by Rebecca Deel
“I want you safe. Nathan needs you.”
His gaze lifted to hers. “What about you? Do you need me?”
Sophie’s face flushed. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. Can’t you take out a contract and get them off our backs?”
Startled laughter burst from his chest. “How did I miss this blood-thirsty streak of yours?”
“I protect what’s mine.” Her chin tilted up.
Micah leaned over and captured her mouth with his for a long, deep kiss before drawing away from her. “Same here, baby. My turn to talk now.” If he could string a sentence together. He’d either have to quit kissing the adorable woman in his SUV or put a ring on her finger in short order. His vote was for the latter option. Too bad his vote wasn’t the only one that counted.
“Brent is setting up a safe house for you.”
She rounded on him, fire flashing in her gaze. “No. We stick together.”
He pressed two fingers gently against her soft mouth. “Hear me out.” After she nodded, he moved his hand though his gaze remained fixed on her pink lips. “We played our hand the way you wanted. We made some progress. Not enough. Each hour you’re running around town with me heightens the risk of the enemy spotting you and taking a shot. I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you or Nathan.”
“You plan to stash me in a safe house and investigate on your own?” Sophie scowled, fury lacing every syllable. “What about the target on your back? Who’s going to protect you? Brent and his team are running down leads for us and any other projects they have going. No one’s watching you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
She didn’t say a word, just dropped her gaze to his thigh.
Micah stiffened. “That was pure chance. I’ve never been hurt on the job.” His conscience poked at him. “Not bad, anyway.”
“Not good enough. You worked with a team, protecting some dignitary and each other. This time there’s only me.” She reached over and cupped his face between her delicate hands. “Listen up, Lone Ranger. If you stash me in a safe house, I will sneak out, track you down, and kick your awesome derriere. Are you hearing me?”
He chuckled. Awesome derriere? The dictionary ought to have Sophie Valero’s picture beside the word stubborn. “I hear you.”
“The only way I will go into a safe house is if you go with me and stay until Brent and his team figure this out.”
Rebellion burgeoned bright and hot in his chest. “No.” He trusted Brent, but this was his problem, his family. He didn’t let someone else solve his problems.
She smiled. “I guess we do this together.” She unlocked her safety belt, reached for the door handle. “Mrs. Graham is waiting at the door. Coming?”
“Wait for me to help you down.” He’d been so focused on her, Micah neglected to check the walkway conditions. Looked clear, though black ice could be a problem in these temperatures. The walkway was in shade at the moment. Wind chill didn’t allow for much thawing, if any, on this blustery day.
Micah opened his door and stood. He gritted his teeth at the sharp, throbbing pain shooting from his thigh and wondered if he had set himself back. He held on to the door, surveying his surroundings while giving his thigh a quick massage.
The pain finally eased enough for him to release the door and come around the front of the SUV to assist Sophie. Her tight expression spoke volumes. He lifted her from the seat and set her in front of him. He reached into the back and grabbed the covered portrait. “I’m fine, baby. Stiff from my earlier swan dive. I expected as much.” Just not quite this bad.
“I have Valerian in my bag. I’ll get a couple for you once we go inside.” When he didn’t argue or put up a token protest, the color drained from her face. “Micah.”
“Inside. Don’t want watchers to realize I’m moving slower than before.” His mouth twisted. “Can’t look much older than a ninety-year-old man.”
“It’s not funny.” Tears thickened her voice.
“If you cry, I’ll have to tell Mrs. Graham I said something stupid and, from the look of her, she might stick a shotgun in my gut. I already have a gunshot wound, baby. Have some pity.”
Sophie burst into laughter. She might think he was kidding, but Micah had seen the genteel lady’s face when she realized Sophie was upset. He liked her already, though. Anyone who loved his woman enough to defend her was a winner in his book.
“Is everything all right, dear?” Pure white hair glistened in the clouded afternoon light as Nelda Graham stepped onto the pillared porch. Blue eyes studied Micah, suspicion in their depths.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sophie smiled at Mrs. Graham. “Thank you for seeing us on short notice.”
