TheCrystal

by Sandra Cox

  Christopher’s lips twitched and he began to cough. Since he’d sat down next to her, she reached over and gave him a slap on the back hard enough to send him reeling.

  “Thank you,” he said dryly.

  She smiled sweetly. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Sherry regained the floor, “And where did you say you were from, Miss…”

  “Bell. And I’m from Springfield, Illinois, home of Abraham Lincoln.” She gave a false bright smile.

  “Oh, yes. The heretic that destroyed our beloved South.”

  “Only if you are into bondage. Are you Ms. Favis?”

  And so the rest of the meal went.

  By the time the orchestra returned Christopher had had enough. He threw down his linen napkin, stood up and held out his hand to Gabriella. “Come,” he commanded.

  “I haven’t finish eating,” she protested around a mouthful of shrimp.

  “Gabriella,” he said softly.

  Gabby, whom her father described as balky as a mule, never ever did what she was told to do when commanded. But there was just something about the glitter in Christopher’s eyes and the set of his jaw.

  With a sigh, she put down her fork and stood up.

  “It’s been amusing everyone.”

  Several of the men looked at Christopher mutinously but Christopher’s reputation preceded him. No one that knew him deliberately crossed him.

  Sherry laid a hand on his arm to detain him, her mouth pouting up at him, though her eyes were coldly furious. “But, Christopher, have you forgotten? You asked me for the next dance.”

  “Did I now, love?” he drawled in a bored voice. “I remember it differently, but I would never dream of contradicting a lady.” He looked around. “Gentlemen, entertain Miss Davis.”

  To a man, they would have preferred entertaining the Nordic beauty, but trust Saint to save her for himself. They nodded with a singular lack of enthusiasm. Christopher and Gabby strolled back in the direction of the ballroom. Several others had the same idea. The room filled quickly.

  People in elaborate costumes moved about in a kaleidoscope of color. Diamonds and other glittering gems accentuated their costumes.

  Christopher firmly tucked her hand under his arm. “So, Ms. Bell, are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Quite a shindig.” She leaned closer.

  A fruity fragrance titillated his senses. She smelled like lush ripe berries. A mental image of Gabriella walking through flower-strewn paths on a sunlight morning wearing nothing but that intriguing fragrance left him weak in the knees. Her next words destroyed any thoughts of dalliance.

  “I know who you are,” she breathed in his ear. “And if one precious stone disappears tonight, I’ll tell the world.”

  Christopher gave a weary sigh. “You do enjoy the melodramatic don’t you, Ms. Bell? Care to tell me what you’re talking about?” he said, drawing her into his arms for a waltz.

  For a moment, Gabby said nothing as her body moved in perfect rhythm with Christopher’s. The music and the heat from his hand penetrated the cloth on her back. It stole insidiously through her, leaving every nerve in her body tingling.

  She looked up at him. Her brain turned to mush.

  Christopher had fallen silent. If she didn’t know better, Gabby thought dazedly, she’d swear he was as disoriented as she was.

  A scream brought her up short, ripping through the sensual spell.

  “My jewels! Someone has stolen my jewels!” A heavyset matron dressed rather unbecomingly as Marie Antoinette clutched at her throat.

  Gabby jerked herself out of Christopher’s arms. “Damn you,” Gabby hissed. “I know you are The Tiger. And I intend to prove it. Who’s your accomplice?”

  Luckily, the commotion around them drowned her words from everyone except Christopher.

  People were milling all around. Marie Antoinette was on the far side of the room. Christopher started toward her, but Gabby grabbed his arm and dug in her heels. “I’m not going to let anyone pass those jewels to you.”

  Christopher stopped and stared down at her, his face hard. “Let me go before I strike you.”

  Gabby blanched beneath her mask. There was no doubt in her mind he meant it. She swallowed, but held on determinedly.

  With a lightning-like move, he disengaged himself, then reached out and grabbed her arms and gave her a rough shake. “Now listen, you little fool and listen well. Even if what you are saying about me being The Tiger is true and I don’t admit it for a minute I would hardly foul my own nest. And I always work alone. Do you understand? Now stay put. I want to see if I can find the thief before he gets away.”

