“It’s not that I don’t want you to come,” J.T. said, “but for the moment you need to stay hidden away. There are too many people looking for you. I’ll only be gone an hour -- tops. You can do some research on the diamond. The time will fly by.”
“Sure,” she said, lacking conviction. “It will fly by.”
He took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes. “I know you’re scared, Christina. I also know that you’re brave and strong.”
“How could you possibly think that?” she murmured. “It seems I’ve done nothing but run for my life since I met you. That’s more cowardly than brave.”
“Hey, a strategic retreat is always good in a battle.” He kissed her on the lips, his mouth lingering. “When I get back we’ll have dessert.”
“Fine. But if you’re not back in exactly two hours, I’m eating the cake by myself,” she warned.
“Then I will definitely not be late,” he promised. “Lock the door behind me, and don’t open it for anyone. Not room service wanting to take the plates -- no one. And if someone tries to get in, call the front desk immediately.”
His words did nothing to ease her rapidly growing tension. Nor did the fact that he’d slipped his gun into the pocket of his jacket. Two people were dead. She did not want to make it three. She got up, putting her hand on his arm. “Be careful, J.T. I really...don’t want to eat that cake alone.” It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but he knew what she meant. She gave him a pleading kiss to come back alive, then let him go, locking the door after him.
* * *
Evan picked the lock with a quick and steady hand. A moment later he opened the door to Marcus Alberti’s house and paused to get his bearings. The house was spotless, as if no one had lived there in a long time. It was the kind of family house he’d always wanted for himself. As he put his hand on the sleek wood banister of the elegant staircase, he remembered the dreams he’d had as a kid living in the backseat of a car with his drunk of a mother. He’d always imagined owning a real house with a banister you could slide down, with dinner waiting on the table at six o’clock, with a father who came home carrying a newspaper, and a mother who spent her days cooking and taking care of the kids -- instead of boozing and doing drugs and beating the shit out of her offspring.
He frowned, not sure why she was coming into his brain so often now. He’d put his mother out of his mind years ago. He’d banished her into nonexistence, which was where she belonged. She never should have been born, and certainly never should have had children. His two sisters had been the lucky ones. They’d been taken away and sent to foster homes.
No one had wanted him. He was too old, too bruised, too wrecked -- by her. God, he hated her. And every woman like her. Every woman who thought she was better than him, who thought he owed her. Like Nicole. The bitch had deserved to die. He wouldn’t have killed her if she hadn’t attacked him. It was her fault she was dead. It was his mother’s fault that she was dead. The world was better off without them. He hadn’t committed murder; he’d provided a public service.
He walked down the hall and entered the study. There were books everywhere; it was the room of an intellectual man. He paused by the desk, picking up a photograph of Marcus and his precious daughter, Christina, taken at her college graduation. She was wearing her cap and gown and looking so damn proud of herself. The Albertis probably thought they were smarter than him. But they weren’t.
They’d just surprised him, that was all. He hadn’t anticipated that Marcus would actually steal the diamond. When Nicole had suggested they contact Marcus and lure him back to the city because he would make a good scapegoat, it had seemed like the perfect plan. Nicole had assured him that Marcus would never be an actual threat because he wouldn’t do anything to put his daughter in jeopardy again. It would go against his nature not to protect his child. Evan had believed her. Marcus had taken the bait. They’d been able to get his voice on tape and a sample of his handwriting, as well as his e-mail address. Everything was going like clockwork.
Until Marcus decided to steal the diamond before they did. So much for his paternal instincts.
Evan didn’t know how Marcus had pulled it off. The only answer was that Christina had helped him. How ironic.
Evan had set the Albertis up to take a fall for something they hadn’t done, when in fact they’d actually done it. The knowledge burned through his gut. They might have outplayed him this time, but they wouldn’t possess the diamond for long. He would find Marcus and get it back. Now that he knew the kind of man he was dealing with, he would be better prepared. Having Nicole as a partner had clouded his brain, kept him from realizing there was someone else in the game. That wouldn’t happen again. He worked better alone.
The only question was -- where the fuck were they? Obviously not here.
With a rush of impotent rage, he began yanking books off the shelf. He would destroy this perfect little family house first, and then he would destroy them.
* * *
It was remarkably easy to get into Stefano Benedetti’s room at the Crestmoor Hotel, located at the top of Nob Hill. J.T. had simply flashed his badge and his smile at the female assistant night manager, and told her he needed to make sure Stefano Benedetti was all right after the disturbing robbery earlier that day. Since the theft at Barclay’s was all over the news, she was more than happy to help. She escorted him straight up to the sixth floor and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she slipped in her master key and allowed him to enter the room. “Thanks, I’ll take it from here,” he told her.
She looked disappointed but nodded and shut the door behind her.
J.T. wasn’t surprised that Evan hadn’t checked out of the hotel. That would involve paying the bill, and no doubt there was a stolen credit card on the account, probably the real Benedetti’s card. Since that man was on a boat in the middle of the ocean, he probably wasn’t following his credit card statements.