“You’re always welcome here, Sophie. Now, who is your young man?” More perusal from the glittering blue depths of Mrs. Graham’s eyes.
“This is Micah Winter.”
That drew her startled gaze to his face. “Winter?”
Micah smiled. “David’s brother. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Graham.”
“Oh, yes, now I remember you.”
“Ma’am?”
“I saw you at the funeral. I’m sure you don’t remember me from the hundreds of others in attendance. How is your family?” She opened the door, motioned them inside. Mrs. Graham led them into a plush sitting room, a fire crackling in the marble fireplace. Unlike the Ross place, this room allowed him to let down his guard a little.
“They’re on vacation. Dad thought Mom and the rest of the family needed time away.”
“How thoughtful of your father. Please, let me take your coats. Would you like some tea or coffee?”
Sophie propped the portrait against the couch and unzipped her coat. Micah handed the coat along with his to the woman.
Already shaking her head, Sophie said, “No, thanks, Mrs. Graham. We stopped by Starbucks. I would like some water, though.”
“Of course, dear. Starbucks is one of my favorite coffee shops as well.” Mrs. Graham’s gaze dropped to Sophie’s stomach.
Micah moved a step closer, ready to insert himself between her and the other woman, though he didn’t think she was a serious threat to Sophie and the baby.
“Oh, my. Sophie, dear, when are you due?”
“Soon.”
White eyebrows rose and a speculative gaze pinned Micah. “Congratulations. Well, let me hang up your coats and get water for you, then we’ll see about this portrait of Sierra’s.”
Micah cupped his hand under Sophie’s elbow. “Sit down, baby. You can find those smelly pills for me.”
He unwrapped the portrait and laid it across Sophie’s knees. Sierra might have had the morals of an alley cat before she married David, but the woman had a boatload of talent. Though Nelda Graham would have won a beauty contest at any age, the real attraction of the portrait was the vibrant life exhibited with each brush stroke. Would Nathan exhibit the same artistic ability? He smiled. What a tribute to his aunt. Or maybe he’d be more inclined to the math side like the Winter men.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sophie handed him a couple capsules.
“Helps when the subject is attractive. Didn’t take Sierra much to create a masterpiece with a woman who stops traffic.”
“You’re so kind, dear.” Nelda Graham smiled and handed a bottle of water to each of them. “Now, let’s look at this work of art.” Her eyebrows rose as she examined the portrait. “The artist had a gift for flattery.” She laughed. “The Star looks exquisite, which I’m sure was Sierra’s main attraction.”
Micah studied Nelda Graham. “You knew about Sierra’s habit?”
Another spurt of amusement. “Of course.”
“You didn’t mind inviting her into your home or allowing her to paint your jewels?”
She frowned. “No. Why?”
“Most people have a problem with someone who walks off with their valuables. You didn’t care about that?”
“I knew Sophie would return whatever Sierra borrowed from me.”
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“Borrowed? Quaint way to express outright thievery.”
“Quite correct, Mr. Winter. However, I understand what drove Sierra. My husband also borrows beautiful things from people.”
Micah’s cheeks heated. Huh. Hadn’t seen that one coming. “Who returns those items he steals?”
Mrs. Graham flinched. “Please, dear. Such a harsh term.”
“Micah’s in law enforcement, Mrs. Graham.” A pat on his arm. “He sees things as black or white. No gray areas.”
“The truth is, young man, I returned all the items my husband borrowed.”
“You’re a cat burglar?” Disbelief laced his words.
Sophie laughed this time at Nelda Graham’s horrified expression. “She didn’t have to use the same techniques I adopted, Micah. The Grahams wield a lot of power and have pots of money in every major bank in town. No one wanting to maintain a presence in the most influential circles would dare refuse them entrance to their home. Besides, Mrs. Graham always returns the jewelry.”
“Everything? How does she know Mr. Graham hasn’t held something back?”
“Because he’s like a child, Mr. Winter. Charles can’t wait to show me his new toys. He leaves them with me. The high stays with him for a while. When that peculiar restlessness hits, he begins the search for something new.”
