She nodded, confident he was telling the truth, but finding it difficult to talk while caught in the depths of his brown eyes.
“Good.” He leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “So you understand why I want you to stay safely at home when I go see this pawnbroker?”
She found her focus again. “No.”
“Janet—”
“No. It’s my problem, and I’m not handing it over to you to take care of. You have to take me with you.”
He sighed. “I don’t want to argue with you—”
“Then don’t.”
“—but you can’t make me take you, either.”
She studied him for several seconds, then dug into her purse for the keys to her rental car. “Just in case I lose you, that was a side street just off Evergreen and Fenkell, right?”
Rocky’s jaw muscle twitched as he clenched his teeth harder. “Okay, you win.”
She smiled sweetly and put the keys away. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “I hope I don’t regret this.”
“Not a chance.” She flashed a smile. “I’m good company.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Yes, you are. And just remember while we’re visiting the sleazy, scuzzy fence that I had something way more fun in mind.”
Desire shot through her again. The intense look he gave her before starting the car left no doubt about what sort of fun he’d had planned. If she hadn’t guessed from his kiss last night, he’d just confirmed that she’d opened a door he’d been waiting behind for too long. There would be no more harmless flirting and cute allusions to sex; he meant to have the real thing.
She smiled to herself. Chances were good he was going to get it.
They passed the pawnshop, turned around, and parked halfway up the block on the opposite side of the street. Rocky made no move to get out of the car.
“What are we waiting for?”
“I don’t like to walk in without knowing who might already be in there. So we watch for a bit.”
She looked over at the door with the scratched gold lettering. “Lost and Found Treasures.” Fancy name for a dull gray building. The barred front window showed an array of digital cameras, video recorders, and TVs, all looking surprisingly new. “Looks like a small-scale Radio Shack.”
“It should. A lot of this stuff probably came from there. Or was meant to end up there, before it was stolen off the truck. I mean, before it was lost. Nice euphemism.”
He was right; this was a world she knew nothing about.
A minute later a thin black woman walked out of the store. Five minutes after that a white teenager slouched through the door, stayed less than a minute, and slouched out again. They waited another seven minutes, but no one went in or out.
“Okay, let’s go.” He paused with his hand on the door handle. “Just so we’re clear, I do the talking.”
“No problem. I’m here to watch and learn.”
He gave a cynical laugh. “There’s a scary thought.”
He took her hand as they crossed the street and held it as they walked into Lost and Found Treasures. It felt protective, something she was glad for when an angry buzzer sounded and the door closed behind her with a suspicious click.
They were in a jail cell. The next thing to it, anyway. The space was no bigger than her bedroom, maybe twelve feet on each side, with the barred front window at her back and another in front of her that looked like the betting window at a race track. Sudden claustrophobia made her chest ache with the effort to breathe. Or maybe it was just the heavy haze of cigarette smoke.
“Is this what all pawnshops are like?” she whispered to Rocky.
“No.” His gaze was wandering as much as hers, skimming the merchandise. “This guy must deal with some crazy people.”
Tall display cases covered the walls on each side, with more barred glass protecting shelves crowded with watches and small electronic items. There were more than a hundred watches, she guessed, and dozens of cell phones and MP3 players. Her gaze darted across the glittering array until a deep voice startled her.
“Help ya?”
Rocky stepped closer to the caged window where a young man stood. Janet stared at his narrow, pale face. His hair was pulled into a stringy ponytail at his collar, long enough that she couldn’t see the end. His arms were heavily tattooed and nicotine-yellowed fingers held a burning cigarette. This open violation of the law against smoking in places of business was probably insignificant compared to what else went on here.
The man’s light blue eyes scanned Rocky, then lingered on Janet with interest. She could almost feel shutters banging closed inside her, as if attempting to protect her from something dirty and unpleasant.
“I’m looking for some jewelry,” Rocky said.
The young man’s gaze dragged back to him. “Got lots of that. What kind?”
“Some particular pieces that you don’t have. But you did. You sold one to a friend of mine, and I’m looking to buy the rest of them.”
