by Sylvie Kurtz
“I’ll need a picture.”
She stilled, her breath frozen in her chest. Oh no, the photos in the living room! She couldn’t let him see them. She’d have to keep him in the kitchen. She’d have to get rid of him somehow and fast. Exhaling, she turned back to face him. “Later.”
“You won’t talk about the kidnapping. You won’t talk about your marriage. You won’t talk about your daughter. You have to give me something to go on. How can I help you, if you don’t give me the information I need?”
“By leaving.”
“I can’t. Not this time.”
This time? She’d left him.
“What’s a safe topic of conversation then?” he persisted.
“Nothing.”
A long moment of taut silence stretched. “Okay, we’ll talk about me. I got a promotion after solving the Stack Stalk case. Got sent to Miami—the U.S. capital of jewelry thefts. Stayed there for three years, then thought I’d try the executive route. Spent a couple of years in DC. Found out shuffling papers wasn’t really my bag.”
“Can’t imagine why you thought it would.”
He looked up at her. A strange intensity glittered in his eyes. “I’ve been restless, Jewel, wanting something, but not knowing what. I asked for a transfer back to the field. That was about the time the Phantom started making a fool of the Bureau, so they sent me to Boston.”
“The Phantom?”
“Briana’s kidnapper. He’s like a crow—can’t get enough of shiny jewels. Doesn’t matter that they belong to someone else. He’s in and out like a ghost.”
“Has he kidnapped before?”
“No, this is a first. But he’s always played games. A clue here. A taunt there.”
“How can you be sure it’s him?”
He took a long breath in, let it out slowly, and speared her with a look of certainty. “Because.”
That frustrating “because” again. She could understand why he had mentions of warnings as well as letters of praise in his file. How could a superior deal with ephemeral gut feelings? How could a woman with a child’s life on the line? “I just want my little girl back, Lucas. I want her safe in my arms. I want to read her a bedtime story, sing her a lullaby, play with her in the park. I want her to know how much I love her.”
“You’ll have all that again.”
His promise shone warm and undeniable in his eyes. Once given, he would do everything in his power to keep his word. And oh, how she wanted to believe him, how she wanted to walk into his arms and let him hold her, let him sway her into presuming everything would turn out well. But she couldn’t. Too much stood between them, too much was at stake.
“I want you to leave before it’s too late,” she said, surprising herself with the calm resolve in her voice.
Lucas stood his ground. “He’ll call.”
Before Juliana could insist, the phone’s shrill chime resounded in the kitchen. Lucas tensed, shifted from friend to predator. He got up and headed toward the phone on the wall. She clenched the portable phone in her hand.
At Lucas’s prearranged signal, they both picked up their respective extensions.
Chapter 3
“Do you have it?”
Although he’d just heard the Phantom’s voice on Juliana’s tape, it didn’t sound as Lucas had expected. From the profile and from instinct, he’d known the thief was educated, a white male in his late thirties. His crimes were organized, planned down to the last detail. But his voice in real time sounded both older and younger, and—in direct contrast to his controlled crimes—it warbled with barely contained lust.
Excitement like that of a hound on a fresh scent flashed through Lucas. He tamped down his urge to act, and focused instead on the task.
Get into his mind. Listen and learn.
The Phantom had to make a mistake sometime. And Lucas would be right there to catch him.
Juliana twined her fingers into the edge of a lemon slice placemat. “Briana—”
“Is fine. We’ll have lunch in a few minutes. She’s requested a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. Which do you think she’d prefer? Strawberry or black cherry?”
Juliana frowned. “St-strawberry.”
“That’s what I thought. We will also have fruit, so you needn’t worry about proper nutrition. Now, about the Nadyenka Sapphire, do you have it?”
“Don’t you know already?” Juliana asked, her voice vinegary. Impatience stamped the fidgety movement of her foot, swinging back-and-forth under the kitchen table. She wanted to cut to the chase, and he couldn’t blame her, but the tactic wouldn’t work with this man. “I thought you were watching my every move.”
Lucas threw her a warning glance. Now was not the time to rile the Phantom. For all his expertise at making precious gems disappear, the thief possessed a brittle ego. Seeing red like a steaming bull, he could act before his better judgment prevailed, then she could lose everything.
“You’re right, I do know.” He laughed a small, prideful chuckle. “Is it there, in front of you?”
