I leaned back and took deep cleansing breaths, trying to settle my nerves, which were going ballistic. Then my skin tingled with a new fear. What if my house was bugged or under surveillance? There was no time to consider the ramifications of what I was about to do. I had to act. I tried Tony’s cell again with no luck. I thought of calling Dallas, but he’d probably tell me to call the police.
After I double-checked that my doors were locked, I grabbed my seam ripper and prepared to assault my quilt once more. I ripped open the stitches holding the diamonds in place. When my fingers closed around the diamonds, I let out the breath I’d been holding and stuffed the bag down my shirt. Holding my cell phone, I returned to my bedroom. The house was quiet, and the stillness added to the tension. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I tried to think of a plan.
It was almost five-thirty. I needed to get rid of the diamonds. The thief hadn’t found them in my house, but if he came back, I knew I would turn them over in a heartbeat. I also knew what a bad idea that would be, because in the movies, the person playing me—the girl who took the diamond smuggler’s cache and then returned them at gunpoint—always ended up dead.
My closet door was slightly ajar, and I noticed that the toes of my running shoes were turned away from the wall. They weren’t where I’d left them, either, but it gave me an idea. Slipping into the bathroom, I changed into running gear, rolled the bag of diamonds into a tube, and tucked it in my sports bra. I pulled on a jacket and a pair of jeans over my running shorts.
If they were watching me, I needed to think ahead, and I wanted it to look like I was heading for the mountain. On my way out, I grabbed an apple, a cheese stick, and some crackers. At the last minute, I remembered the dinners from Mom and shoved them into my cramped freezer space.
Keeping my head down, I hurried out to my vehicle, jumped inside, and locked the doors. I drove up Warm Springs Road. The traffic was light, as usual on Sunday, and I kept an eye out for anyone tailing me. The road narrowed as I drew closer to the mountain pass that led to the natural hot springs.
When the stretch of road was clear both ways, I jammed my foot on the gas pedal and careened to the right into a dead end just past a section of cabin-like homes. I whipped the Mountaineer around and put it in park. Watching the dashboard clock, I waited five full minutes and counted four cars, none of which included a silver Toyota Camry. If I was being followed, it was likely in a different vehicle. I nosed the Mountaineer back on to the road and sped off in the direction I’d just come.
Purposefully driving on the quiet side roads kept me away from the traffic of Main Street. The back roads made it easier to check for someone who might be following me. When I had weaved through town, I backtracked, stopped at Rotary Park, and took off my jeans and jacket. Grabbing a water bottle, I scanned the area. The park wasn’t crowded—a few families and older couples dotted the grass.
Towering pine trees surrounded the parking lot, and I darted between them, sprinting toward the paved bike trail that would take me close to my usual running route. If anyone had kept up with me, they would hopefully think I was just out for a run.
With my destination over two miles away, I slowed to a comfortable pace and tried not to think about the diamonds pressing against my chest. My watch showed that I had already been gone for an hour. It was almost seven, and by the time I finished the run and diamond drop, it would be eight o’clock. The list of things I needed to do during the week cycled through my mind. Stressing over it wouldn’t get the job done, so I forced myself to count steps in an attempt to keep my running cadence even.
The bushes near the trail grew thick this time of year, and I had to dodge a few low branches. The path curved slightly, and I saw “the hottie” coming toward me. My heart rate increased, and I panicked. What if he was the diamond smuggler? It would have been easy for him to figure out my running route because we’d passed each other at several different points over the past few months.
But we hadn’t passed each other for a few days. My runs had been more sporadic with everything going on at the shop and wedding season in full swing. Maybe he’d been busy stealing wedding gowns.
He approached at a fast pace, and with a quick glance I knew that this part of the trail offered no access to hiding places. We were about a half mile from any sort of business. If he had come to get his diamonds, there was little I could do about it. He had his shirt off. Today would have been a perfect day to admire his firm abs if he wasn’t a diamond smuggler. Instead, he’d probably kill me.
