Providence p-1

by Jamie McGuire

  “Good morning. I am Vincent! You like diamonds? Sapphires? Rubies? Emeralds? Semi-precious stones? I have them all,” he gushed with a thick accent.

  Jared squeezed my hand and introduced himself. “This is Nina…I’m Jared.”

  Vincent didn’t skip a beat. “I’d be happy to help you with anything you need.” He paused to look at our hands intertwined and smiled. “Could I interest you in our exquisite line of engagement diamonds? I designed most of these,” he said, pointing out a long row of extravagant rings. “I can design one customary, if you wish.”

  Jared looked at me with a soft expression, and then reluctantly turned his attention back to Vincent. “Not yet.”

  Vincent smiled at me, and I felt the blood rise to the surface of my cheeks. “Ah, well, then. Another time.”

  “You are the owner?” Jared asked.

  Vincent chuckled, patting his protruding belly. “I am. Thirty-six years, now.”

  Jared raised my hand, resting it on the surface of the glass encasement. “Do you recognize this ring?”

  Vincent leaned down to get a better look. “Yes…yes…,” he hummed, elongating the words. “It has been awhile, has it not?” he asked, looking to me.

  “My father purchased this from you three years ago,” I reminded him.

  Vincent lifted my hand and angled it several different ways, proudly watching it sparkle in the bright lights above.

  “Your father was a man of vision,” he said, smiling in approval.

  Jared slid the receipt in front of Vincent. “This paper includes an engraving fee.”

  “Yes, yes. I remember,” he said, pinching his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t ask questions, you know. I just make the customer happy.”

  “But…there is no engraving on the ring,” I said.

  He bellowed out a cheerful laugh. “There is, kisa. But it’s hidden, you see.” Vincent opened his hand, prompting me to give him my ring.

  I sighed and looked to Jared, who offered a comforting smile. He took my hand and slowly pulled the ring off of my finger. Once Jared placed it in his hand, Vincent turned the ring upside down.

  “He had it marked into the pavilion of the stone. The underbelly,” he explained, “very tiny…I had to send it away to a gentleman I know with a laser. I don’t have one of those here, of course,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

  “The engraving order has been covered. Do you have the original receipt?” Jared asked.

  “No, no. I would have total in my books, only. If I remember correctly, it was letters and numbers. Gibberish that only made sense to your father, I assume.”

  It seemed to be too easy. I felt I was in the middle of a cloak and dagger movie, happening upon the perfect clues at the perfect time, watching it come together in front of my eyes.

  Jared tucked my hair behind my ear with an apologetic expression. “Vincent?” His eyes were hesitant to leave mine. “Can you remove the stone from the setting?”

  I jerked my ring from Vincent’s open hand. “No!”

  Jared pulled me out of ear shot. “Nina, if you want to see what Jack had put on this ring — and what Grahm wanted — we have to remove it from the setting to read it. He can reset it as if it were never touched.”

  I pressed my lips together in frustration. We would have to see what was etched into the stone to make progress, and there was only one way to do it.

  “There’s no other way?” I asked, knowing the answer.

  Jared shook his head and opened his hand. I placed my ring in his palm and chewed on my lip.

  “Can you do it?” he asked, setting the ring on the glass.

  Vincent’s eyes moved from Jared to me, unsure of how to proceed. “I could remove the stone, but there is no guarantee we will be able to read what is there, you see what I say?”

  Jared nodded. “Remove the stone.”

  Vincent seemed suddenly disinclined. “It will be a few days before I can get to it. Write down your number and I will call you when—”

  “I realize you’re busy, forgive me,” Jared said, pulling out his wallet. He set a small stack of hundred dollar bills on the glass, and Vincent’s eyes widened, jerking his head back up to Jared. “That is in addition to your fee, of course,” Jared added.

  “You wait here…I’ll be just a moment.” Vincent gestured for us to sit on a short couch by the door, and then hurried to the back.