The man’s face grew cautious. “If I don’t have ’em, I don’t have ’em. Why you asking me? You a cop?”
“Not even close. My name’s Rocky Hernandez. Mean anything to you?”
“No.” He took a long draw on the cigarette and let his gaze run over Janet again, long enough to make the back of her neck prickle. “Should it?”
“Ask around. I used to work this area.”
When Rocky didn’t say anything else, the guy squinted at him. “So? What do I care?”
“Go ahead. Do it now. I’ll wait.”
She knew it was a contest of wills. Rocky was un-yielding and the guy was either curious or bored. After another lengthy look at her, he said, “Wait here.” He disappeared around a corner.
Janet slipped her hand from Rocky’s, more comfortable now that the sleazy guy was gone. She looked around the room as they waited. “Isn’t he afraid we’ll take something? Smash the glass and take off?”
“The door locked behind us and there are probably at least two cameras on you. He’ll be watching the monitors while he makes his calls.”
The casual way he said it made her look back at him, wondering how dangerous his other life had been. She knew the worry showed on her face and knew he was wishing he’d followed his instincts and never brought her here. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she said, “They didn’t cover this job at career day.”
He smiled, causing the happy skip in her chest that seemed to have become her conditioned response. “Life’s full of missed opportunities.”
“Isn’t it?” Her words were drowned out by a keening whine.
They exchanged puzzled looks, then peered over the ledge into the caged-in area that the man had recently vacated. Another whine ended with a metallic rattle as a kenneled puppy caught their eyes, its tail banging against its cage in a happy wag.
Janet smiled at the German shepherd. It couldn’t be more than ten weeks old, with one big ear standing up and the other flopped over. “Hey, pup. You’re a cutie, aren’t you?”
The puppy yipped and squirmed.
She laughed, then sobered as the pale man returned, scowling at her. “Don’t talk to the dog. He ain’t no pet.”
She frowned at him, annoyed at the way the puppy slunk back when he passed. “Then what is he?”
“He’s a guard dog. Will be, anyway, soon as he’s trained. So don’t go baby-talkin’ him.” Before she could respond, he looked at Rocky and said, “Show me your back.”
To her surprise Rocky turned his back to the window and raised the white polo shirt that said “Red Rose Security” on the front, pulling it to shoulder level. On the back of his well-defined right shoulder, she saw what Sleazy had evidently been expecting—a tattoo of three jagged lines in red and black resembling claw marks. Deep ones. They were simultaneously chilling and compelling. Something tempted her to reach out and touch them, to stroke her hand over Rocky’s broad back, to reassure herself with the flex and ripple of intact muscle
beneath her hand.
“Okay,” Sleazy grunted. “You’re him.”
Rocky lowered his shirt, tucking it into his pants as he turned back to face the window. Stepping closer, he nodded toward the door where they’d come in. “Is that door locked?”
“Yeah.” Sleazy sounded cautious, but Janet didn’t know if it was because of what he’d just learned on the phone, or because Rocky’s voice had gone low and rough.
“Good. I’m going to tell you a story now, and I want you to just listen. Because it might save your life. You understand?”
Janet grew still, fascinated by the change in Rocky. His voice had a hard edge, and even his stance looked tougher. He was tense and poised, a picture of barely restrained energy, ready to rip through the bars of the window if Sleazy answered incorrectly.
Even with the bars between them and the gun that undoubtedly lay within reach beneath the counter, the slight man looked intimidated by Rocky. The hand holding his cigarette trembled when he took a long drag, although that could have been from his general unhealthy condition. Smoke rose from his mouth and nose as he spoke, as if betraying a fire that slowly ate at his insides. “Why would you want to save my life?”
“I don’t. It’s just a benefit of following my advice, if you’re smart enough to take it.” He gave Sleazy a few seconds to contemplate life and death. “You sold a necklace to a man last year, part of a collection of jewelry called the Pellinni Jewels. I’m sure you didn’t know that at the time. I’m also sure you’ve heard of it by now.”