I felt my face tighten as we closed the distance between us. Odd, I thought—something about him seemed familiar today. Thirty feet from me, he yanked out his earbuds.
“Adri. How are you?”
I nearly tripped as he stopped beside me. Grateful that my sunglasses gave me time to hide the confusion in my gaze, I sucked in a breath and choked when he pulled off his sunglasses.
“Luke?”
I was so surprised and grateful that I wasn’t about to be murdered on a bike trail that I nearly hugged him. I took a step forward and remembered this was Luke Stetson, divorce lawyer against marriage, and leaned back. My balance was off, and I wobbled. Luke grabbed hold of me.
“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
All this time, “the hottie” was Luke. Lorea would never let me hear the end of this one. He stared at me. “I kept wondering why you seemed familiar.”
“I didn’t recognize you with your sunglasses and hat.” My words sounded clipped, and it was a good thing my face was already red from running because I felt mortified to think how many months I’d been admiring him. Every time we’d run past each other, I had secretly hoped for a chance to meet him. My fantasy crumbled.
Luke let go of my arm and pulled off his hat. He squeezed the brim and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve been thinking about last week. I’m really sorry.”
The words I wanted to say burned on my tongue, but I waited a moment.
“You have a right to be angry with me,” he said. “I was out of line. And then I heard about your wedding dresses getting stolen—it was bad timing. I was rude.”
I realized I had stopped breathing and took a big gulp of air. “You were. I don’t understand why.”
Luke’s stance relaxed, and he looked at the ground for a moment. I watched him swallow, and he lifted his eyes to mine. “I need to explain. It’s not something I want to do, but I owe it to you if you’ll give me a chance.”
“I’m listening.”
“I haven’t always been so cynical about marriage.” He lifted his left hand. “I was married—I mean, I’m a widower—my wife died.” He stumbled over his words, and the pain etched across his face made my heart hurt.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he shook his head. “Please don’t say anything. Don’t say you’re sorry. Just listen.”
My mouth clamped shut, and I blinked rapidly, chiding myself for the tears threatening to fall at his display of grief. It was easy to see that the pain was still raw, and I wondered how long it had been. He cleared his throat and answered my unspoken question.
“Three years ago. Hodgkin’s disease. She was supposed to get better.” Luke closed his eyes, and his jaw tensed as he blew out a deep breath. “We were married for five years—she helped put me through law school. Our whole life was just beginning. A few months before the diagnosis, we were talking about starting a family.”
My throat seemed to collapse on itself as I struggled to swallow the anguish I felt for him.
He clutched his hat, turning it over and over in his hands. “It’s not something I want people in this town to know. I’ve been able to keep my past a secret, and I want it to stay that way—it’s easier.”
I wanted to speak, but I didn’t want him to shush me again, so I waited.
Luke lifted his head and met my gaze. “I’m sure it doesn’t make sense to you.”
I lifted my shoulders and then let them drop.
“
People say if I was happy once, then I could be again, but I can’t go there. It’s not worth the hurt.” His face tightened, and I noticed moisture on his dark lashes.
“Then why ask me out?”
“I wasn’t going to, but you were so fun and easy to talk to that day over fried pickles, and then our little date with the pizza pockets was even better. I thought . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I wanted to reach out and embrace him—try to take away some of his hurt—but instead I reached for his hand, pressing my fingers against his. Luke glanced at my hand and then at me, his eyes misting with emotion.
“Thank you for telling me,” I said. “I’m sorry I was so angry. I was out of line too.” I gave his hand another squeeze and let go.
Luke stepped closer and his shoulder brushed mine, sending a spark of electricity through me. His breath came in short puffs, and I could see him still struggling to maintain composure. “Thanks,” he whispered. Then he turned and sprinted down the hill. I watched him go and wondered what else I could say to ease his pain. I wanted to say, “I’m here if you need me.” But I was still confused.
