The Undercover Bridesmaid

by Kimberley Montpetit

  “It appears as though you’re babysitting me.”

  “I’m the one with the security clearance.”

  “Ouch,” Chloe said drily. “Way to rub it in.”

  “Hey, I’m not trying to do that at all,” Liam said, glancing sideways at their driver. “I’m in charge of the case. Need to check all the boxes on my case report.”

  “Just like you did with our last job together? When you were team leader and Jenna died? I never did see that final report.”

  Liam winced at her harsh words. “That’s because you turned in your badge,” he told her quietly. “It was classified, and you no longer had access to it.”

  “If you recall, I spent that week with Jenna in the hospital.” Chloe paused, placing a deliberate finger to her chin in a sarcastic gesture. “No, you weren’t aware, since you never came to visit her—your own team member—while she lay fighting for her life.”

  A wave of emotion hit her unexpectedly, and Chloe had to bite at her lips to keep her watery eyes from spilling over. This was the reason she quit the FBI. She couldn’t handle the devastating loss, especially after Liam’s negligence. The man she had been falling in love with all during the previous year.

  “Chloe, please,” Liam pleaded. “Can we have this conversation somewhere private?”

  Turning away to gaze out the window, Chloe fought for composure.

  Liam continued, his voice low and rough. “Emotions always run high and charged during a raid, and that was one of the worst tragedies I’ve ever been part of.”

  Chloe let out a sharp laugh, angered by his woefully insufficient response. She whipped around to glare at him. “Jenna’s death was more than just a ‘tragedy.’ It was catastrophic. Life-changing. Do you know how difficult it is to keep in touch with my best friend’s mother and younger sister? Jenna was their life, their hero. Every time I see the pain of Jenna’s death in their eyes, I want to jump off a cliff from the guilt.”

  Liam’s eyes were fastened to hers, his gaze not leaving her face. She recognized a sudden sorrow welling up in his expression, the muscles of his own face twitching, but she wouldn’t give in to any empathy for him.

  “And despite the past horror,” she added, “here I am, agreeing to do another job with you. I must be a glutton for punishment.” Chloe wanted to spit a curse word at him, but swallowed it down and tried to regain what was left of her composure. “How much further is it? I’m toying with the idea of jumping out of the car.”

  Before Chloe could blink, Liam lunged across the seat and grasped her hand. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that again. If you ever purposely hurt yourself, I’ll go insane, Chloe Romano.”

  A rush of warmth from his hand flooded over her and rushed up her arm, burning a hole in her chest. Slowly extricating her hand from his, she said, “Please don’t touch me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Liam said. He blew out a breath and leaned back against the seat to stare at the car’s ceiling. A moment later, he looked forward again. “We’re here.”

  The driver pulled up in front of a nondescript office, and Chloe gratefully exited the car, Liam following close behind.

  Just before they reached the entrance doors, Chloe turned to him. “Why aren’t you being trained in diamond detection? Why can’t you do this job? Why me?”

  A small smile crossed his full lips and Chloe forced herself to glance away. She had to ignore how much she used to want to kiss those lips a year ago. She and Liam had never once kissed each other despite spending time together in their off hours.

  It was against the rules to fraternize with members of the same training teams—worse if a team leader got romantically involved with one of the newbie recruits.

  “Like I mentioned yesterday, it would be so much more suspicious to both your family and the Westerfield family if I was lurking inside the house and seen going in and out of Max Romano’s office where the safe is located. We want the potential thief to let down his guard. For him to think there isn’t any risk to attempt a jewelry swap. You’re the perfect person. No questions will be asked about a cousin as a bridesmaid. You can go anywhere, do anything without raising suspicion.”

  She nodded, trying her best not to look at him any longer so she could brush off the lingering effects of his alluring pull on her. “Right,” she said briefly.

  “And now, let me introduce you to Jim Greene, our gemstone expert. I have another appointment right now. I’ll be in touch later.”

