time.” Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her toward a small herd of sheep and gave a little shove. “Your kingdom awaits.”

  In less than two seconds, she was surrounded by the musty smell of wet wool. Eight sheep, all recently sheered and bathed, blocked any hope she had of escape. Left with little choice, she shelved her need to find Matt and reached for the nearest sheep. It bleated a friendly greeting when she scratched it between the ears.

  “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest?” She caressed its soft ears. “Where’s your owner? Hmm?”

  “Registering his flock with an intern,” said a familiar voice behind her.

  She whirled about with a gasp of relief.

  “Are you trying to worry me to death, Miranda?” Matt sounded annoyed as he reached over and pulled a blade of straw from her hair, narrowing his eyes on her.

  For expediency sake, she ignored his tone and cast a furtive glance around before whispering, “I have news.”

  He exhaled heavily and raked a hand through his hair, returning his neatly brushed mane back to its normal state of disarray. “When Letta said you left suddenly, I knew you were up to trouble.”

  “Hey, opportunity knocked and you weren’t around.” She could almost take offense at his lack of faith in her. “I answered.”

  His jaw remained rigid. “Under no circumstances are you to strike off on your own like that.”

  “You’ll change your mind when you hear what I discovered.”

  He practically growled. “You aren’t listening to me.”

  “More like the other way around,” she snapped back. “We need to talk.”

  His lips tightened into a flat line. If it weren’t for the crowd, he’d be scolding her to high heaven.

  “I saw Diana and that guy from the parking lot.”

  That finally got his attention. “The one that met Graham?”

  “Yes, and he—”

  “Ke kopa F-M-D, Ben-net.”

  Matt dropped his head for a frustrated second, then turned to the newcomer with a smile of welcome. “Meet Bheki,” Matt said to her. “He says his sheep need FMD. Know what that means?”

  “Of course,” she answered drolly. Though like Matt, she gave a friendly smile for the shepherd. “Hello, Bheki,” she said warmly.

  Clad in a sand color tunic roped at the waist, he looked the part of a movie-classic shepherd fresh from the desert. “Dumela, Doc-tor.”

  “Any foot-and-mouth disease in your herd?” she asked as she pulled on a pair of thin latex gloves.

  “Non, Doc-tor. These clean sheeps.”

  She nodded absently and reached for the first animal, but it skittered away from her touch. Like Mazey, it seemed agitated by the crowd.

  She tossed Matt a lab coat. “You’ve just been promoted to assistant.”

  “Oh, no,” he protested. “I’m not qualified for this kind of work.”

  “Consider it on-the-job training. It’s the best kind.”

  His eyes cut to the sheep and he hesitated.

  “Don’t tell me you were attacked by a crazed lamb, too?” she teased.

  He gave her a disgruntled glare. “Do your worst, Dr. Doolittle. I can handle whatever you throw my way.”

  With a satisfied grin, Miranda culled the first sheep from the group and steered her toward Matt. He stood there staring at it.

  “It’s easier to hold them if you’re at their level,” she said with a lift of her brow.

  With a resigned sigh, he dropped to his knees. She joined him there and donned her stethoscope. “Keep her distracted while I listen to her heart and lungs.”

  Matt gathered the animal’s rope close to the scruff and scratched her between the ears. Miranda immediately set to work.

  “So, Diana, the friendly librarian is involved,” Matt said under his breath. “Makes sense. The person monitoring Katanga’s records can hide a lot.”

  Miranda glanced over at Bheki, but he was talking to another and paid them no mind. “The first guy Diana met was named Neil.”

  “The first—” The sheep bleated in protest over Miranda’s exam, and Matt tightened his hold. “How many men were there?”

  “Just two.” Miranda continued her inspection, moving to the sheep’s teeth and gums. “But the second guy was much scarier.”

  “What were they doing?”

  “Diana met Neil outside the tent here, and I followed them to the stable.” She sifted through the medicines for a syringe of vaccine. “That’s where they met a man way too overdressed for a clandestine meeting in a barn.”

  “You get a clear visual? Can you identify him again?”

  “Neil, yes. The other guy, no. Mostly I just heard the meeting. I was hiding in a stall.”

  Matt groaned.

  She ignored it and held up the syringe of Aftovax. “Okay, hold her still. This might sting a little.”

  Matt wrapped his arms around the sheep just above the front shoulder, and during the sheep’s minor scuffle to get free, Miranda injected the vaccine. It was over in less than a minute. He grabbed the next animal in line, and they began the process again.