Janet knew Rocky hadn’t been positive they’d come to the right fence, the one who had sold the necklace to Banner, but when Sleazy didn’t deny the connection she released a shaky breath. It must be him.
“Someone’s looking for those pieces now.”
Sleazy shrugged. “Someone’s always looking for the good pieces. To steal ’em, or buy ’em.”
Rocky nodded. “These pieces were a little more important than other pieces. And the guy looking for them is anxious to find them. See, the guy you sold the necklace to gave it to this lady here.” They both looked at Janet. “And now someone has torn up her house and her car, looking for the rest of the collection.”
“Tough luck.” It wasn’t much as sympathy went.
“Yeah. For you, too, once they realize she doesn’t have them. Because you did, and that means maybe you still do.”
Anger touched his face, drawing his eyebrows down. “You better not be tellin’ people that. ’Cause I don’t have them, either.”
“Like you said, tough luck. ’Cause I don’t intend to let this lady get hurt for something she doesn’t have. You can see why I need to find the rest of the jewelry.”
He blew smoke forcefully to the side. “You ain’t listenin’. I said I don’t have them.”
“Then tell me who does. I’ll get them back, and if you checked me out you know that’s not an empty promise. Then both you and the lady here avoid the not-so-nice people who are looking for them. I’d be doing you a favor.”
Sleazy turned up the corner of his lip, giving them a glimpse of yellow teeth. “You can’t do nothin’ for me. I sold ’em all to the same guy.”
Janet opened her mouth. Rocky made a small motion with his hand to shush whatever protest she was about to make. She bit her cheek and let him talk.
“He doesn’t have them,” he told Sleazy, keeping his cool better than she would have.
The guy shrugged. “Can’t help you, then. Find out what bitch he gave them to. Or who he sold them to. Probably the same people he sold the diamonds to.”
Rocky leaned close to the bars and gave the guy a hard look through narrowed eyes. Janet thought for sure he was going to jump all over the guy for implying that Banner gave the jewelry to another woman. “What diamonds?” His voice snapped with tension.
“The ones with the jewelry. That’s what the guy wanted, mostly. Diamonds. No settings, ya know what I mean?” He took another disdainful puff while he waited to see if Rocky was too dumb to know what he meant.
Rocky’s jaw muscle jumped so much she was surprised she couldn’t hear his molars grinding. “How many diamonds?”
“That time? Not too many, ’cause of the jewelry. Sixty or seventy-K, maybe.”
Seventy thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds, in addition to the Pellinni Jewels? Janet knew her mouth had dropped open. Banner must have been in deeper shit than anyone realized if he was laundering that kind of money.
“That time?” Rocky repeated.
“Did business with him three or four times. Money for diamonds.” He showed his teeth again. “It ain’t illegal. You can’t prove I did nothin’ illegal.”
“I don’t have to, pal. The people who are after the jewelry don’t care about laws. And the ones who got the diamonds . . . well, let’s just hope they got everything they were supposed to get, or they’ll be looking for the rest. You know what I mean?”
His harsh question purposely echoed Sleazy’s sullen one, with a whole lot more menace implied. Sleazy didn’t like it.
“I told you, I ain’t got the jewelry. The guy bought all of it. You should be askin’ him.”
“Apparently you don’t follow the news. He’s in jail, most likely heading for prison, and he’s not coming out in your lifetime.”
“Shit.” Janet didn’t know which part Sleazy found upsetting—that he might become a target for someone looking for the jewels, or that he’d lost any chance of future business deals with Banner. “But I still ain’t got the rest.”
Rocky didn’t look like he believed him. “How many pieces did you have?”
“Five, including the necklace.”
At least that part was right. Rocky glanced her way, a quick puzzled look. She shook her head to indicate she didn’t know anything about the other pieces of jewelry. If he’d had the other pieces, Banner must have given them away.