  The hands on her arm tightened painfully. Gabby was sure she would have bruises. She struggled then looked at his face and stilled.

  Christopher had gone rigid. He was staring at the entryway.

  The ballroom floor was sunken so anyone entering or leaving was clearly visible.

  Gabby followed his gaze. The most beautiful oriental she had ever seen stood silhouetted in the doorway, dressed in a tight-fitting red dress and carrying a glittering red handbag. The woman wore a red silk half-mask. She blew Christopher a kiss then disappeared.

  Christopher dropped Gabby’s arms and started after her. Gabby stood staring after him as he disappeared into the crowd.

  With a vague notion of following him, Gabby headed toward the entryway. While she was still trying to get through the people mulling about, Christopher ran lightly up the steps to the doorway and disappeared.

  Gabby stopped frustrated. She’d never catch him now. With a shrug she turned and made her way toward the woman still clasping her throat. Maybe Marie Antoinette had gotten a visual of her assailant.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Christopher moved quickly through the crowd, but not quickly enough. He reached the verandah and looked around. Lai was gone. He had lost precious seconds staring, stunned, from the ballroom floor.

  “My car,” Christopher snapped at the nearest valet as he ran down the terrace steps.

  Christopher saw the valet stiffen at his tone but he didn’t have time to worry about niceties.

  Something in his face must have relayed urgency. The man hurried off, returning minutes later.

  Christopher handed him a twenty, jumped in the car and threw it in first. With a roar of its powerful engine, the Jag tore down the drive.

  Black filled the sky. The only thing lighting the road was the car’s headlights and a handful of stars. As a gray cloud drifted over the moon, he leaned forward, squinting.

  The white lines of the road blurred as he pressed the pedal to the floor.

  He flipped on his brights. The low hum of the Jag’s engine reminded him of the well-modulated chatter of another party six years ago.

  Musicians played a sedate waltz and sparkling chandeliers glittered overhead. Men in tuxedoes and women in fabulous jewels and colorful designer gowns glided across the dance floor, as he stared across the room at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She wore black satin that fit her sleek body like a glove and made every woman in the room pale by comparison.

  He was attending an embassy ball in India. His aunt and uncle had sent him abroad as a graduation present. Fascinated, he’d watched her the entire evening. In fact, he was the only one who saw her lift a diamond bracelet from a gray-haired woman’s bejeweled wrist.

  Instead of reporting it, he’d shadowed her when she left the ball, trailing her through the opulence of Calcutta to its back streets where the smell of decay and refuse had filled his nostrils, reminding him of the boy he’d once been.

  Following her to a ratty building that looked ready to fall in on itself, he’d fought his way past two of her back alley henchmen and finally gained admittance to a huge apartment as opulent on the inside as it was decrepit on the outside.

  Once inside, he took one look into Lai’s mysterious black eyes, smelled her sultry perfume and was lost.

  She s
educed him to buy his silence.

  But the woman with the cunning of a fox and the cold calculation of a man had not counted on her body betraying her. Even at twenty-two, he knew his effect on women and Lai had been no exception. They fell into an affair so hot it threatened to ignite India.

  Enamored and impressionable, thinking with his dick instead of his head, he became one of her select group of followers.

  She taught him her arts and he in turn became one of her most apt pupils. Christopher became a jewel thief so agile and quick, he’d earned the nickname of The Tiger. Nor was he lacking in ferocity.

  Four years his senior, Lai was the most powerful woman in India’s underworld. Seldom seem in public, she was an enigma, cloaked in mystery.

  Her dark mystique fascinated him. The only thing he knew about her past was that she had been brutally abused and carried the scars on her back to prove it.

  He stayed with her three years.

  Eventually, he grew weary of Lai’s incessant slavish demands. The flames of passion that consumed him, like any fire, burned out. After having known Aunt Tam’s warmth and compassion he could no longer deal with Lai’s twisted idea of love.