“Yes.” She reached across the table for the brooch. She hadn’t looked at the Nadyenka Sapphire since she’d stolen it. Now as she fingered the royal brooch, her eyes filled with reluctant admiration.
Her face had turned paler than snow, emphasizing the bruise-like half-moons below her eyes. The long fingers of her hands showed the beauty of the bone below the skin. Her shoulders hunched forward, framing her heart like protective wings. He wanted to go to her, hold her, reassure her everything would turn out all right.
But for all her delicate features, Juliana was no fragile flower. A stiffness to her spine gave the impression she wouldn’t shrink in the face of adversity. This woman could stand on her own. Maybe that was her flaw, too. She hadn’t needed him all those years ago. Maybe if she had, he wouldn’t have let her go so easily.
“Tell me about it,” the Phantom said, making Lucas realize his attention had slipped. He pushed away from the counter, squared his stance.
“The brooch is about three inches across, by two inches wide,” Juliana said, her voice steady and professional. He couldn’t take his gaze from her face. He couldn’t stop his fascination for the shifting of color in her eyes from gray to blue. “Each edge of the offset rectangle is rounded with filigree goldwork—”
“No, no,” the Phantom interrupted. “I already know what it looks like. Tell me about the stones.”
She flinched at his harsh tone, but kept going. “There’s a column of amethyst baguettes on either side of the center sapphire. Each column is accentuated by a white diamond trillion on the lower third. On the leaf curl, at each of the four points, there’s a round brilliant-cut diamond.”
The Phantom moaned his approval. “How big?”
“I’ll need a calculator.”
“Get one!”
When Juliana stood up and nearly tripped over her own shadow, Lucas realized how shaky her composure was, how hard she was working to hold herself together. She has guts to spare.
When she reached past his hip, he shifted his weight. Fingers trembling, she searched through the drawer’s odds and ends. A roll of twine tumbled onto the floor. Neither of them made a move to retrieve it.
He caught her hand, felt the quiver of her fingers against his palm, and offered her a squeeze of reassurance. She yanked her hand away. He cupped her chin and moved it up until their gazes intercepted and mimed taking in a deep breath. She nodded and imitated him, then snatched a ruler and a calculator from the depths of the drawer, and returned to her seat at the table.
This was crazy. He was on the verge of catching the Phantom and all he could think about was Juliana and relieving her distress. He straightened, turned toward the wall, keeping her clear in his side vision, and focusing on the thief.
Punching in numbers, she did a quick calculation. “About one and a half carat each.”
“Hmm.” The sound was dark, gruff, appreciative. Lucas tensed, listening more closely, not to the contents of
the conversation, but to the underlying shades of meaning. For the thief, the stones were a living thing.
“Go on,” the Phantom urged.
Juliana, too, had heard the definite smoky quality of the Phantom’s voice. Her gaze met his across the kitchen. Alarm flashed in her eyes—no doubt for her baby’s safety. A fierce protective instinct shot through him, but he couldn’t respond to it. She’d already distracted him too much. He nodded encouragement. She took in a long breath and continued.
“Between the columns and the center blue sapphire there are half a dozen golden roses filled with a ruby heart. Hang on.” She calculated again. “About a carat each. Pearls—”
“Tell me about the sapphire.” The Phantom breathed heavily, his excitement unmistakable. “Is it truly Kashmir?”
She looked up at Lucas for confirmation. He nodded. “The blue is unmistakable.”
After a moment of silence, the Phantom cleared his throat. “Tell me more. The flaw, is it visible?”
She searched the surface, but Lucas knew she wouldn’t find it. The Phantom wasn’t the only one who could play games.
“No, I don’t see it at all,” she said, eyebrows scrunched as she probed each prong in search of the supposed chip. “But it could be hidden behind one of the prongs.”
“Good, good. Go on.”
She hesitated, and looked at him with an unsure expression on her face.
Lucas mouthed, “Keep him talking.”
With each question the Phantom asked, Lucas got a deeper an insight into his psyche. This thief was a strange creature. He took the delight of a child in making a lunch for Briana. When he appreciated the Sapphire, he sounded like a teenager in the middle of hot and heavy action at Lover’s Lane. Yet his plans, except for their criminal bent, were intricate, logically thought out and executed—like a well-grounded adult’s.
