“Naturally rare, difficult for my amazing sister to find even when she called in all her favors, and perfect for you. Camryn Ashley Everett, you are everything I have ever wanted, everything I never dreamed I could have. Will you marry me?”
She went to the floor beside him, kissing him with every ounce of love she'd harbored for so long before answering. “Yes!”
The ring was amazing. Set in platinum, the cushion shaped blue diamond was flanked with white diamonds and winked at her with a fire she'd only seen at the Smithsonian. “This is like the Hope.”
He nodded. “You're good. Fancy deep blue.”
“It's amazing.”
He kissed her softly. “So, it's obscene enough for you?”
“I was kidding,” she admitted. She hadn't even known something like this existed outside of a museum. Besides, she'd marry him with nothing.
“So, I can give it back to Taylor?” he asked, feigning a grab.
“Nope, it's mine. Forever.”
“You're mine forever now, too.”
“Likewise, Jamieson.”
Chapter Nine
The next few days went by without incident, and Brandon almost breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was his caseload relatively light, his relationship with Robin was fulfilling and something he'd never expected for himself. He chuckled at the thought. No one would ever peg him for the kind of man who could make Robin Weismann happy, but it looked like he might just be that man.
Tiffany Morgan came in to pull him from his strange musings. “What if it's her family?”
He blinked at the blonde. “What?”
“Sorry,” she apologized, realizing she'd started mid-thought. “What if the tracking devices are put there by her family? They have all been kidnapped in some form or fashion in the last few years. Why wouldn't, say, Mason Everett want to keep track of his sister?”
“That makes sense for one of the hidden apps,” he agreed, “but what about the other one? And the shooting?”
“I'm still working on that one. I think this is similar to the Haleigh Carlisle incidents where she wasn't the true target.”
“Never physically threatened, pushed into the custody of her chosen protector?”
She nodded, her shiny blonde ponytail bobbing with the motion. “Exactly.”
“We don't have a crazy ex-spy trying to pull strings on this one, Morgan.”
“Not that we know of, at least,” she agreed. “We've seen some weird shit in the last few years, especially when it involved the Everetts and Aylesford.”
He couldn't argue, so he changed the subject instead. “Your test is this week. You're gonna ace it.”
“Thanks,” she said, the set of her mouth telling him she was confused by his encouragement. “I'm ready to be a detective.”
This being supportive thing was new to him, but he was trying, much to his own bafflement. “You'll be heading up investigations instead of doing all the research,” he reminded her.
“I know, although we both know I'll still be doing the bulk of the research.”
She wasn't wrong, so he just smiled. “I believe Dylan Black says you have mojo.”
“That and contacts,” she agreed with another bob of her head.
The woman pulled people from the alphabets, finding things no one else could. A while ago he'd have assumed that was because she'd slept her way to those contacts, but he'd learned his lesson. She was competent and a true asset. He held in another laugh at himself. He was getting soft. “I'll contact Mason Everett, ask if he was tracking his sister.”
“Now, who killed Theo Richardson, and how does it tie to our singing Everett?”
“That's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.”
~*~
Chris looked at the velvet bag in his hand for the third time that afternoon. Taylor Jamieson had weighed the stones, given him a raised eyebrow look and didn't ask any questions. He should've already turned the diamonds over to the Feds, but Mia had nearly died because of the things, and he hadn't wanted to deal with them. For a fleeting moment, he thought of keeping a couple but gave himself a swift mental kick. He wasn't really entertaining the thought of keeping evidence, was he? He sighed. He was a good cop, a good guy, and if Tiffany was to be believed a good catch. He laughed. He wouldn't go that far, but he pulled out his phone to call his contact at the FBI, Agent Randi Kavanaugh.
“I think I've found the diamonds Martin Rehnquist hid,” he told her as soon as she answered.
“What?” she asked, “Where?”
“My sister's land,” he skipped the part where Mia had found them only a month or so after she woke from her coma, “buried in a horse paddock.”
“He swore only Haleigh could find them,” Kavanaugh replied. “But why else would you find diamonds buried in Virginia?”
He chuckled at that. “Gemma is Haleigh's friend, and Finnegan was watching Georgia, or at least waiting for her when I arrested him. At the same time, who the hell knows with Rehnquist? He manipulated Haleigh and nearly got her killed in the process.”
“I'll meet you in a couple hours to take them off your hands,” she told him. “How many are there, and are you certain they're real?”
This was it, the moment he could decide to be dirty. The choice wasn't hard. “There are twenty-eight. I had them verified by a gemologist here, Taylor Jamieson. They are diamonds, and she said—I hope I get this right—they are perfect glassies, weigh two-hundred-four-point-eight-two carats total, and are probably from Russia.”
“I don't know what any of that means, but we have placed him in Russia on multiple occasions.”
He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice when he replied, “Great.”
“Keep them safe, and I'll see you soon.”
He sighed, wondering how much money he had in his pocket, but agreed. “Of course.” He pulled his car into the spot at the Tyler PD. He had an appointment with Tiffany, and a theory to share.
~*~
“What do you mean, you could track me?” Cam yelled at her brother.
