Diamonds Aren't Forever

by Betty Sullivan La Pierre

  Jennifer frowned. “Then he could be getting out of jail soon."

  He raised his brows. “As a matter of fact, you're right. But if I were Carl Hopkins, I'd high tail it east and hope never to set eyes on Jamey Schyler again."

  "There's no reason for her to return to the States now that she's sold the house. Even if he came looking, he won't find her."

  Hawkman stood and paced. “Unless there's a problem with the title."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm not sure. Something just tells me we haven't seen the last of Ms. Jamey."

  "Do you know which title company she's using?"

  "Charley mentioned American. Why?"

  "My friend Marge works there. She could keep an eye on things and let me know if anything out of the ordinary shows up."

  Hawkman's face lit up. “You think she'd do it?"

  Jennifer shrugged. “I don't see why not. There's nothing secretive about a title search. It's public record."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Relieved to finally land in Rio, Jamey hurried off the plane into the terminal where she found Bob waiting with open arms and a big grin rippling across his face. They embraced passionately, then he pushed her back and scowled.

  "Why are you trembling?"

  "I'm so happy to be home. And I never want to go back."

  He laughed, took her arm and led her toward the baggage area.

  "It couldn't have been that bad."

  She tossed her head and rolled her eyes. “Hawkman appeared everywhere. Like a bad nightmare. He's even friends with the man renting the house. The only thing I can say is, he didn't recognize me at first, but by the time I left, I'm sure he knew."

  "You're safe from the clutches of the big bad Hawkman now,” Bob teased as he curled his hand into a claw and scraped the air.

  Jamey grinned, then her expression turned solemn. “He scares me. Every time I see him, a chill runs down my back. Not a good sign."

  "That's your imagination running away. And the man probably looks menacing with a patch over his eye. But you have no reason to fear him. He can't do a thing to you."

  Her shoulders relaxed as they stopped beside the luggage carousel. “I'm just happy to be home."

  * * * *

  A week passed since the Jamey episode, and Hawkman sat in his office studying a file on a reported missing child. The phone jangled and brought him out of his concentration.

  "Casey, here."

  "Hey, Hawkman, this here's Charley. Can you stop by this afternoon? Need to talk to you."

  "Is the garden growing okay?"

  "Oh, yeah. No problems there. The little green shoots are popping up all over. The tomato plants I bought already have blossoms. Everything's lookin’ good. But I need to talk to you about something else."

  "I'll come by in a couple of hours."

  Hawkman hung up, wondering what Charley wanted. He knew the man hated to talk on the phone, so no use trying to coax it out of him. Hawkman settled back in the chair and rested the file on his knees. When the phone rang again, he reached over and hit the speaker button.

  "Casey, here."

  "Hi, hon, it's Jennifer. I received a phone call from Marge at the title company a little while ago. She said there's a discrepancy on the title of the Smith place. Seems like two names appear on the document, Jasmine Louise Gray and Jamey Louise Schyler. Looks like Jamey will have to appear in person to prove both names belong to her."

  Hawkman straightened and leaned over the phone. “You're kidding?"

  "Nope. Looks like the little con woman will have to show her face again if she really wants to sell the property."

  "Did Marge happen to mention when they discovered the problem?"

  "Just this morning. She said the whole place is in an uproar because no one noticed and now they have to get her back."

  "I'm surprised Jamey made such a mistake,” Hawkman said. “Of course, my appearance at the little house probably rattled her a bit."

  Jennifer laughed. “Now, don't give yourself too much credit. She might well forget the whole thing and let Charley continue to rent."

  "I really doubt it. Tell Marge we owe her a dinner."

  "You going to cook it?"

  "Naw, we'll take her out."

  Jennifer chuckled. “Chicken."

  "Whatever she wants."

  "You're so bad. I'll see you tonight."