  If I deign to answer the phone when I see your number on my caller ID, Chloe thought while shaking hands with Mr. Greene and exchanging pleasantries. He was shorter than she was and unassuming with a shock of tousled black hair and coke-bottle glasses perched on his nose.

  Within two minutes, Liam had disappeared, and she was sitting at a work table next to Mr. Greene while he showed her the tools of the trade.

  “The most difficult aspect of diamond authentication that you do not have to worry about is determining a value—or price—for the jewelry. That’s the part that can confound a new diamond trainee. Muddy the waters, so to speak. All you’re going to do is verify that the stones you are inspecting are indeed diamonds—or fakes.”

  “Got it,” Chloe said.

  “This small bag of lights and magnifying tools is yours to take with you.” He handed her a small black bag about the size of two open palms. “Go ahead and open it. We’re going to go through each step.”

  “Will I have trouble taking the bag with me on the airplane?”

  “None at all. They’re benign tools for any gemstone seller or buyer. You have two different magnifying glasses, two different power lights, as well as a loupe.”

  Chloe noted that the light looked similar to a small flashlight.

  “The lights will help you look straight through the entire stone to see the flaws and cut angles. The loupe is the most valuable tool you have in your arsenal. It will easily allow you to detect real diamonds from cubic zirconia, for instance.”

  Jim Greene helped Chloe fit the loupe to her eye and showed her how to hold it and do adjustments on the lenses while inspecting a stone.

  On the opposite side of the loupe, which stuck out from her eye like a telescope, he snapped on the light. “This one is easiest to use since it allows you to use both hands to hold the stones and position the light directly into the diamond.”

  Chloe nodded. “That’s helpful. How hard is it to tell if a stone is actually cubic zirconia?”

  Mr. Greene smiled. “Not hard at all, actually, despite how well they’re made. You’ll be able to see the difference right away. Your biggest problem will be if someone is trying to pass off a stone called moissanite, which often fools diamond experts.”

  “How will I be able to determine the difference, then?”

  “You are going to map out the diamonds when they first arrive from Davis Jewelers. As soon as they reach their destination at the safe, you’ll inspect them and create your map. Meaning that you’ll know exactly what each stone looks like, how many imperfections there are, and the difference in the internal angles and cuts of the stone.”

  “I’ve heard that a true diamond will sink to the bottom of a glass of water while fake stones float,” Chloe said. “I did a little bit of reading last night in preparation for our meeting today.”

  “Good, good,” Jim said approvingly. “Just like an experienced agent.”

  “I also read that a heated diamond will crack in a glass of cold water. But the diamonds I’ll be inspecting will be set in twenty-four-carat gold. Of course, the gold will make them sink.”

  “You’re correct. I actually have a brother-in-law who works for the Davis Jewelry company. They have stores all over the country and Europe. Alan sent me pictures of the jewelry and a map of each diamond.”

  Chloe raised her eyebrows, pleased that this job didn’t seem as difficult as she’d feared. “That’s convenient.”

  “Hey, we’re FBI,” Jim said with a quick grin. “We get our hands on al
l kinds of things. That’s one reason I became a gemstone expert. Because of my brother-in-law. So, it’s really not a coincidence. I was assigned to your training because of the case Agent Esposito is working.”

  “Makes sense. The bureau is always on top of things with the best people,” she said tightly.

  “You also have a special UV light in your packet. That will test the refractivity—the ‘sparkle’ and ‘fire’ the stones give off under the light. On individual stones, an amateur could use the fog test. After breathing on the stones, you can see how quickly the fog disappears. A real diamond disperses the fog immediately. Or, holding a diamond on top of a newspaper, you won’t be able to read the words underneath.”

  “Why is that?”

  Mr. Greene grinned. “Because diamonds refract light so spectacularly, you can’t see through them at all. I forgot to mention that the UV light I gave you will make a real diamond look blue. Not so with fakes or cubic zirconia.”

  “There are a lot of methods for determining authenticity—more than I thought.”