  “There’s a meeting tonight,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “Glory Hill.”

  As she checked the animal’s heartbeat, Matt frowned in thought. “There are several hills around here, but none named Glory. What else?”

  “The mystery man
said goods were available for display tonight at ten.” She lifted the sheep’s lip to inspect her teeth. “Oh, and he told them to bring some glass for verification. Know what that means?”

  “Glass is slang for diamonds.”

  “I know that,” she scoffed. “What it means is, we are running a reconnaissance mission tonight.”

  He immediately began shaking his head. “Not we. You aren’t getting involved.”

  Another injection, another sheep.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little late for protest?”

  “No.”

  “I know the risk I’m taking.” She peered inside the next sheep’s mouth.

  “No.”

  She didn’t bother arguing, just readied another injection and administered it. Matt traded the vaccinated sheep for another and resumed position on the ground with a brooding look meant to intimidate her into backing out.

  She understood his concern. Truly, she did. She’d never allow someone untrained to assist in a dangerous procedure. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. Africa’s animal conservation programs had a tenuous foothold. In the midst of the struggle, Katanga knew phenomenal success. There’s no way she’d stand by and watch it ruined by greed.

  “Please,” she begged. “Scold me later. We’ve work to do right now.”

  Amazingly enough, he complied, and they finished vaccinating the rest of the sheep under a temporary truce. In fact, things went so well that Miranda stretched out Matt’s apprenticeship. They saw a pregnant goat, a pot-bellied pig with chronic indigestion, and a Golden Labrador with a cut that required two stitches.

  Through it all, the heat of the day set in and she wiped her brow with her sleeve as she disinfected the exam table. Matt had returned the bandaged Labrador to his owner and stood talking to him as she cleaned up. She watched his easy banter, his absent-minded stroking of the dog’s head in comfort.

  Matt came chock full of surprises. Once their arguing ceased, he seemed to enjoy himself. He showed none of the usual awkwardness that came from inexperience. Instead, he maintained playful but firm control, always keeping the skittish patient in check. He connected with them on a fundamental level. A hard-edged detective with a soft spot for animals and a floodtide of natural talent. She was impressed. His fear of camels aside, he could’ve had a promising career in zoology.

  Countless hours she’d spent debating technique and swapping stories with her father. Passion for her work consumed her life and she never complained; it was an immensely satisfying and rewarding career.

  Yet how much more fulfilling could it be shared with someone equally enthusiastic? And not just someone in the business, like Hank Meadows, but someone who shared the same appreciation of animal life, who felt the spark of the Creator in their primal emotions and behavior?

  And if that startling realization weren’t enough, she suddenly woke to a possibility never before considered. She looked over to where Matt stood with their last patient. He still stroked the dog’s head as he shared a few words and laughter with the owner. He looked over then, and his easy smile held her spellbound. A realization shot home, nearly overwhelming her with its intensity.

  Beyond the memory of the wedding bonfire, the sensual dance, and a kiss that curled her toes, there lay possibility. It wrapped around her heart, only to squeeze with the crushing certainty that she must leave when the job ended. He’d leave too, once the trail of blood diamonds became exposed. The thought left her cold with disappointment in spite of the day’s heat.

  If she had any sense of self-preservation, she’d ignore her growing infatuation with Matt and concentrate on doing the work she came for. But it was much too late for that. Any better sense she had was lost the minute she had laid eyes on him.

  Her only remaining thread of sanity came from her desire to ensure Katanga stayed clear of fallout. That meant sticking close to Matt during the short weeks remaining in her contract. Future heartbreak was a risk she’d willingly take. Some things were just worth it, and he…umm, that was, Katanga, was one of them.

  Chapter 17

  “Bloody hell.” With a sharp twist, Matt closed his baggie of braai and dumped it back in the cooler.

  He knew she wouldn’t listen. He’d told her not to come and yet there she was, sneaking across the darkened parking lot like some underworld spy. He never met a more stubborn, troublesome, distracting—

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked as she jumped into the Land Rover.

  “Isn’t it rather obvious?”

  “Don’t you ever listen to what I say?”

  “Occasionally. But not this time.” She dropped her pack on the floorboard and settled in. “You may need back-up if you are planning on following Graham to Glory Hill.”

  “If I need back-up, I’ll call a trained officer.”

  She made a noise that sounded suspiciously close to a snort. “Don’t shortchange me. I have a wide range of skills.”

