Silver Sparks

by Starr Ambrose

  He picked up a sharply pointed tooth, larger than the palm of his hand, from an extinct megalodon shark. He turned it idly as he spoke. “I heard she applied for a research assistant position. Sounds like a smart move—if she can get it, of course.”

  Beside her eye, a tiny muscle began to twitch. “Mr. Jameson, you need to leave. Now.”

  He ran his thumb over the serrated edge of the tooth. “This is a nice piece.”

  “They’re especially popular with lawyers.”

  Cool amusement touched his mouth for a second, then was gone. He made his way toward the door as she concentrated on not bursting out of her skin with impatience. “Good-bye, Miss Larkin. Perhaps I’ll see you again soon.”

  Her only response was a stony stare, which didn’t seem to bother him in the least, and did little to ease the prickle of fear he’d raised between her shoulder blades. With a slight nod, he walked out.

  Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and took several deep breaths. Then she called Sophie.

  Her sister seemed preoccupied, so she got right to the point. “Sophie, did you apply for a research assistant position?”

  Sophie hesitated. “Who told you that?”

  “The De Lucas’ lawyer. Is it true?”

  This time she heard a heavy sigh. “I didn’t get it.”

  Clammy sweat suddenly dotted her forehead and upper lip. “Because of me? They can’t deny you a position because of something your sister did!”

  “They didn’t. Not exactly.” She heard the reluctance in Sophie’s voice. “Maggie, my grad advisor called and asked what I’d done to piss off the De Lucas. Apparently they made a big donation to fund his proposed research project, with one stipulation.”

  The sick feeling in her stomach congealed into a rock. “That he couldn’t hire you.”

  “Right.” Her voice turned bitter. “And he didn’t have any choice, because the asshole chairman of the department had already accepted the money.”

  “Shit,” Maggie swore viciously. Sophie, untouched by scandal, had aspired to far more than either she or Zoe. The two of them had wasted several years living down to expectations, but Sophie had followed an ambitious career plan since high school. They were enormously proud of her accomplishments. Now the De Lucas were ripping away any further opportunities.

  “I’m so sorry, Sophie.”

  “Don’t be.” Her sister’s voice was surprisingly harsh. “I want you to destroy that bastard, Maggie. And I want to help.”

  She’d do everything possible to keep Sophie away from anyone connected to the De Luca family. “Thanks, I’ll let you know if I need you.”

  She hung up, sure of one thing: the only way to keep Sophie out of it was to keep the De Lucas focused on something else. She’d had an idea about how to do that earlier, while thinking about how much Rick Grady hated the De Lucas. Others in Barringer’s Pass felt the same way. But some of the residents obviously felt as Mrs. Anders did, that the De Lucas provided employment for many people around here. Those people would hate her for rocking that boat.

  Her idea depended on a good number of people actively and publicly disliking the De Lucas. Or a small number of the right people. It was a huge gamble, but it might work if done right.

  The reluctant thought occurred that she still needed Cal’s approval. She might do it regardless, but she’d come to respect his knowledge and experience.

  As if aware that she might be considering another independent plan, he walked in through the back room, trailed by a short girl with neon-blue and brown hair. Amber turned in a circle as she walked forward, trying to take in everything at once, giving Maggie a chance to look her over.

  Not a girl, she corrected, assessing the mature figure and makeup. A sixteen-year-old who could easily pass for twenty-one, and probably did on occasion. Her knit top didn’t quite make it down to her low-slung jeans, and the glimpse of tanned skin in between revealed a pierced navel with a stone that flashed purple in the bright lights. On the back of her neck a tattoo peeked above her scoop-neck sweater, and another farther down disappeared into her jeans. Maggie could only wonder how many she couldn’t see.

  Not what she’d pictured as Cal’s little sister. She bit her cheek to repress the grin that threatened to break out.

  “Amber, this is Maggie,” Cal said.

  The girl turned, settling her curious gaze on Maggie. “Hi,” she offered. Her smile was guarded as her eyes traveled over every inch of Maggie from hair to shoes. She gestured at the wall. “People actually buy this dinosaur stuff?”