J.T. walked across the room and opened the closet. Several expensive suits hung on hangers as well as dress shirts and ties on the tie rack. The rest of the room was neat. He checked the bathroom and found the usual men’s cologne, toothpaste, dental floss. At least Evan was taking care of his teeth.
Returning to the bedroom, he checked the bureau. In the bottom drawer he found some curious items: a flashlight that attached to a hard hat, a large white coverall that a construction worker or janitor might wear, a screwdriver and other assorted tools. Why had Evan needed all the hardware?
He sat back on his heels, considering the situation. Evan must have used the uniform to get into Barclay’s, but J.T. didn’t recall seeing anyone wearing such gear. Evan had to have also used the uniform to get out of Barclay’s. But how? Even in a uniform, he would have been searched for the diamond.
There had to be another way in and out of Barclay’s. J.T. leaned forward, digging deeper into the drawer. His fingers curled around a piece of paper. He pulled it out and was shocked to see his name scribbled across the front. He unfolded the paper. It was yellowed and obviously old. It appeared to be a blueprint, a diagram of what looked like an underground network of tunnels under the city. The streets bordered Barclay’s Auction House, he realized, and the tunnels ran right under the building. Evan must have used the tunnels to get out of Barclay’s with the diamond.
Was that where Evan was hiding now?
He could check out the tunnels, but since Evan had left the map behind with his name on it, he doubted there would be anything else to find. In fact, he suspected Evan wanted to send him on a wild-goose chase. That wasn’t going to happen. In the long run, it didn’t matter how Evan had escaped. J.T. couldn’t worry about the last play. He had to concentrate on the next one. And there would be a next move, because Evan hadn’t won. He didn’t have the real diamond, and until he did, the game was still on.
* * *
Christina watched the clock turn to the next number. The two hours since J.T. had left had passed with interminable slowness. She w
as giving him three more minutes and then she was eating the cake. The only problem was...she was not remotely hungry. She shifted on the bed, settling herself more comfortably on the pillows, her back against the headboard, J.T.’s computer on her lap. She’d spent the past two hours researching yellow diamonds and had come up with several stones, but none that matched the Benedetti diamond. It was as if it had never existed. Only she knew that it was real. She’d seen it, held it, worn it. She’d felt it tingle against her skin.
Reaching for her purse, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed her father’s cell phone number -- the one he’d given her for emergencies. She didn’t expect him to answer, and he didn’t. But she was desperate, and she had to try something. “Dad, it’s me. I got the note you left in the safe. You have to tell me where you are, or where you’re going. I’m in trouble. Everyone at Barclay’s thinks I took the diamond or helped you steal it. Please just call me.” She hung up the phone and let out a sigh.
The clock flipped over another digit.
She shoved the computer off her lap and stood up, moving resolutely toward the table. She picked up a fork and eyed the enormous piece of chocolate cake. “Looks like it’s you and me.” She cut off a chunk of cake. It was halfway to her mouth when she heard a knock at the door, followed by J.T.’s voice.
She set the fork down, then ran over to the door and turned the dead bolt. “You’re late,” she said as he stepped into the room. “Where have you been? What did you find out? Did you run into Evan? Are you all right?”
He put up a hand, his smile reassuring her that at least he was fine. The other answers she could wait for.
“One question at a time,” he said. “I promise I’ll tell you everything.” He walked over to the bed and pulled his gun out of his jacket, setting it down on the dresser.
She sat down cross-legged on the bed in the middle of the comforter, waiting for him to explain. Finally he sat down. “Here’s what I figured out. Evan escaped through an old aborted transit tunnel, one of several that run under the city. A long time ago there was a master plan for an extensive subway system that went beyond the scope of the current system, but too many earthquakes put an end to that grand scheme. However, a lot of the tunnels had already been started, and one ended right under Barclay’s in a basement area near the garbage, an area that was not covered by a security camera.”
“That’s why you never saw Stefano leave on the security tapes,” she said.
“Exactly. He knew he couldn’t just walk out of the auction house with the stone in his pocket. There was no way he could have pulled it off without an escape route.”
“Okay, so we know how he got away. What’s next?” She didn’t see how the information brought them any closer to catching Evan. Unless... “Do you think he’s hiding in those tunnels?”
“No. He’s too crafty to live on the street. He could easily pickpocket someone’s credit card and get himself a hotel room somewhere.”
“Is that it?”
His eyes narrowed. “I take it you’re not impressed.”
“We still don’t know where Evan is or where my father is,” she said in frustration.
“Did you have any luck tracing the diamond?” he asked.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “I’m completely stumped. There’s no mention of the Benedetti diamond anywhere on the Internet, and I couldn’t find any other stones that matched the diamond’s measurements or colors or flaws or anything.” She flopped backward on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I hope the card you’re using for this hotel room has a big credit limit, because we might be here awhile.”
He scooted down the bed, stretching out next to her. He moved a strand of hair away from her forehead and gazed into her eyes. “We’ll get the answers we need. Don’t worry.”