He didn’t want to ask me out, but he made the effort to come to my store anyway? It was almost like he sabotaged himself by being rude to me, so he would have a way out. But he’d just apologized and explained because he cared about what I thought of him. He cared.
I watched his back disappear around a copse of bushes and scowled. Now he’d gone and given me a reason to forgive him. My heart fluttered when I thought about how close I’d stood to his bare chest. I took a deep breath and felt the bag of diamonds against my sports bra. Dang you, Luke. With a glance around to check that no one was approaching, I picked up my pace and tried not to think about Luke Stetson.
Chapter 15
Sparkler Send-Off
The big send-off is at 11:00 p.m.!
Print announcement of the send-off on 4 x 6-inch pieces of heavy-weight cardstock. Cut two slits, one at the top and one at the bottom of the announcement. Slide one sparkler through the slits. Arrange sparklers and announcements in a vintage bucket or basket. Have helpers ready with torch lighters just before the time of the send-off.
Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com.
Die-hard literature fans often visited the Ketchum cemetery to view the final resting place of Ernest Hemingway and his granddaughter, actress Margaux Hemingway. A plain granite slab stood between two fir trees in the shadow of the hill that banked the cemetery. The marker engraved with only Hemingway’s name and dates was the main attraction in the cemetery.
The two tragic deaths brought some notoriety to the well-manicured cemetery, but most people stopped at the memorial off Sun Valley Road to pay homage to a bust of the literary hero.
A late-night visit to the cemetery usually had something to do with spooks and spirits, but since I didn’t believe that nonsense, it didn’t scare me to run through a graveyard at twilight. I chose to focus on the peaceful feeling I felt from most of the people who rested under the tombstones. The thing that scared me had nothing to do with granite and everything to do with diamonds. Keeping a steady running cadence was difficult with trepidation chasing at my heels. I struggled to breathe evenly and ignore the bulge of diamonds tucked in my sports bra. I also struggled to stop the flow of thoughts about Luke from overtaking my consciousness.
Running a full loop of the cemetery reassured me that no one had followed. Solitude blanketed the landscape, so I decided it was safe to follow through with my plan. I crisscrossed through the pine trees flanking the headstones until I reached one with a bird feeder hanging from a low limb. It was constructed of metal that had rusted over in a deep brown patina.
I had run past it before and wondered about the empty feeder swinging in the breeze. When I inspected the family headstone beneath it, I found two names—a woman, who had passed on twelve years before, and her husband, who had been dead for only three years. I imagined the old man filling the bird feeder so his wife’s favorite songbirds would sing over her in her final slumber.
The bird feeder would be the next hiding place for the diamonds. I had wanted to tell Tony everything, and maybe I should have taken the diamonds directly to the police station, but the note scared me into questioning my earlier resolve. Besides, I still hadn’t figured out how to report the diamonds without losing Natalie’s dress. I’d find a way to talk to Tony and tell him about the diamonds as soon as they were out of my possession.
Before I pulled the bag from my sports bra, I checked behind me. The cemetery was fading into darkness, and no one was around. I stepped under the low-hanging branches of the fir tree and stuffed the diamonds inside the rusty shell of the bird feeder. The chain holding the feeder made a tiny squeaking noise until I stilled the movement with my hand.
Peeking out from underneath the tree, I took off running, faster now that the foreboding weight of the diamonds no longer pressed against my heart. Hopefully Tony would not arrest me when I could finally tell him what I had done.
Meeting up with Luke had delayed me enough that when I ran the full distance back to my vehicle, the sun’s last rays had disappeared. I hurried to unlock the door and get out of the open. My cell phone pinged with a new message from Dallas.
Missed you this weekend. Can I see you tonight?