Her mind snagged on the possibilities. If he hadn’t given them to her, had they gone to the Colombians as part of the money laundering scheme? Or had there been someone else, as Sleazy implied? A mistress? She’d never had reason to think so, but their marriage had been brief and she really hadn’t known him that well. She certainly hadn’t seen the murdering, drug running, money laundering side of him. Why not a mistress?
The idea didn’t even bother her, proving how little attachment she had to Banner. The only problem with that theory was that his sex drive hadn’t been high, certainly not high enough to keep two young women satisfied. Heck, he hadn’t even satisfied her all that well. Unless that was why, because two women were such a drain on his libido.
She gave herself a mental shake, scattering all speculation on Banner’s sex life. She was getting sidetracked by something that didn’t concern her anymore. All she cared about was finding the jewelry and getting whoever was after it off her trail.
“Here’s a hot tip for you,” Rocky told Sleazy. “Until the rest of the Pellinni Jewels show up, I’d suggest you watch your back.”
“Yeah? I thought you were going to save my life.”
“Turns out you’re too dumb to save. If you can’t tell me where the rest of the jewelry is, I can’t help you.”
“I told you—”
“Yeah, the guy bought all of them. And I’m telling you he doesn’t have them. So I’m still looking. But in the meantime, I’d be careful if I were you, because someone else is looking, and they’ve got a real mean disposition.” He nodded toward the dog kennel on the floor. “You’d better hope Bruno there grows up real fast.”
Sleazy ground his butt out in an ashtray. “Thanks for nothin’. And his name’s Adolf, as in Hitler.”
Rocky gave him a sick smile. “Cute. Open the door, we’re done.”
A buzzer signaled that the front door was unlocked, and Rocky ushered Janet through. She stepped onto the sidewalk with relief. Even the noise and exhaust fumes of Detroit’s streets felt clean after the unpleasant atmosphere inside Lost and Found Treasures. She felt dirty enough
to take a scrub brush to her skin.
“Ick,” she said, shuddering as she walked.
“That sums it up nicely.” His frown lines eased away. “But at least we learned how Banner was laundering most of the drug money—he was exchanging it for diamonds. Makes sense. They’re easy to transfer to his Colombian connection, and easy for them to smuggle out of the country.”
“Oh!” She laughed abruptly as the facts clicked in her head. “I know how he did it!”
Rocky stopped. “How?”
“He had these souvenir golf balls, commemorating the Westfield-Benton Charity Tournament. I just found them yesterday when I was at the office. They’re hollow. They’re too small to hold ornate jewelry, but if you stuffed them with cotton, you could put a fortune in diamonds inside one of those and never even hear it rattle.”
Rocky nodded. “Clever.”
“It’s just too bad they were all empty. I’ll bet those Colombians are looking for a gold golf ball full of diamonds.”
“Our sleazy pawnshop owner better hope they don’t come here looking for them.”
Talking about him made her feel dirty all over again. “I should call the ASPCA. That man has no business owning a puppy.”
“I like the way you think.” He put an arm around her, pulling her close as they walked back to the car. Even in the growing heat of the day, it felt good to be so close to him. He squeezed her shoulder. “And while we’re on the subject, I like the way you smile, I like the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh, and I like the way you wear that little gold chain on your ankle all summer long.”
She suddenly forgot all about the slimy pawnshop. She looked down to where the hem of her jeans brushed her foot just above her tennis shoe, wondering when he’d noticed the chain that didn’t show right now. “You do?”
“Oh, yeah. And if it matters, I like that little blue top with the white flowers on it that you wore last summer. I’m looking forward to seeing that one again.”
“Blue top?” She gave him a puzzled look as he opened the car door, waiting while she slid in. Even if he was one of those rare guys who noticed what women wore, they’d hardly seen each other last summer because he and Ellie were busy starting up Red Rose Security. He must have her mixed up with some other woman. “I don’t remember—oh, wait, I know which one you mean. The halter top with the cute crisscross lacing in back.” Amazed that he’d remembered it, she mused, “I wonder where I put that?”
Thieves Like Us Page 11