  Hawkman hung up, sat back and stared into space, thumping his pencil on the desk. He tried to focus on the open file and made a few notes. Finally, he closed the folder and turned to the computer where he pulled up airline schedules. After verifying the flights, he shut down and left the office.

  Before going to Charley's, he headed for the airport. Unfortunately, he didn't time it right since a number of people stood waiting at the ticket counter. He spotted Patti with her head down as she worked furiously at the computer. Turning away, he headed out the door and decided to return later.

  Hawkman arrived at Charley's and found him pulling weeds in the garden. “How's it going,” he called, walking gingerly across the rows of small plants popping through the soil.

  "Good, good,” the farmer said, straightening and rubbing his back. “It's hard work getting those bugger weeds out. But once the plants grow bigger, won't have to worry so much."

  Charley took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a rag pulled from his back pocket. Then he pointed toward the chairs. “Let's go sit a spell."

  The old man pulled a thermos of ice water from under the chair and poured them both a drink. “Thought you might be by, so brought out an extra glass."

  "Thanks,” Hawkman said. “So what did you want to talk about?"

  "Got the word this morning that the sale of the place won't go as fast as I'd hoped. The young lady didn't do everything right."

  "Oh, yeah. There's a problem?"

  "Something about two different names on the documents. The proceedings can't continue until it's straightened out. Looks like the owner has to appear in person to clear it up. Just thought you might want to know.” Charley said, with a twinkle in his eye.

  Hawkman almost choked on a swallow of water. “And what makes you think I'm interested in this deal?"

  "When you asked a lot of questions about the little gal I had lunch with, I put two and two together. Figured you had something to settle with the one who owns this place."

  "You're right,” Hawkman said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I think Shirley Ann Noland and Jamey Schyler are the same woman. Would you like to hear the story about Ms. Jamey Louise Schyler?"

  "Yep, sure would."

  Hawkman told the tale about Jamey coming to town over a year ago and how he'd met her in the house in which Charley now lived. Then he explained how he suspected Jamey had been involved in a diamond heist back in Oklahoma. She'd conned a young man named Carl Hopkins to do the dirty work, then left with the stash while he lay wounded in the hospital. He waved a hand toward the house.

  "Her deceased aunt left her this property, so Jamey figured she'd hide out here until her lover, the diamond courier, escaped out of the country. But things took a sour turn and didn't move along as fast as she'd have liked. Running out of money forced her to hock a couple of the diamonds to a local jeweler."

  "Is that when you started putting it together?” Charley asked, taking a big gulp of water.

  Hawkman nodded. “Then somehow her best girlfriend's beau got wind of Jamey having the gems and tracked her. Turned out I witnessed Jamey shooting the guy in self-defense."

  Charley scowled. “So she knows how to use a gun?"

  "Yep. Then Hopkins tracked her on the computer through her credit charges to Los Angeles. Jamey realized what she'd done and cut up the cards, so the trail ended there. But Hopkins knew about this girlfriend of Jamey's, and looked her up. He happened to be there when the news came about Jamey shooting this girl's lover. So he hightailed it up here and started searching. He never found Jame
y, but she'd spotted him and realized she didn't have much time before he'd find her. She planted the diamonds in his truck, then disappeared."

  Charley looked puzzled. “I don't understand. If she gave up the diamonds, how's she living in Rio?"

  "It puzzled the police at first. Then we discovered she'd kept other rare gems from the heist that were worth four or five times the value of the diamonds. She probably hid them on her body when she left. The diamond companies didn't disclose this fact until too late."

  "So, what you're saying is the little gal sidestepped around you and the authorities?"

  "Afraid so."

  "So, she comes back to town. What can you pin on her?"

  Hawkman's expression changed to disgust. “Not a damn thing. That's what's so irritating. We have no proof she even had the diamonds, except for the two she hocked, which she claimed were gifts. They traced the marked diamonds found in Hopkins’ truck, and returned those to the companies after Carl Hopkins’ trial. Guess their insurance paid for the rest of the loss."