  “Thankfully so, especially when we’re talking about half a million dollars in stones.”

  “That kind of money makes me dizzy.”

  “It’s actually not that much for renting a complete wedding set. I once saw a diamond necklace that was intricately set with forty carats, including a yellow diamond, which is very rare. That one piece alone was worth more than two hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Guess my uncle is a cheapskate,” Chloe said, laughing.

  “High-end jewelers rent out jewelry all the time, so a wedding set is not unusual.”

  “My father will have a security detail about the property, too. We should be fine during the wedding weekend.”

  “I’m sure that’s helpful in making Davis Jewelry feel more secure. And don’t forget, jewelers insure their stones well.”

  The next two hours were spent practicing Chloe’s ability to spot genuine diamonds from imitations. It didn’t really take very long to spot the differences under the special loupe light.

  Jim had an array of gemstones for her to experiment on, as well going over the tiny details in mapping out the stones she’d inspect the following weekend.

  “There are definitely different angles between a real diamond and a cubic zirconia,” Chloe mused. “I didn’t realize that the imperfections can be anywhere within a stone.”

  “Exactly. That’s why you will map out the jewelry, making notes and creating sketches on the actual diamonds so that if there is ever anything out of place, you’ll spot it immediately. Here’s my business card and private number. Please call if you have any questions during your assignment,” he said.

  Chloe pocketed the card and then wrapped the tools in soft cloths to return to the bag. She glanced at her phone and was shocked to see that over four hours had gone by with only a brief break. “I had no idea it was so late. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. You caught on quickly, and you were identifying the stones faster and faster.”

  “That’s good to know. Thank you so much, Jim.”

  After bidding him goodbye, Chloe exited the building to the parking lot. The same car was waiting to return her to her apartment. She glanced about, wondering if Liam was going to accompany her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Of course, she didn’t need a chaperone or a chauffeur, but it bothered her that a twinge of disappointment ran through her at not seeing him again. Perhaps their encounters yesterday and today were the only ones they’d have during this operation. That was that. She’d never see Liam again. So why did her throat grow thick with an ache she couldn’t define?

  Shaking her head, Chloe forced herself to banish the sentimental thoughts from her mind.

  Chapter 7

  Three days later, it was pouring rain under a blanket of heavy black clouds when Chloe landed at Ronald Reagan Washington National airport.

  Thankfully, she was prepared with an umbrella, but her hair had an antagonistic relationship with the extra humidity. Using that expensive straightener before she left home had been a waste of time.

  Just before landing, she had spotted the FBI Quantico complex from the airplane window where she had spent those many months training to become an agent. Seeing it now after all this time brought a wash of bittersweet emotions.

  Would she ever be able to resolve the memories she and Jenna had created there? Including the memories with Liam Esposito?

  Unfortunately, the second she walked off the plane and over the jet bridge, curls were frizzing around her neckline. By the time Chloe retrieved her luggage, she looked like a dandelion.

  The Washington D.C. airport was packed with tourists and politicians. Congress was in session every day this month, and yet the autumn season was still as hot as Hades.

  Thank goodness her parents weren’t arriving until Friday afternoon, just in time for the rehearsal dinner. Diana Romano had one of her adoption center fundraisers tomorrow, and Dad was always doing governor “things.” Endless meetings, fighting with the state legislators, fundraising for his next campaign, cutting ribbons for new businesses and schools.

  Lugging an oversized suitcase in each hand, Chloe was startled to read her name written in black marker on a placard at the bottom of the escalator. A young woman who looked like she was barely out of high school was holding it, smiling brightly, her hair in a perky ponytail the color of the red maple leaves turning color on the nearby hills.

  She’d assumed Mercedes would meet her, and Chloe had a moment of disappointment. She and her cousin had a thousand details to go over about her wedding. Not the least of which was her FBI “assignment.”

  “I’m Chloe Romano,” she said to the girl, a question in her voice while she pointed a finger at her name on the placard.