  “They actually do.”

  “Huh.” Amber wandered around the large central display counter, lingering over the gemstone rings. “Nice jewelry.”

  “Thanks.” Maggie smiled at Cal, who watched the girl with a slightly puzzled look, as if wondering if he’d possibly picked up a space alien disguised as his sister. She stepped closer to him and spoke in a low voice. “How long since you last saw each other?”

  “Except for the funeral, three years.”

  From age thirteen to sixteen. Her smile got bigger. “Girls change a lot during those years.”

  “No kidding.”

  Amber finished her circuit of the store. “I like the rugs,” she told Maggie, then made a disappointed sound with her tongue. “No clothes, huh?”

  “Sorry.”

  Amber nodded, accepting her misfortune stoically. “At least the jewelry’s cool. Can I try some rings on?”

  Cal frowned. “I don’t think—”

  “Sure.” She cut him off and went behind the counter to unlock the case. “Come around here and show me which ones you want to try.”

  Amber didn’t need encouragement. She dropped the backpack behind the counter and huddled over the display case with Maggie, trying on rings set with everything from common quartz to diamonds. Maggie understood her fascination, having done the same thing herself when she first opened Fortune’s Folly. Lifting out a whole tray, she let Amber try each one, admiring the results along with her as Cal watched, bemused.

  Amber stretched her hand out in front of her, wiggling her fingers under the strong overhead lights. Colored fire flashed from four different rings. “Wicked sparkle,” she approved. “Got anything like this in black?”

  “I have onyx, but you won’t get the sparkle.” She passed her another ring.

  Amber took one off and slid the new one on, holding her hand out. “Mad fresh!”

  Smiling, Maggie glanced at Cal to see what he thought of his sister’s assessment.

  He was no longer watching them. Gray eyes focused on the front window, intent on something outside. As she watched, his expression changed to concern, then alarm. A shiver slid down her spine—Cal didn’t worry without reason. She turned to see what he was looking at, but barely had time for a glance. He was suddenly in motion, rushing toward them, yelling, “Get down!”

  Amber looked up, confused. Maggie had a brief glimpse of headlights before Cal threw himself on top of them, dragging them down to the floor behind the display counter. Even as she ducked, her mind worked to make sense of what she’d seen. Two headlights. Headlights were normal; all the cars had their lights on in the gloom of the early-evening snowstorm. But the lights that had pinned her in their bright glare had been pointing right at her. That wasn’t possible. Before she could figure it out, the world exploded with a ground-shaking crash.

  A deafening roar filled her ears. Shattered glass rang as it flew into the display case and clattered against stone fossils. A blast of cold air swirled in, chilling her even as she huddled beneath the shelter of Cal’s body. He pulled them close and held on until the world stopped shaking and glass stopped raining down. The roaring went on and on, filling her ears, as if a beast had broken down the walls and stood inside the store, bellowing its anger.

  Cal lifted his head. Maggie wiggled out from under him, standing cautiously.

  Cold air and snowflakes hit her face. The front window was gone.

  The store lay open
to the snowy sidewalk and the cars that had stopped in the street. She could barely see them. The view was blocked by a huge black truck with a snow blade that sat half in and half out of her store. Its diesel engine roared as if the accelerator was stuck, while steam hissed from beneath the hood. The eight-foot blade hovered over shards of pottery, dripping slush. One front wheel spun, held aloft by the low brick wall that had caught the undercarriage of the truck just in front of the rear axle. Behind it, the double wheels of the dually pickup blocked the sidewalk.

  Maggie felt dizzy. How many things could go wrong in one day? She wanted to believe it was a freak accident, but knew better. Small hairs rose along the back of her neck.

  As she watched, Cal picked his way past bricks and glass to yank open the driver’s door. He reached inside past the white mass of the inflated air bag, and suddenly the store went quiet as the engine fell dead. Maggie became aware of people yelling in the street. A man stepped right through the missing front window to help Cal as he pulled the dazed driver from the cab of the truck.