  We waited together on the couch. A strange calm came over me, and I sighed when Jared began lightly caressing the top of my hand.

  My eyebrows pulled in and my smile faded. “Jared?”

  “Yes?” he said, playing with the strands of hair that had escaped my ponytail.

  “Vincent called me kisa. It doesn’t mean ‘stupid’ or anything, does it?”

  Jared burst into laughter. “No, sweetheart. I would never let anyone insult you that way.”

  “What does it mean?”

  Jared kissed my forehead. “It’s Russian. It means kitten.”

  “Oh. That’s a relief.”

  The minutes ticked by and I became increasingly anxious. I began pacing, and Jared watched me walk the length of the floor. A door shut behind me, and I flipped around. Vincent cupped the remnants of my ring in his plump hand.

  Jared stood up and joined me at the display case. “Did you find anything?” he asked.

  Vincent flattened a piece of paper in front of us with letters and numbers scribbled across it. He handed Jared a loupe and held out his hand for Jared to take the stone from his palm. Jared looked through the loupe at the stone, but pulled it away from his eyes, shaking his head.

  “I can’t see anything,” he said, holding the peridot in front of him. Jared periodically looked down to the paper and back at the gem, placing it back into Vincent’s palm.

  “You could see that without the loupe, eh?” Vincent chuckled. “These old eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

  Jared took the paper and handed it to me. “What he has written is what is inscribed in the stone.” He looked to Vincent, then. “I’ll need that reset immediately, please.”

  Vincent nodded and returned to the back, taking the pieces of the ring with him.

  “Now what?” I asked, looking down at the paper.

  825 2TR2TL223TR05

  “Does it mean anything to you?” Jared asked, grimacing in thought.

  “Eight twenty-five is my birthday…August twenty-fifth, but other than that…no.”

  Within ten minutes, Vincent had returned. I sighed as I slid it back to its rightful place on my finger, looking exactly the same as it did before.

  We returned to Jared’s loft for lunch. I sat on the counter staring at the piece of paper, hoping the answer would spontaneously pop into my mind.

  “It’s going to catch fire if you keep staring at it like that,” Jared teased, pushing the stir fry around in the wok.

  “He put it on something he knew would be safe, the last place anyone would look, that he always knew where it would be….”

  “He hid it in plain sight,” Jared nodded. “The question is how did Grahm figure it out?”

  I scanned the floor in deep thought. “I don’t know. Maybe an old associate of my father’s?”

  Jared shook his head. “Jack engraved a code to something that everyone wants and put it on his only daughter’s finger. He wouldn’t risk telling anyone about it.”

  I sighed in frustration. “The eight twenty-five is separate from the other numbers. Think that means something?”

  Jared shrugged. “It could. It could just be meant to signify your birthday. It could be an area code, or a flight number…some type of location?”

  I thought about the safe in my mother’s office, the files it contained, the photos…I couldn’t make a connection with anything we’d looked over to the number. Shoving myself off the counter, I slammed the paper on the table and walked to the couch, falling over the arm onto my back with a frustrated cry.

  “Nina,”
Jared said, his voice beside me, “we’ll figure this out. Try not to make yourself sick over it.”

  “There’s nothing in the safe; I’ve already poured over my father’s office and searched all of his cabinets, there’s nothing!” I covered my face with my hands.

  Jared kneeled beside me and pulled my hands away from my eyes. “We’ll go back tomorrow, look in Jack’s office and take another look at the files in the safe. Why don’t we rent a movie, hang out on the couch…spend some time together?”

  “Ugh,” I said, sitting up. “Did I put Jack’s keys in his drawer? I don’t think I did. What did I do with them?” I asked, patting my pants pockets.

  Jared grinned. “They’re in my jacket pocket. We can take them back tomorrow.”

  I sat for a moment, my eyes unfocused, deep in thought.

  Jared touched my shoulder. “Nina?”

  I scrambled to the coat rack and shoved my hands in his jacket pockets. “They’re not here!”