  When the fire died and reason returned he’d gone home. Christopher was the only one who had ever walked away from Lai and lived. Maybe Lai knew that even she would have problems killing The Tiger.

  With backing from his uncle, he had bought into a small import-export shop. The store had done surprisingly well. He left the tiresome details of running it to his partner, a man in his mid-sixties.

  Few people in his social strata even knew about the shop, it pleased his quirky nature to let them think him a dilettante, plus it further separated him from The Tiger.

  Christopher traveled extensively looking for rare objects for the store. No one connected the occasional disappearance of fine jewelry with Christopher Saint’s buying trips.

  His mind snapped back to the present as he came up on a blue Escort traveling about sixty miles an hour. He jerked the wheel, whipped over the white and yellow broken line then back into the right lane of traffic.

  Leaning forward, he saw the red glow of Lai’s taillights traveling fast ahead and stamped down on the accelerator.

  * * * * *

  With her escort gone, Gabby rode home with Tamara, the judge and Sherry. That had been a treat, she thought dryly.

  Gabby and Tamara stood on the white planked verandah, waving, as Judge Hermodson’s limo pulled away from the curb, the light from the street lamp glistening on the roof of the car.

  As the car drove away, they heaved a simultaneous sigh of relief. Tamara unlocked the door. “Thank goodness, this night is finally over. I don’t know if I could have stood any more excitement. Why, Beatrice what are you doing up?” Tamara asked as the door swung open and they stepped into the foyer.

  The maid sat on a red velvet-covered antique bench waiting for them, Ned on the floor beside her, his plumy tail waving. Jericho came strolling in from the living room. He had no doubt left a liberal amount of fur on the expensive sofa, Gabby thought with a silent sigh.

  “Beatrice dear, you should have gone to bed,” Tamara scolded.

  Beatrice stood up. “You know I never turn in until I know you are tucked up right and tight.” The maid glanced over her shoulder as she said it.

  Gabby studied the maid. Beatrice was clasping and unclasping her hands. “Is everything all right?”

  The maid spoke in a hushed whisper. “I think someone was in the house. A little after midnight, Ned started to bark. First he headed for the study then the solarium. He knows how to push open that swinging door that leads into the solarium. I went to the kitchen, picked up the rolling pin and followed him. When I got there, I heard him growl. I swear it raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “I could have sworn I heard a rustling, moving away and heading back toward the door to the house. Then Ned went tearing through the house and into the study. When I got there, the window was open. Ned must have jumped through it cause I could hear him barking outside. He came trotting back when I called him. If someone was out there, he got clean away.”

  “Did you call the police?” the policeman’s daughter asked.

  Beatrice shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t think they’d believe me. The security system never went on.”

  Gabby and Tamara looked at each other and frowned. Whoever had broken in was no amateur. The security system was state-of-the-art.

  “Let’s take a look at the solarium,” Tamara said. The older woman set a brisk pace, with Gabby and Beatrice on her heels.

  Gabby’s mind raced. The solarium was attached to the house. The globe was in the solarium. If someone was after the globe, they’d have to break into the house to get it.

  When they got to the solarium, Tamara threw several switches, flooding the room with light. By unspoken agreement the women headed for the globe.

  The green crystal stood in solitary splendor, untouched. Gabby walked up to it and looked around. There were, of course, no footprints. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that someone had been there.

  “It looks like you were right, Beatrice my dear. Ms. Bell, look at this.”

  Gabby turned and walked toward Tamara, who stood beside a banana tree. She held a broken leaf in her hand.

  “It could have been Ned,” Gabby said.

  Tamara shook her head. “Too high. And look.” Tamara pointed toward a honeysuckle vine bent backward. It was a little higher than Tamara’s shoulder, too tall to have been done by Ned.

  “Isn’t it rather strange we were being broken into at about the same time Mrs. Beaue’s diamonds were being stolen?” Tamara mused aloud.