“How can I not worry? I just saw a preview of the late-night news on TV. A reporter was standing outside of Barclay’s announcing they’d have news on a suspect at eleven. What if they point the public finger at me?”
“They don’t have any proof, Christina.”
“I tried to check my e-mail. My account was closed.”
He frowned. “That wasn’t a good idea. There might be a way to trace the Internet path back to us.”
“I didn’t even think of that. God! I feel so out of my league.”
“That’s why we’re in this together.”
“For the moment. You’re supposed to report to your office in LA tomorrow or turn me in,” she reminded him. “What’s going to happen if you don’t do either one?”
“I’m sure I’ll be suspended, put on probation, maybe fired, depending on how long it takes me to bring Evan down.”
He spoke pragmatically, but she could hear the underlying concern in his voice.
“It’s your job, your future, your life. Maybe you should think twice about it all, J.T.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, tracing her cheekbone.
“I’m trying to tell you that I would understand if you said you had to go to LA tomorrow. However, I have to admit that I would prefer you leave without turning me in.”
He gave her a half smile at that. “I’m not leaving you. And I have other plans for tomorrow.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What plans?”
“The best way to figure out where someone is going is to look at where they’ve been.”
She sent him a questioning look. “Are you going to explain? Because my brain is too tired for riddles.”
“It seems obvious to me that if your father is taking the diamond back to where it belongs, then he’s no longer in the city. And if the Benedettis had the diamond, then it’s a good chance that the stone originated--”
“In Italy,” she said with a rush of excitement. She sat up so abruptly, she butted him in the head.
“Ouch,” he said, rubbing his temple.
“Sorry. Are you saying you want to go to Italy?”
“To Florence, yes -- to visit the Benedettis. They’re the only ones, besides your father and Evan, who could possibly know where that stone came from.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Are you serious? Can I leave the country -- just like that?”
“If you do it fast,” he replied with a dry smile. “Since you were standing in full view of the security cameras when the diamond was stolen, it’s going to take some time to build enough of a case to get sufficient cause to bring you in -- especially if they can’t find you. I called the airlines. There’s a flight tomorrow at nine a.m. I think we should be on it.”
“Are you sure? Think about it, J.T. You’re taking a huge risk by leaving the country with me. Your goal is to catch Evan, isn’t it? Do you even care that much about the diamond? About finding my father? About any of it -- except Evan?”
“I care about the diamond because Evan cares about it,” J.T. said bluntly. “Finding that stone will lead me to him. He may not have it now, but you can bet he’s looking for it.”
“Unless he doesn’t know he has a fake,” she pointed out. “We aren’t certain he does.”
“You’re right. We don’t know that for sure. But my gut tells me that Evan probably had a buyer lined up for the stone, someone who would be able to tell if it was a fake or not. Maybe that person was Nicole Prescott. And she’s dead -- which is a sign of something. Either Evan was done with her, or there was an unexpected glitch in their plans.”
“Like a fake diamond.”
“Yes. Evan knew enough about your father to set him up. If he figures out that he has a fake, it won’t take that big a leap for him to conclude that your father has the real diamond. I think the trail leads to Florence. The real question is, who is going to find your father first, Evan -- or us?”
“It had better be us,” she said, afraid for her father. She might be angry with him, but she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. And Evan seemed to have no qualms about committing murder.
J.T. nodded. “So are you with me?”
“I’m with you.”
“Now that we have that settled, how about some dessert?”
“I must admit the chocolate cake looks really good now.”
He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down on the bed. “I wasn’t talking about cake,” he said with a wicked grin that sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.
“You don’t really think your kiss is going to make me want you instead of that chocolate cake, do you?” she teased, her heart already feeling lighter now that they had a plan of action.
“I’m going to give it one hell of a try, sweetheart.”
Chapter Fifteen
Evan had known Christina would return to her apartment. It was just a matter of time. It wasn’t his usual choice to spend the night in a car, but he hadn’t wanted to take a chance on missing her.
She’d come in the dusky light before dawn, probably hoping to avoid notice. The police were looking for her -- he’d seen several patrol cars go by in the past few hours -- but she wasn’t a big enough fish, nor was it a heinous enough crime to put her apartment under twenty-four-hour surveillance. She was being careful, though. So was J.T. They’d hid out somewhere the night before; he’d checked J.T.’s hotel room as well.
But they were here now. Christina parked her car in a space directly in front of her building. J.T. pulled in behind her. Evan had figured that J.T. would be with her. He loved to play the protector, the defender of justice, the pursuer of the truth, especially when a beautiful woman was watching. When they were in college J.T. had always been the big man on campus, the star quarterback, the guy with the girls. But he wasn’t such a superstar now. He was in big trouble, aiding and abetting a thief, Evan thought with a smile.
He considered confronting them in Christina’s apartment. He was impatient to get the diamond, to rectify his mistakes, to reestablish his superiority. But he was too smart to make an impatient blunder. Christina didn’t have what he wanted -- the diamond. He would have to be patient, let her lead him to it. And she would; he was convinced of that.
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