He gave her a look, his dark eyes hard. “You were in the city. I was worried about you.”
“That still doesn't give you the right to track me. I'm not in high school.”
Mason ran a hand through his hair. “No harm, no foul. I was worried, all right?” He gave Chris and Tiffany a look as if asking for support. “Besides, I wasn't the only one, and I'm not the one who sent someone to kill you.” He gave her a look, his brows forming a deep vee between them. “Someone tried to kill you.”
“We're not certain they wanted to kill her,” Chris interjected.
Tiffany nodded. “The bullet was very high in the glass from what we can ascertain. If the shooter had wanted to kill Camryn, he could have.”
“That's good, right?” She took Mason's hand. “I appreciate that you love me and want to watch out for me, but I'm grown.”
“People are still shooting at you.”
“Just the once.”
He sighed. “I've been shot at, and Dylan almost died to save me. You're in danger, and you have to be serious about this.”
Carter put himself between her and her brother. “She's protected.”
“I know you believe that,” Mason said, casting his gaze around the room. “But this family has thought we were safe before only to find we were wrong. Excuse me if I worry.”
Cam ran a hand over her curls. “I'm not angry you want me to be safe, but I need you to let me be an adult.”
A muscle in Mason's jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Look, we'll always worry, no matter if you're twenty-five or ninety-five. Just be smart, please? Promise me you won't take any risks.”
She could agree to that. “That I can do.”
Cam looked around the room, appreciating that everyone there wanted to protect her from whatever or whoever was after her. “Chris, you said you had a theory?”
The handsome detective nodded. “I did.” He gestured to her. “Obviously, Mason tracking yo
u isn't the issue. Instead, we need to focus on how there was another tracking application added. Tiffany says it hasn't been there long, so I need you to make a list of who might have had access to your phone in the last, say, three months.”
She still had no idea why the hell someone was interested in her comings and goings. She was not an interesting person unless someone wanted money. That halted her thoughts cold. “If someone kept track of me, do you think they might have wanted to grab me for ransom?”
“It has crossed our mind,” Tiffany answered. “You are a wealthy woman, and now you're engaged to an even more wealthy man.” She nodded at the blue diamond on Cam's left hand. “You've got, what, a few million on your finger?”
She fought the urge to look ashamed. “Something like that.” Truthfully, she didn't know how much her ring was worth, or even exactly how many carats it was, but she wasn't going to apologize for the success of the Everetts and Jamiesons. “I'd never been worried about kidnapping, at least not until all my siblings were kidnapped one way or another in the last few years. I figure it's my turn.”
“Don't say that,” Mason growled.
At the same time, Carter wrapped her in his arms, whispering, “Not on my watch, Lark.”
“It's a very real possibility though,” Chris interrupted. “We can't provide a detail, but I'm certain your families can.”
“Already done,” Carter and Mason replied simultaneously.
“A princess in an ivory tower,” she murmured. “I promised Tabitha I would work with her to get ready for summer stock. There's only a month before school's out, and she asked for my help.”
“You won't be locked in a cage, Lark,” Carter promised. “Besides, Tabitha could come to the house, couldn't she?”
“Did you install a dance floor and buy a piano when I wasn't looking?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’m happy to make that happen for you.”
Of course, he would just build her whatever she wanted. She sighed. “We were planning to do it at school—” she started.
“Do it at the studio,” Mason cut her off. “Hell, Kat's been dying to get you on staff.”
“And Dylan has that place locked up tighter than Fort Knox,” Chris agreed. “You do what you need to do, but you do it carefully.”
“We need that list of people, and you have to remember that it could be someone you think is your friend,” Tiffany reminded her. “We're not saying don't live your life, but we are telling you to be aware. And, stay the hell away from Club Bleu.”
She didn't really want to go to the club, but she had to ask. “Why?”
“It's a crime scene for one, and we've investigated it for a few things over the years,” Tiffany answered.
“Do your thing, teach classes at Dance With Me, write a play, sit around and eat bon-bons, it really doesn't matter, but please, stay safe,” Chris continued.
To hear a plea like that from a detective, even if he was a friend of the family, hit her hard. “I will.”
~*~
“Jamieson,” Carter answered his phone a few days later after the call was buzzed through.
“I assume you are counsel for Ms. Camryn Everett?” the voice asked. At his affirmative answer, the man continued, “This is Benjamin Massey. I represent the estate of Mr. Theodore Richardson. Ms. Everett is named in the will to inherit the establishment, Club Bleu.”
Carter stopped himself from sounding as surprised as he felt when he asked, “What about Simon?”
Massey ignored the question. “I'll need you both to come down tomorrow to my office at eleven tomorrow morning to discuss it with the surviving Mr. Richardson per the deceased Mr. Richardson's will,” he gave the address before hanging up.
Carter called his assistant, Abby into the office to rearrange his schedule for the next day, and contemplated whether to call Chris or Tiffany first when his phone rang again.
“Do you need me to answer it first?” Abby asked, her young cheeks coloring.
He fought the urge to laugh, knowing it would just embarrass her further. “Jamieson.”
“Brandon wants you and Camryn to come into Tyler PD as soon as you can,” Tiffany relayed. “We have a few questions and a few things to share.”