  The solarium was filled with heavy exotic scents. The air was warm and moist. The Chocolate-Scented Daisies rustled causing all three women to start. Jericho came strolling out. Beatrice emitted a nervous laugh.

  Gabby bent down to pet him as he wrapped himself around her legs. Ned butted against her, jealous.

  Tamara turned toward the dog and patted his thick soft fur. “Beatrice, do you think tomorrow you can round up a large soup bone for our hero?”

  “You bet, Miz. James.”

  The women walked slowly out of the solarium, Tamara switching off the lights behind them.

  “You’d best tell Master Christopher about this when he gets in Miz. James.”

  Tamara smiled but remained noncommittal. As Beatrice walked away, she exchanged looks with Gabby.

  We are thinking the same thing. Christopher will want the globe locked up and we’ll no longer have access to it. Gabby forced herself to say. “Perhaps, you should tell him.”

  “I’ll sleep on it,” Tamara decided. “By the way, why don’t you write up a little piece about the excitement at the ball? Throw in some of those tidbits Mertz was feeding you and I’m sure you’d have a juicy item for the society column, unless you object to that sort of thing on principal.”

  “If it would advance my career, I’d write for the Nation’s Inquirer.” She smiled at Tamara. “I’ve a feeling you’d make a pretty darn good newswoman yourself, or a sleuth.”

  Tamara laughed then said, “If you are going to do a write-up, I know the owner of our city newspaper, dear. Shall I make a phone call tomorrow morning? Or perhaps tonight?”

  “No,” Gabby said firmly. Then hastened to add, “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I want to make it on my own. I’m quite good you know.”

  Tamara laughed. “I never doubted it. And I admire your determination.” The steamy heat of the conservatory dropped away as they stepped into the hallway. It felt cool and dry.

  Tamara paused at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going to bed, dear. Feel free to use my study and computer. Turn in whenever you’re ready.” Unexpectedly, she reached up and placed a featherlight kiss on Gabby’s cheek.

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. James gave her a surprised look. “For what, dear?”

  Gabby said nothing, jus
t shook her head.

  “Sleep well.”

  Gabby watched as the older woman ascended the staircase, her skirt making soft whispering sounds as it undulated against her legs. She smiled bemused then turned away.

  Too keyed up to sleep, she walked to Tamara’s study and sat down at the computer. She stared at the closed window the intruder had escaped out of. Why would one woman steal an emerald and diamond necklace at the same time someone was trying to steal the globe?

  Gabby straightened. Good God! Surely, other women weren’t seeing Christopher Saint’s face in her ball! But she was pretty sure whoever had tried to steal the globe was a male. Gabby smirked and thought a not very nice thought.

  Tomorrow she’d talk to Tamara without actually admitting she’d seen Christopher’s face in the globe. She still wasn’t ready to acknowledge that particular phenomenon. It would be tricky but Gabby was sure she could pull it off. In the meantime, there was the article to write.

  The ball and the theft were news. And if there had been a reporter there who would have already gotten the scoop Tamara would have told her. Never mind it was a masked ball. Miz. James, as Beatrice called her, knew everything. It was a sweeping statement but by now Gabby was a believer. Tamara was an amazingly canny woman.

  Sitting at the computer, Gabby organized her thoughts and began to type. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, racing neck and neck with the ideas swirling in her head. She didn’t have enough proof to accuse Christopher publicly. Nor could she break bread with his aunt while trying to crucify her nephew.

  It didn’t make any sense. No, the jewel theft had been a diversion to steal the globe. And she wasn’t about to mention that either! Instead, she described Mrs. Beaue’s ashen face and gave a glittering description of the necklace. Following Tamara’s advice, she threw in some juicy gossip about the other revelers who’d attended the party.

  She leaned back in her chair and smiled with satisfaction. Done. Picking up a copy of the paper lying on the desk, she looked at bylines then flipped through the phone book. Being a reporter that hadn’t made a name for herself, she’d discovered the only way to get people to listen was to get pushy, even if it was two in the morning. She started calling numbers ’til she finally bullied someone into giving her the home number of the editor-in-chief.