  "Why didn't the diamond company go after her?"

  "Too expensive. Especially in a foreign country."

  Charley nodded. “Yeah, I can see the problem there. So, you think she joined this courier guy in South America?"

  "Yep, because he also disappeared. There's a warrant out for him. He won't be making any trips back to the States, unless he wants to get arrested."

  "That's quite a story. Why go after the dame, if there's nothing you can do?"

  Hawkman let out a disgusted sigh. “Just like to confront her."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jamey climbed out of the indoor heated pool and dripped across the concrete floor to one of the lounges. When she and Bob had searched Rio for a house, she'd insisted on this one, because she wanted to swim year around. Pulling her long hair to one side, she lay down on her stomach, wadded up a large beach towel for a pillow and fell into a light sleep.

  Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she jumped up with a yelp as drips of cold water splattered onto her back and rolled down her sides.

  Bob tossed back his head and laughed. “You looked so beautiful and comfortable, I couldn't resist."

  She grinned and threw the towel around her shoulders. “You're a stinker."

  He waved a sheet of paper. “As I worked on the computer, an e-mail came through for you from the title company. Thought you'd want to see it, so I printed it out."

  She gathered her loose hair into one hand, wrapped a colorful stretchy band around it, and let the pony tail hang to one side of her face. “Thanks,” she said, taking the paper. She clutched the towel around her body, and strolled over to a nearby chair. As she read, her face paled, then flushed with anger.

  "Dammit, I can't believe I'm so stupid,” she screamed, slamming the message down on the glass top table.

  Bob hurried to her side. “What'd you do?"

  She glanced up, her brown eyes blazing. “Didn't you read this?"

  "No, it had your name on it."

  "I signed the papers as Jamey Louise Schyler. I should have signed them Jasmine Louise Gray. That's the name my aunt had on the deed. She didn't know I'd changed my name.” She clenched her hands into fists. “It's all Hawkman's fault. I couldn't think straight, knowing the man might be right around the corner."

  She jumped up, paced back and forth in front of Bob, and ranted about what an idiotic thing she'd done. He finally took hold of her shoulders and pushed her down in a chair.

  "Look, it's no big deal,” he said, sitting down opposite her.

  "Oh, yeah!” she yelled. “Now I have to go back to that hick town to prove Jasmine Louise Gray and Jamey Louise Schyler are one and the same person."

  "Can't you just fax them some documents?"

  She picked up the e-mail and held it in front of his face. “I have to go to the title company in person and present my birth certificate, social security number and any other document that proves who I am.” She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. “I don't want to go back there again."

  Bob reached across the table and took her hand. “Then don't. You don't have to sell the house."

  "You don't understand. I want to rid myself of the burden."

  He gave her hand a squeeze. “Honey, we don't need the money. We have enough to live on comfortably for the rest of our lives."

  "I don't need the responsibility of that place. But I don't want to run into Hawkman either. The man scares me."

  Bob stood and looked down into her eyes. “If you really think you need to make this trip, then do it the same way you did before. Go in quickly and get out. Give yourself a few days to get ready. Make an appointment with the title company, so they'll know the date of your arrival. And make sure you have all your paperwork."

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. “You're right. I'll go next week."

  * * * *

  Hawkman came into the office late and immediately put on the coffee pot. He hadn't slept much the last two nights since he'd been on surveillance until three in the morning. A father wanting full custody of his two small children had hired Hawkman to follow his estranged wife and prove her to be an unfit mother. So far, the woman had done nothing wrong. He'd asked one of his helpers to take over the mission today, so he could catch up at the office.

  Just as he sat down at the desk and booted up the computer, someone knocked on the door.

  "Come in."

  A long-haired, bearded man poked his head around the edge. “You busy?"

  "Not at the moment. What can I do for you?"

  The tall seedy looking male wearing worn Levi's and a ragged tee shirt, slowly walked into the room, his gaze took in every piece of furniture and each picture on the wall.