  He wouldn’t argue that point. In fact, he’d likely add intriguing, totally desirable, and impossible to ignore on that list of skills. He wanted her, and that could only lead to trouble. Already he found himself losing focus. As close as they were to busting this smuggling ring wide open, he worried she may get caught in the crossfire. “Did you see Graham before you left the clinic?”

  “About twenty minutes ago. He came out of the café and headed up the elevator. At least he’s smart enough to grab dinner. That’s more than I can say.”

  Matt pushed the LED display of his watch. Ten after eight. “It’s also more than he allowed the maintenance staff tonight. No one could leave until the tents were dismantled and the parking lot cleared. It was dark by the time most of them had headed out.”

  He reached back to his cooler and pulled out his stash of sliced salami, cheese, and crackers and spread it out on the seat between them. “Care to dine?”

  “You’re my favorite janitor, ever.” Miranda flashed him a happy smile and began piling up a cracker. “Have any spicy mustard?”

  “Never leave home without it.” He reached back over the seat and grabbed the little jar he’d bought at the farmer’s market.

  “You know, Graham’s a strange man,” she said as she dipped a plastic knife into the mustard. “On one hand, he seems to really care for Katanga and the work it does. On the other, he jeopardizes everything by smuggling. It doesn’t make sense.”

  She handed him the loaded cracker and started making another.

  “He’s not hard to figure out,” Matt said around a bite. “The man likes luxury, and Katanga provides a perfect cover for his illegal operation. He’ll protect it and keep it running to ensure his cash flow. The real surprise is Victor Keyes. Never the first breath of scandal attached to his name. With Katanga, he blends wild Africa with research and development, banking tourist dollars in the process. He’s practically a hero of the community. Why’s he involved?”

  She’d wolfed the first cracker and started piling up another. “Have you searched his office for clues again? I sort of interrupted your first attempt.”

  “I did.” He twisted open a bottle of water and handed it over. “Found nothing.”

  “How about Graham’s?”

  He shook his head. “Not able to get in. He locks it up tight.”

  “It didn’t stop you with Keyes’s office. What’s different?”

  “Security cameras.”

  “So visit it during normal working hours. Only he won’t be there because I’ll create a distraction. Maybe another unauthorized visit to the library. That will give you a chance—”

  “No.”

  “You’ve got a stubborn streak.” Her glare screamed annoyance. “Why won’t you accept help?”

  “Me, stubborn? What about you? I’ve told you over and over how dangerous these people are. And still you hide in stables and show up during stakeouts.”

  “I’ve helped your investigation. Admit it.”
r />   “I’ll admit nothing. You’re too curious for your own good, unpredictable, and inclined to rash acts. In short, a very real worry.”

  “But you like me anyhow.”

  She was driving him to the brink of insanity. He liked her all right. He liked her spunk, her nerve, even her dedication to work. That he understood. What worried him was the overwhelming desire to kiss her until she moaned in mindless surrender, the constant craving to feel her tighten around him in response to—

  “There’s Graham.”

  Damn it. Matt forced aside the lustful thoughts and reluctantly focused on Graham walking to his Lexus and climbing inside. Matt waited until he pulled out of the parking lot before firing up the Land Rover. He didn’t even try to get Miranda to leave before following. She wouldn’t listen, so why bother? At least if she was with him, she wasn’t causing trouble elsewhere.

  When Graham headed toward the downtown district, Matt gave him plenty of space as they negotiated what little traffic circulated this time of night. As Miranda wrapped up dinner and stashed it back in the cooler, they passed the farmers market, rounded the parliament building, and aimed due east, soon sliding into a part of town he had no business bringing Miranda into after dark.

  “Lock your door.”

  For once she did as he said. During daylight hours, this part of town did prosperous business, but at night, streetlamps illuminated a different sort of commerce. The weekend’s promise of cheap liquor and entertainment drew laborers, businessmen, and those making a living outside the law. That Graham had headed straight for this part of town revealed much.

  The black Lexus slowed down for a stop sign and hung a right without stopping. Matt lingered at the same traffic post to give him a bigger lead.

  A move he cursed when they rounded the corner and found no sign of the car. He slowed to a crawl. “Okay, my friend,” he whispered. “What hole did you crawl into?”

  At the next intersection he glanced both ways. No taillights.

  “Circle the block again,” Miranda said.

  His plan exactly. He wheeled around the darkened block and started creeping up the street once more.