“I was just about to call you,” he replied truthfully. “I just got a call from Theo Richardson's attorney. Guess who inherited the club?”
“Since he called you, I'm gonna say, Cam?”
“Make the woman a detective,” he said with a laugh. “I'll swing by and pick Camryn up in an hour or so, and we'll head in.”
“You promise she's the last Everett?” she asked on a chuckle.
He understood her question, even if he bristled at the comment. “Yeah, but there are a lot of Jamiesons.”
“True, but you live in Aylesford and a lot of other places.”
He chuckled. “We'll see you in a while.” He replaced the receiver and looked up to see Abby marking things off the planner in her hand.
“I'll have Mathison handle the Abed case, and Jimenez can take over your deposition later today.”
She might be right out of college, but she was efficient. “Perfect. Just move or reassign whatever you can and cancel everything else. I'll be out of the office for the week unless there's an emergency.”
“Do you love her?” Abby asked without looking up from her old-school paper planner.
It was not an appropriate question, but he answered it anyway. “Irrevocably.”
He swore he saw her shoulders slump for a second before she straightened to face him. “I've got you covered, Mr. Jamieson,” she promised with a thin smile.
“Thank you, Abby. I don't know what I'd do without you.” He'd had no idea his assistant was interested in him or his personal life but filed it away to mention to the police once he collected Cam and made it to Tyler. He was taking no chances.
~*~
“Wait. Why would Theo leave the club to me?” Cam asked once Carter had relayed the phone call and the rest of the morning to her.
“We'll find out tomorrow,” he answered as they made their way to the car. “Right now, we need to get to Tyler PD to meet with Tiffany and Davis.”
She stopped to run her fingers over the sleek Jaguar. “Did she say why?”
“Not really, no. We'll know in fifteen minutes though, so long as you get your perfect ass in the car.”
She smiled at his comment, but it did nothing to quell the fear in her belly. They were summoned to the police, and that could not be a good thing. Unsure of herself, she slid into the car and began to hum a warm-up tune. Singing had always calmed her before, surely it would now.
Once they parked at the station, she waited for Carter to open her door and followed him in.
“We're here to see Detective Davis and Officer Morgan, we're Carter Jamieson and Camryn Everett,” he told the woman at the desk, his deep voice soothing to her even as he said things she didn't particularly like.
“Right around the corner, they're expecting you.”
As soon as they went around the corner and into the office she assumed was Detective Davis's, she couldn't keep herself from asking, “So, what was so important we had to come down?”
Three pairs of eyes jerked to her, but it was Tiffany who finally spoke. “I think you were being tracked by a student, or maybe a teacher. It seems the app was installed right when you started working on the play.”
“A student?”
“There were a few boys infatuated with you, Lark,” Carter pointed out. “Your gangsters especially.”
“They're just kids,” she protested.
“No, they're not. They're at least sixteen years old.”
“And now I'm supposed to give you the names of those boys. They couldn't have shot at us. They were inside the school.”
“We were some of the last ones out. If you don't give the names, I will.” Carter's jaw was hard, the hand on her back stiff.
She sighed. “Fine.” She paused. “Holden Graves
and Andy—Andrew—Marshall.”
“I'd add Tabitha Fontaine to that list,” Carter added. “She has some serious hero worship going on.”
“Tabi would never do anything to hurt me,” she protested.
Carter gave her a hard look before he said, “Please also check up on my assistant, Abigail Reed.” He slid his hand up under her hair to cup her neck before he went on, “I have never been involved nor shown any interest in her, but today I had a strange feeling when I told her to move my appointments around to accommodate Camryn.”
“And, what the hell, Lisa Pescatelli practically threw herself at him, too,” she added.
Tiffany seemed to be holding back a laugh when she said, “A rich, good-looking man always garners more than his share of interest. I hope it's nothing like your brother.”
“God, no,” she agreed with a shudder. The idea of someone drugging and kidnapping Carter like Priscilla had Mason made her sick to her stomach.
“Anyone else?” Brandon Davis asked.
“Evidently, Cam is set to inherit Club Bleu, Carter offered. “We don't know any details yet, but the attorney handling the estate called me this morning to ask we come to his office tomorrow at eleven.”
“It that normal?” Davis asked.
“For a contract employee to inherit an establishment?” Carter asked, the question deliberately obtuse.
Davis shook his head at her gorgeous attorney fiancé. “You know what I was asking.” He rubbed his nose. “For the attorney to tell you the inheritance before the official reading of the will?”
This time it was Carter who shook his head. “Reading of the will is something made up for television and movies.” He paused, “But, no, this whole situation is abnormal, and asking that Camryn come in to discuss the will with Simon makes me more than a little uneasy.”
“There's no way Simon killed Theo!” she blurted. Things like that only happened on Game of Thrones.
“No one is suggesting that,” Tiffany replied. “Yet.”
That answer made her stomach churn. “Oh my God. What if Simon killed Theo?” she asked, tears pricking at her lashes. “We're supposed to meet with him tomorrow morning.”
“No one is going to kill you, Lark.”
Ache For Me Page 8