  "Have a seat,” Hawkman said, motioning toward the chair in front of the desk.

  He sat down and stared at Hawkman with piercing blue eyes. His gaze didn't waver for several seconds. “You don't recognize me, do you?"

  "No, but you look vaguely familiar."

  The man reached up and brushed a hand over his mustache and beard. “You met me when I didn't have all this hair on my face."

  "Yes, that alters a person's appearance dramatically. What's your name?"

  "Carl Hopkins."

  Hawkman felt his stomach tighten. “Yes, I remember you now. What are you doing here in Medford?"

  "Looking for Jasmine Louise Gray or Schyler, which ever name she happens to be going by now. I'd like to find her."

  "Why? I'd think you'd prefer to get as far away from that woman as possible."

  He shrugged. “Because, I still love her. And I don't know where she went."

  "She obviously didn't return the feeling. So, I'd advise you to forget the lady and find someone else."

  "I searched the police files on the computer and didn't see anything about her getting arrested over the diamond heist. Did she get away?"

  Hawkman didn't like the feel of these questions and doubted the man still loved Jamey. Carl had an ulterior motive, so Hawkman thought it best to guard his answers and get him out of the office. “I suspect she left the country. No one's seen or heard from her in over a year."

  Carl's eyes narrowed with a threatening gaze. “I have a criminal record. I can't get a job and my life is ruined. All due to Jamey Gray, who got off scott free. Doesn't seem quite fair, does it Mr. Private Investigator?"

  Hawkman stood, prepared to pull his gun from the shoulder holster if necessary. “You made the choice and suffered the consequences. I don't think you can blame anyone but yourself."

  "I got conned into the whole thing. She and that bastard diamond courier set me up."

  "Mr. Hopkins, forget revenge. It will only cause you trouble and you'll end up back in prison."

  Carl rose abruptly and headed for the door. His hand on the knob, he turned and winked at Hawkman. “You tell Jamey to watch her back. Carl's out there. I'm going to find her one way or the other.” He walked out, slamming the door behind him.
r />   Hawkman strolled over to the open window and watched Hopkins climb into an old beat up gray Toyota sitting in front of the donut shop. He grabbed his binoculars off the file cabinet and quickly memorized the license plate. Through the open window, he heard the engine sputter several times before it caught. Then the vehicle limped out of the parking area and onto the street.

  He recalled Jamey referring to Hopkins as a computer hacker and saying he'd taught her how to use the machine. Hawkman wondered if he still had those skills. A year ago, Hopkins wouldn't have found any evidence of Jamey in the Medford area. But now she had a recorded piece of property. Since Jamey's interest in the man revolved around stealing diamonds, he doubted she'd ever confided in him about the house or her late aunt. If Hopkins got on a computer and discovered this information, there'd be no telling how far he might go. It appeared Carl Hopkins had nothing to lose.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Hawkman stood at the window and watched the Toyota until it disappeared from his sight. Hopkins’ apparent instability concerned him. Not only about Jamey's life being threatened, but also Charley's safety.

  Jamey's return to Medford to clear up the title mess appeared imminent. He figured she'd show up within the next two weeks. She'd move quickly, but it might not be fast enough. Her having no clue that Carl Hopkins was in the area, made it even more dangerous than Hawkman cared to think about.

  And even if Hopkins appeared in front of Jamey, she'd never recognize him with the long mop of hair and a beard hiding half his face. But Carl would definitely know her, even if she arrived in disguise. Grisly thoughts ran through Hawkman's mind. Maybe he should speak with Detective Williams about Hopkin's visit so he could put his police force on alert.

  He wrote down the license plate number and description of the Toyota, then went on the internet where he had special access to motor vehicle registrations. After finding the car, which had indeed been registered in Carl Hopkins’ name and purchased from a private party, he printed out the information and tucked it into his pocket.