Unbelievable. Mrs. Graham acting as if this was normal floored him. “Ma’am, there are doctors who could help your husband. He needs to break this addiction before it lands him in jail.”
“He has to want help, Mr. Winter. I can’t make him go to the doctors. The sessions do no good if he refuses to seek help for himself.”
Micah sighed. He’d heard the same argument from David about Sierra’s problem. He turned to Sophie. “I guess you didn’t have to go the cat burglar route with Mrs. Graham.”
“I came in the front door like anyone else and handed the Star necklace to her.”
“Mrs. Graham, would you be willing to let us see the necklace?”
“Why?”
He eyed the older woman, wondered if she could be trusted as much his gut indicated. It was possible Nelda Graham could be behind the threats to Sophie, but why? Sophie returned everything Sierra stole from this woman. If Sophie missed a piece of jewelry, Mrs. Graham would ask her to look for whatever she was missing from the safe or jewelry box.
“Someone broke into Sophie’s home a few nights ago and threatened to hurt her and the baby if she didn’t return something Sierra stole.”
Shock stole across Mrs. Graham’s face. “Oh, my. You’re all right, my dear?”
“Scared.”
“I can imagine. What did he want?”
Micah twisted off the bottle cap and downed the two capsules, gaze glued to the older woman. She’d used a masculine pronoun. Did she know the intruder was a man because she sent him or was it generic word usage? “We don’t know. He wouldn’t tell her what the object was, only that his employer wanted it bad enough to threaten the baby.”
“Outrageous.” Her face flushed a bright shade of red. “I hope you catch him and teach him some manners.”
“I plan on it. Why did you assume it was a man?”
“Breaking into a woman’s home and threatening her with bodily harm doesn’t seem likely for a woman. It’s more a man’s game to intimidate with physical violence. Women lean toward blackmail.” She returned her attention to Sophie. “If you don’t know what this man wants, why did you . . .? Of course. The Star. You think this man wants a particular jewel.”
“It’s a place to start since Sierra lifted gems,” Micah said.
She frowned. “But Sophie already returned the necklace.”
“Have you worn the necklace since I brought it back?” Sophie asked.
Silence. Then, “I don’t believe I have.” She stood. “Well, no time like the present to find out if I’m the owner of an empty velvet case.”
Within minutes, Mrs. Graham returned, black velvet case in hand. “Do you have your loupe, dear?”
Micah darted a look at Sophie. A loupe?
Sophie grinned. “Never leave home without it. I feel naked without one.” She dug the jeweler’s instrument from her purse. Light from the nearby flames flickered on the metal and glass tool in her hand.
The woman lifted the velvet covered lid and handed Sophie the box. Reflected light danced on the ceiling. “You know, my husband is throwing me a birthday party tomorrow evening. We’ll showcase Sierra’s portrait and I would be honored if you and your young man dropped in for a few minutes. The unveiling is at 8:00.”
“We’d love that, Mrs. Graham. I miss Sierra so much and seeing people admire her work might help.” Sophie lifted the necklace from the case and peered at it through the loupe. A minute passed as she turned the diamond and sapphire creation clasped in her hand. Another minute, a deep sigh and, “These gems are exquisite, Mrs. Graham.”
Tension leached from Micah’s muscles. “So they’re real?”
“They are real moissanite.”
Nelda Graham’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh my.”
Micah’s gaze shifted from Mrs. Graham to Sophie. “Moissanite? What’s that? Paste?”
Sophie shook her head. “These are beautiful stones, but they aren’t diamonds.”
Micah rubbed his jaw. “So how many dollars are we talking?”
“Think hundreds versus thousands of dollars.”
He whistled. “So whoever made the switch invested a little and cleared a lot.”
“Millions,” Mrs. Graham whispered. She dropped on the couch beside Sophie. “I don’t understand how this could happen. What should I do next? Who knows how long the necklace has been missing.”