  Beside her, Amber stood. Glass crunched beneath her feet. “Shit,” she breathed.

  Maggie didn’t have any better words for it, so she just nodded.

  They both stared for several seconds as people ran out of stores and gathered to gape on the sidewalk outside Fortune’s Folly. A couple more used the front door to come inside.

  “Want me to gather up the jewelry?”

  Maggie looked down. The display case was cracked, and the one next to it was broken wide open. She snapped out of her daze and threw Amber a surprised, grateful look. “I’d really appreciate that.” So would her insurance company, no doubt. “Just grab one of those cardboard boxes under the counter. I’ll help in a minute—I want to see how the driver is.”

  He looked fine, actually, sitting on her glass-covered floor talking to Cal. What she really wanted to know was how it had happened.

  Cal squatted in front of him, questioning him about injuries.

  The man shook his head. “No, no, I’m fine. Just stunned by that air bag. Damn thing packs a punch.” He rubbed gingerly at his bearded cheek where reddened skin showed through beneath the short hairs. A split on his lower lip was already puffing up from what appeared to be a sudden impact with his own incisors, and blood trickled from his nose.

  He looked up at Maggie, taking in her skirt and heels. “You the owner?”

  She nodded, hugging herself against the cold air.

  “I’m really sorry about this. I guess I hit a patch of ice, ’cause the damn truck wouldn’t stop. Skidded right across the other lane and over the sidewalk. I’m just glad no one was walking by at the time.”

  “So am I,” she assured him.

  He looked around, as if noticing the damage for the first time. His eyes widened with shock at the magnitude of what he’d done. “I got insurance,” he told her.

  “You must have been going pretty fast,” Cal said.

  “Twenty-five, that’s the speed limit,” the guy said, looking Cal directly in the eye. “But I hit that ice and, man, the son of a bitch just flew. Couldn’t stop it. You know how it is with those icy patches.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Cal stood. Someone else knelt in front of the man, asking if he was sure he was okay, and the driver began repeating his story. In the distance, Maggie heard sirens approaching.

  Cal grabbed her elbow and pulled her aside. He took a long look at her, forehead creased with concern. “How are you? Are you okay?”

  She nodded. Words seemed too difficult to form.

  “Amber?”

  Another nod. “She’s fine.”

  He glanced at Amber, on her knees behind the counter, picking up handfuls of jewelry, then back at Maggie. The lines on his forehead didn’t ease. She wondered if he was even aware that he rubbed her arm and back as they stood there, as if reassuring himself that she was all in one piece. It reassured her, anyway, and she didn’t want him to stop.

  “He’s lying,” he finally said in a low voice.

  “What?” The ominous prickling touched her neck hairs again.

  “The driver. He never tried to stop. I watched him turn off Tannery onto Division and accelerate. He never straightened out, just headed at an angle across the other lane and straight for the front of the store. He had to have floored it.”

  She stared at the driver, who was repeating his story to the owner of Carly’s Café, then back at Cal. “You’re sure he did it on purpose?”

  He nodded.

  She didn’t question it, since it only confirmed what she’d felt in her gut. But it didn’t make sense. “I don’t even know that guy.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.” Cal’s eyes held hers. “How long do you figure before you can open the store again?”

  The question seemed like an abrupt segue, but she tried to answer. She looked at the truck sitting in her display window and the shattered glass and merchandise all over the front of the store. Insurance claim, cleanup, repairs, ordering new merchandise . . . She swallowed her dismay. “Best scenario, several weeks.”

  “Know anyone who might be happy about that?” He nodded as she reached the obvious conclusion. “Exactly. What do you want to bet I find a connection between that driver and the De Lucas?”

  Chapter

  Eight

  He didn’t want to leave her alone. Who knew what could happen? As cautious as he’d been, he hadn’t anticipated a truck plowing into her store. What if she’d been near the front window instead of behind the display case? Sweat beaded his forehead just thinking about it.