It was already nine-thirty, and I didn’t know what to think of the conflicted feelings I had for Luke. But I was scared and didn’t want to go back inside my empty house alone again. The idea to call Lorea and have her come over had briefly crossed my mind, but she knew me too well. She would know something was up and quiz me until she found out. I decided to be impulsive.
Can you come over right now? I’m just getting back from a run. Would love to see you.
My phone pinged with his answer.
Be there in 5.
Dallas responded so fast it made me smile. Good. We should get to my condo about the same time, and he could go inside with me. If there were any bad guys, hopefully Dallas could save me.
I pulled into my parking space and grabbed my stuff out of the back just as Dallas pulled in beside me. He jumped out of his Hyundai Accent with a big grin. I smiled back—I was happy to see him. So there, Jenna. I ignored the niggling thought that I was only happy because I was scared spitless to go in my own house.
He put his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts and tipped his head toward me. “Adri, you continue to amaze me. You run yourself ragged planning weddings, and then you run some more.”
“I know. It seems crazy, but it’s my stress relief.” And tonight I’d had a certain bag of diamonds worth hundreds of thousands of dollars I needed to hide in a cemetery. No stress there.
Dallas touched my shoulder as we approached my front door. “You’re my stress relief.”
I looked over my shoulder at him and lifted one eyebrow. “I don’t know. Lately, I’m emanating stress, so you’d better watch out.”
Breathing through my fear and relying on Dallas’s presence helped me as I unlocked my door and walked inside. There weren’t any notes on the side table, and my house seemed just as I left it. The wedding ring quilt hanging in my front room was folded neatly so the gaping hole near the signature block was hidden from view. The erratic beating of my heart struggled to return to normal. I dropped my stuff on the table and filled a glass with water, guzzled it, and then refilled it. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“I’m good. This is a nice place,” Dallas said, and I was reminded that this was the first time he’d been inside my house. “Everything is so clean.”
“My mother taught me well. And I’m a little obsessive—I make sure my house is ‘spring clean’ because once summer hits, I don’t have time for anything but wedding plans.” I tried not to think of my garage, because it definitely wasn’t up to my standard. It was full of boxes and every scrap I had brought from my days working weddings in San Francisco. Parking ou
tside now wasn’t a problem, but in a few short months, the weather would turn cold and the garage would have to be cleared out. Scraping windshields was an activity that just didn’t suit me.
“I like it.” Dallas stepped closer and stared at me with those alluring green eyes. He put his arms around me and pulled me in to his chest. “I missed you.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. The back of my ponytail felt sweaty. A quick shower would have been nice, but Dallas didn’t seem to mind my running gear. “I missed you too. Thanks for coming over. Sorry I’ve been so stressed.”
He leaned toward me, and his lips caressed mine softly, cutting off my rambling apology.
I kissed him back, eager for his closeness, and wrapped my arms around his neck. His face was clean-shaven, and I could smell his minty aftershave. He put his hand on the small of my back and brought me closer, deepening the kiss. My fingers brushed the coarse hair at the nape of his neck, and I felt my pulse quicken. His kiss was gentle, yet insistent, and when I finally pulled away, I could see a fire in his eyes that made me wonder if Dallas was finally getting over his shyness. He leaned in for another light kiss and then held me close.
We stood there for a moment until the mantel clock chimed ten. I sensed that Dallas wanted to keep kissing me, but I didn’t want to get carried away.
“Do you want to watch something? I know it’s kind of boring, but I need to sort through some fabric swatches and see if I can find one that will work as an accent for Natalie and Brock’s wedding. I’m trying to re-create the binder that was stolen.”
“I’d love to.” Dallas clasped my hand and followed me to the living room, just off my kitchen. “It’s pretty impressive that you’re doing a wedding for such a famous person.”
“Yeah, Lady Luck decided to shine on me for once.” Lorea was my Lady Luck because she and Natalie had been friends since childhood, and Lorea had started working for me just two weeks before Natalie got engaged.
Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things Page 15