  Jared eyed me warily. “They’re in the inside pocket. What’s going on?”

  “Eight twenty-five!” I yanked the ring of keys from his jacket and thumbed through them. When I found what I was looking for, I held it away from the rest, showing it to Jared. “See? Eight twenty-five!”

  Jared looked at the key and then back at me, his eyes animated. “What does it open?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, looking at the key, “but it can’t be a coincidence, right?”

  “I doubt it,” Jared said, his face twisting into a frown.

  “What?”

  Jared took the keys from me. “I want you to let me take care of this. I’ve humored you. You’re upset about the way Jack died, I get it. But things could go downhill pretty quickly if we find what they’re looking for. I don’t want you anywhere near me when they figure out what we’ve done.”

  “You’ve humored me?” I asked, insulted. “I’m not going to get in your way, I almost have this figured out, I….”

  “Did you listen to a thing I’ve said?” he snapped. After a brief moment, Jared closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know you need this to be over. You just don’t understand what we’re dealing with, here. I can’t let my emotions get in the way of my job, Nina. I’ve already let this go too far. God knows the last thing I want is for you to be angry with me, but you’ve got to let me handle this.”

  “But—,”

  “No, Nina. It’s too dangerous,” he said firmly.

  My eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t asking permission.”

  “This isn’t about me telling you what to do. This is about your safety.” He hugged me to him and I reached for the keys, pulling them from his grip. I knew that if he hadn’t allowed me to do it, I would never have gotten the keys from his hand. I hoped that meant a part of him wanted my help.

  “I’m going to take another look at Jack’s office.”

  I turned to open the door, but I was frozen. Jared held me by my waist. Before I could protest, he exhaled a long, resigned sigh.

  “Give me a minute. I’ll go with you,” he said, obviously annoyed.

  I waited at the door until Jared finished packing our lunch, and then he grabbed my hand on the way out.

  Half-way to my parents’ home he still hadn’t spoken.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, placing my hand on his. “I don’t want you to be mad, but this is something I need to do.”

  Jared sighed. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m beginning to regret telling you anything.”

  Those words stung me. “I don’t want to get hurt, either. We won’t have to keep looking over our shoulders if we end this. We can just live our lives normally. Together.”

  Jared squeezed my hand as he pulled into the drive.

  On a rug in Cynthia’s office I thumbed through papers, looking for anything with numbers. I highlighted anything with an eight, two, or five anywhere near each other.

  Two and a half hours later, I had several piles of papers, and nothing that included the numbers we were looking for. I sat up straight to stretch my aching back.

  “Let’s take a break,” Jared said. He pulled the highlighter from my fingers and handed me the plastic container with my lunch sealed inside.

  I stretched my legs over Jared’s lap and chewed happily on his amazing stir fry, marveling at what an exceptional cook he was. Jared pulled off my boot and began rubbing my foot, and I leaned my head back.

  “This is taking forever,” I groaned.

  “We could call it a day. I could take you out to dinner,” he offered.

  I frowned. “You’re not taking this very seriously.”

  Jared let out one shocked puff of air. “On the contrary, I think I’m taking this more seriously than you are. You don’t seem to understand how dangerous this is for you.”

  “What could happen to me? My boyfriend also happens to be my guardian angel,” I said, leaning over to kiss him.

  “What in the hell is going on here?”

  I looked over to the door where Cynthia stood, her hands on her hips.

  “Hello, Mother,” I said. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

  “So is this search and seizure or burglary?” she said, crossing her arms.

  “It’s good to see you, too,” I said, rolling my eyes in response. “We’re trying to find something with an eight twenty-five on it.”

  “Eight twenty-five?” Cynthia asked, looking at Jared, who stopped chewing for a moment under her glare.

  He swallowed the lump of food in his mouth before giving report. “I intercepted Dawson. They’re finished with the pleasantries, Mrs. Grey. They want the evidence Jack collected on them and they think Nina knows where it is.”