  He looked around Maggie’s small living room again, as if a De Luca bodyguard might be crouched behind the wingback chair, just waiting for him to leave.

  “You checked the whole house. I’ll be fine, Cal.”

  Amber sat on the small couch, watching the two of them, waiting to see how he’d handle it. She’d been watching them all evening, as if she was trying to figure out their relationship. Well, good luck, kid. So was he.

  “I still don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone,” he told Maggie.

  “I’m hardly alone. We must have had at least ten vehicles following us up here. They’re probably setting up TV cameras in my front yard as we speak, hoping I’ll put on my boots and parka and step outside for a late-night interview.”

  Ten was an exaggeration, since they’d lost a few vans on the hilly streets that led to her house. They’d make it eventually, though.

  He scowled. “Reporters aren’t going to protect you, Maggie. They’d be overjoyed to film an attack on you, but they aren’t here to stop one.”

  They’d been over it before, so she just sighed. “Exactly what is it you think might happen?”

  “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s what worries me. What will they try next? This has gone way beyond what I’d expect in response to a tabloid story.”

  She flopped into a chair. “Well, I agree with you there. I had the same thought when I talked to that lawyer, Jameson. How can they be this upset over one little scuffle in a bar? In fact, I’ll bet you anything the show’s ratings go up because of all the publicity. I even had to let him know that you had nothing to do with it, because he specifically mentioned you, too.” She laid her head back wearily and closed her eyes.

  An icy feeling crept over him, freezing him in place. “He mentioned me?”

  She dismissed it with a tired wave. “You know, as my supposed boyfriend. As in, ‘you and your boyfriend’ have to stop harassing the De Lucas.”

  “Oh, shit,” Cal groaned.

  She cracked her eyelids. “What?”

  “They know. They must have found out I’m a cop,” he explained.

  She sat up, looking confused. “How do you figure?”

  “The tabloids just tagged me as your boyfriend, which makes me pretty inconsequential. The De Lucas don’t care what your boyfriend does. They do care about some cop sniffing around. Now all their extreme mea
sures make sense. This isn’t about your fight with Rafe, Maggie. Not anymore. It’s about you and me asking questions about Rachel Anders and Tara Kol­inowski. They don’t like it, and they just told us to stop.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Oh, crap.”

  Amber sat up straighter. “Who are those girls? What have you two been doing?”

  Her sharp look of interest sent another surge of ice water washing through him. Shit, shit, shit! He’d drawn the attention of the De Lucas just when his little sister happened to blow into town. His only surviving little sister. No matter what, he had to keep them unaware of her presence in Barringer’s Pass.

  “Rachel and Tara are two women who disappeared from this area. The local police never looked at Rafe as a suspect, but my guess is that one or both met the same fate as Julie.”

  She jumped to her feet. “Can you prove it? Can we nail his ass?”

  “Not yet.” He looked at Maggie. “But I’d say we’re on the right track if the De Lucas want us to back off.”

  “Good!” Amber looked ready to spring into action. “Let’s do more of whatever it is you’ve been doing. How can I help?”

  “You can’t.” He could tell she didn’t like his tone, and he couldn’t care less. “You aren’t involved, Amber, and you’re not going to get involved.”

  She glared. “I sure as hell am involved. Julie was my sister. If that putrid little fucker killed her, I have the right to personally kick his balls up his ass.”

  He didn’t react to her language. Some things transcended the rules of propriety, and he figured having your sister murdered was one of them. “I understand how you feel, Amber, and I don’t blame you. But the De Lucas are dangerous.”

  “I don’t care!”

  God, couldn’t he have one woman in his life who was meek and obedient for a change?

  He put his hands on Amber’s shoulders, getting in her face. “Amber, listen to me. This is serious. You saw what happened to Maggie’s store tonight. Do you realize how it might have turned out if any one of us had been closer to the window?” He gave her a moment to think about mangled limbs and bleeding bodies. Her mouth set in a stubborn line as she stared back, unconvinced.