“You have to call the police.” Micah limped to a nearby wing chair and sat. “I assume it was insured.”
“Yes, of course. But the sentimental value is more than the actual dollar amount lost. My husband presented the necklace to me on our wedding day.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“So am I, young man.” She stood. “I dread dealing with the police.”
Micah considered what the next hours would bring and wished Sophie far away from Nelda Graham and her not-so-expensive necklace. The stolen necklace would bring Abbott’s attention to the Grahams and, by proximity, to Sophie.
He studied Sophie over his steepled hands. “What are the chances that Sierra stole the gems and replaced them with fakes?”
“Zero. My sister was not greedy. She stole beautiful jewelry for the challenge. She never took gems from their mounting. Too much effort, too much risk of getting caught, and it would have stolen the magic of the piece, knowing it was fake.”
Made sense in a convoluted fashion. If the value was diminished, why bother with the risk? Beyond that, Sierra had nowhere to wear those gems. She and David never went anyplace fancy enough to show them off. His brother hated that kind of lifestyle. And, with sapphires that distinctive and in a non-glitterati setting, someone was sure to notice. David would have questioned her as well. His brother wouldn’t let Sierra steal jewelry like that and not arrange for its return.
On the other hand, if Sierra stole for the challenge, stealing Nelda Graham’s necklace and squirreling it away except for holding and admiring it fell in the challenge category. What if the Valero’s world-class jewel thief had developed a new fetish, defeating state-of-the-art security systems?
One thing he knew for sure: he was going in circles trying to figure out his sister-in-law. His gut also burned at his brother protecting his wife at the expense of Sophie’s safety. If David were alive, Micah would flatten his brother in a heartbeat for using Sophie. Had anybody ever stood up for her, protected her? That was the new order of business. Nobody would get away with using Sophie again, not on his watch.
The doorbell pealed through the foyer. Sophie’s hand clenched into a fist. Noting her pallor, Micah moved from the chair to sit at her side. A familiar voice made him glad he’d changed position. Good time for a uni
ted front. Of all the detectives, they had to draw Abbott again. Wouldn’t take him two seconds to draw an understandable conclusion. Trouble trailed Sophie like a shadow.
When Sophie stiffened, he clasped her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Give him straight facts, love,” he murmured in her ear. “Nothing else.”
“He’ll try to pin this on me.”
“He needs proof. He doesn’t have any.”
“Yet.”
“You didn’t steal those gems. There is no evidence to find.” And if Abbott somehow manufactured evidence, Micah knew several world-class lawyers whose main goal in life was to make mincemeat of these types of cases. Each one hated dirty cops. Anticipation hummed through his veins. He practically tasted retribution for the pain Abbott had already caused Sophie.
“You believe me.” A statement, not a question.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m a Valero. We’re the scum of the earth according to Abbott and his cronies.”
Micah turned her face toward his. He waited to speak until her gaze locked with his. “Valero is your name, not who you are.” And if he had his way, Valero wouldn’t be her name much longer. He didn’t know yet how to convince her it was in their best interests to form a traditional family. But he wanted it with a fierceness that blindsided him. “We’ll find the answers and get our lives back on track.”
Any response she might have made dried up when Abbott strode into the living room, followed by a shaken Mrs. Graham.
“Well, Ms. Valero, you’re like a bad penny. You keep showing up in my investigations. Makes me wonder if you are as innocent as you claim.”
Micah’s fingers tightened over Sophie’s in silent warning not to respond. As law enforcement himself, Micah knew the game Abbott was playing, had used it himself on several occasions. Didn’t mean he liked Sophie on the wrong end of this game.
The Metro detective flicked a hard glance his way. The enmity glittering in the man’s gaze raised the hair at the nape of his neck. Abbott already had his mind made up. Names of his own resources raced through Micah’s mind. If the detective wasn’t willing to look for the truth, he’d be happy to rub Abbott’s face in it. He just had to find the truth. And the path to the truth wound through many hairpin turns and switchbacks. Made Micah even more determined to keep following the tracks until he took down the thugs after his woman and son.