  “Oh, Miss Romano, my name is Katey Higgins. I recognized you right away from the picture Miss Romano showed me. I’m her assistant, and I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  Chloe blinked. “Her assistant? She doesn’t hold office yet, does she?”

  “Not yet, but one never knows, does one?”

  Chloe suppressed a laugh at the girl’s choice of words. She was perfect for Mercedes. “No, one does not,” she replied, holding back a smile. She didn’t want Katey to think she was laughing at her. “What do you assist her with?”

  “Well, a hundred years ago, young women like Mercedes Romano had personal maids. Think of me as a modern-day personal maid.”

  “So, you help her get dressed, tighten her corset, button up her boots?” Chloe was joking, but it appeared as though Katey was taking her question seriously.

  “Mostly I help her with her estate sale business. I keep her books, make hundreds of phone calls, pay bills, run her personal errands, pick up dry cleaning. That sort of thing. Sometimes I’m needed to help her dress for elegant evening events. I can create a fabulous chignon and ringlets.”

  “Sounds full-time,” Chloe said facetiously.

  “Oh, it is,” Katey said earnestly. “Miss Romano leads an exciting life. To work for her while she’s getting married is thrilling.”

  “In more ways than one,” Chloe agreed.

  “Miss Romano, the baggage area is down this escalator. Please follow me.” Katey picked up one of Chloe’s bags and jumped onto the moving stairs.

  Chloe kept pace. “It’s going to be difficult to call both me and Mercedes Miss Romano, so why don’t you just call me Chloe. After all, I’m just the bridesmaid.”

  “There is no such thing as just a bridesmaid, Miss—I mean, Chloe.” Katey swallowed as if it was difficult to get her first name out. “A good bridesmaid is worth her weight in gold.”

  “Did Mercedes tell you that?”

  Katey blushed. “She was so distraught after losing her other bridesmaids. You are a true lifesaver.”

  Chloe smiled at the young woman’s exuberance. “She’s got a talent for twisting arms. How long have you worked for h
er?”

  “I started over the summer.” Just before they reached the luggage carousels for United Airlines, she leaned in conspiratorially. “Is Chloe your real name? Miss Mercedes told me you do this for a living. That you’re an undercover bridesmaid.”

  “You must have misunderstood. I’m just Chloe Romano. Mercedes’s actual blood-by-birth cousin.”

  “Oh, I was hoping to hear some good gossipy stories.”

  “I’ve been in a lot of weddings for friends. You know the saying, ‘Always a bridesmaid, never a bride’?”

  “That doesn’t describe you. You’re so pretty, Miss Romano—I mean, Chloe!”

  “Unfortunately, I’m in need of a shower. I thought the hot humid summer would have already ended up here. This is so much further north than Charleston.”

  “The weather is playing tricks on us this October. Miss Romano hoped it would be cooling off. Especially since the reception is going to be in her parents’ backyard.”

  “At least it will be evening, right? No bright, hot sun for glare in the pictures.”

  “Exactly!” Katey exclaimed when the automatic doors shut behind them as they exited the baggage claim area.

  A car was already waiting for them at the curb.

  Thirty minutes later they’d left the hustle and bustle of historic and political D.C. with its tourists and the Smithsonian.

  When they drove through McLean, Virginia, the neighborhoods of stately homes sitting on large wooded lots brought back a rush of childhood memories to Chloe’s mind.

  The homes were palatial, and Chloe had forgotten just how posh and impressive this area was.

  “It’s been a long time,” Chloe murmured when they arrived at the Romano mansion. She only saw her extended family at the beach during family reunions so it had been at least five years since she’d been at her uncle’s house.

  Last year, everybody had traveled to Boca Raton, Florida, for her grandfather’s funeral, where he and Granny Zaida had retired a decade earlier.

  The car purred as the driver pulled through an impressive set of stone gates and drove up the long drive, circling around to the wide veranda and front doors. A moment later, he cut the engine and smoothly exited the driver’s door to unload the luggage.