  “I wonder why that is, Jared? It couldn’t be because they’ve seen you two together.”

  “It’s possible,” Jared replied, impervious.

  “What does Charles Dawson have to do with the number?” Cynthia asked, closing in on the mess on the floor.

  “He doesn’t,” Jared said dismissively, looking over the papers again. I was a little surprised by his impassive attitude at Cynthia’s presence when just over a week ago he balked at just the mention of being in the same room with her.

  Cynthia seemed to accept his ambiguity, probably because she was used to being left in the dark by my father. “I trust you’ll take care of Mr. Dawson, Jared. That simply won’t do.”

  “It’s already been taken care of, Mrs. Grey.”

  Cynthia nodded in approval. I was shocked that she spoke so candidly of violence.

  “Keep me updated,” she said, walking out the door.

  “That was weird,” I said, shaking my head.

  Jared looked up from the paper. “What, sweetheart?”

  “She threatened to fire you a few days ago if you didn’t stay away from me. You quit speaking to me because of it. And just now you nearly ignored her.”

  Jared shrugged. “My mother discussed it with her. She’s had a change of heart.”

  “How so?” I asked, suspicious.

  “Lillian’s very persuasive,” Jared smiled.

  “Nina?” I turned to see my mother round the corner again.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re leaving for Nicaragua a week from Sunday. I need you to meet me here early so we can be at the airport by nine. Jared?”

  “I’ll have everything ready,” Jared said, distracted by the paper in his hand.

  My heart began to pound, causing Jared to look up. I realized that I was going to spend the entire week of Spring Break on a beach with him, and the thought made my cheeks flush red.

  Jared smiled, guessing what made my heart flutter. “This might be your first vacation with me, but it’s not my first vacation with you.”

  “It’s the first time you’ll sit with me on the plane,” I said a bit too eager, grinning from ear to ear. Jared chuckled at my enthusiasm.

  Cynthia’s reaction differed. “He’s there to work, Nina. Please keep that in mi
nd. Jared, make sure she is here on time.”

  “Yes, ma’m,” he said, his soft eyes never leaving mine.

  With that, Cynthia disappeared once again.

  I couldn’t help but think about lying in a hammock with Jared. It already seemed like heaven.

  “I am suddenly looking forward to vacation,” I grinned.

  Jared leaned over to touch my cheek. “Lying with you on a Caribbean beach at sunset? I’ll have to remind myself that it’s real.”

  “What will you have ready?” I asked.

  Jared’s attention turned to the paper he was holding once more, and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t make eye contact when he spoke. “Uh…all of my surveillance supplies. We typically bring about fifteen hundred pounds of tech with us, but with Claire going to Tahoe, I’ll be carrying light. I’ll set up a perimeter around the premises….”

  “What is it?” I leaned over to see what he was so absorbed in and recognized it was a bank statement. I’d seen it several times before during my search, but set it aside in the scrap pile.

  Jared pointed to a section of the statement and I gasped. It was a monthly charge for a safety deposit box. Box eight twenty-five.

  “Jared!” I cried, grabbing his arm.

  Jared looked at his watch. “The bank is closed.”

  I sighed, deflated. “We’ll go first thing Monday morning.”

  “I’ll go. You have class.”

  I grimaced. “I’m going, Jared. We’re doing this together.”

  He sighed as we gathered the piles of papers and photos and replaced them. Jared lifted the plant as if it were an empty cardboard box and returned it to its proper place.

  My cell phone buzzed in my coat pocket. The display lit up with Kim’s name scrolling across the screen, and I closed my eyes. “I bet she’s calling about the pub tonight. I forgot all about it.”

  “Hey Kim.”

  “You’re not backing out, Nigh. Don’t even try,” she said.

  “I wasn’t going to, I….”

  “Sure you weren’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Kim. I forgot,” I said, rubbing my forehead with my fingers, feeling a stress headache coming on. “But I’ll be there.”