“The stone is cut in a cushion shape,” Juliana said.
“The color, Miss Shales, tell me more about the color.”
She moved to the sink, snapped open the curtains, and turned on the fluorescent light above it. Buffing the stone with a kitchen towel to bring out its brilliance, she peered into its surface.
“Exquisite. A deep blue cobalt—like a bottle of Vick’s VapoRub. The texture is rich, velvety. It practically glows. Truly a magnificent stone.” She turned the brooch this way and that, to catch more of the light. “The distinctive Kashmir growth zones are clearly visible—sharp, widely spaced, and straight.”
“The size, Miss Shales,” the Phantom said, panting.
She punched numbers into her calculator again. “About sixty-five carats.”
A deep groan of pleasure trebbled on the other side of the line. “A truly royal stone.”
Like a breeze carrying in a new scent from an open window, the atmosphere thickened.
“Do you know its origin, Miss Shales?” The slow, lazy, sensual modulation of the Phantom’s voice had shifted to goading starch. Almost as if he wants to make up for a lapse. A weakness to exploit? But what that weakness was, Lucas couldn’t guess. He’d have to review the tape later.
“Only what I read in the article you sent.”
“Ah, then, you still have mysteries to uncover. And you, Special Agent Vassilovich, do you understand the gift I’m giving you?”
Juliana’s head snapped up to meet his gaze. Fear electrified her eyes, drained what little color remained from her skin. Lucas tightened his jaw, held still. How had the Phantom known? He silently cursed. Had he let Juliana distract him enough to betray himself somehow? He held his breath, made no response, but a small shake of his head.
“It’s all right. I know you’re there. I’d rather hoped you would show.”
Still Lucas said nothing, calling the Phantom’s bluff. He was running out of cards, and his foe held the winning hand once again.
“A strong stone, that’s what the sapphire is,” the Phantom said. “Nothing more reliable than gems. Too bad a heart doesn’t have the same capacity for durability. Don’t you agree?”
“When do I get Briana back?” Juliana asked.
In the silence, came the slow, low tolling of bells. Not church bells, Lucas realized, but the kind that usually connected to a clock. Some of the small towns in the area still marked the hour with a town hall tower, including Aubery. Some, but not all, narrowing the field of investigation.
“You’ll understand one day that my actions are not as cruel as they seem,” the Phantom said. “I give back as much as I receive.”
What did he mean by that? Part of his regular taunts? Lucas scrubbed a hand through his hair.
Juliana hung on to the phone with both hands. Her fingers white from their effort, her face drawn tight. “Briana—”
“Tomorrow. I’ll call with further instructions.”
“No!” She stood up, knocking her chair backward. “You said this would all be over by tonight.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I need to see to a few things before I trade one gem for another.”
“She—”
“Good day, Miss Shales, Special Agent Vassilovich.”
“No!” When the Phantom hung up, Juliana slammed the phone down on the table top. “This is your fault! I told you he’d know you were here. I told you you were making things worse.”
Lucas forced himself to put the phone back on its hook gently. She was angry. She had every right. He went to her, gathered her in his arms. She whirled out of his grasp to stand in the middle of the floor. “Don’t touch me. Leave me alone. Go.”
He hooked his thumbs into his pants pocket. As usual, the Phantom had proved in control. While he, Lucas, had been out of sorts—and it was costing him dearly. But this conversation with the Phantom had reinforced his feeling the thief wanted something more than the Nadyenka Sapphire from this little game. Now was not the time to press his point. Juliana was tired, angry, and worried.
“I have things to do to get ready for tomorrow,” Lucas said. He flicked away the nagging sense of betrayal. Information was the soul of any investigation and he needed more.
“No.” She grasped his arms, her fingers digging deep into his biceps even through his shirt and jacket. “I said I don’t want your help. So help me God, if I lose my daughter because of your interference, I’ll… I’ll—”
“You’ll what, Juliana?” he challenged, understanding the helplessness of the situation made her rash.
She turned away from him, stood still, every inch of her under stern control. And he wanted to touch her, crack that control, find the yielding Juliana of his relentless dreams.
“Just go, Lucas.” Over her shoulder, she shot him a pleading look. “Please. No FBI big guns. No swarm of agents. It’s my baby we’re talking about.”
“They can be discreet.” He righted the downed chair.
“They’ll ruin everything if he sees them.”
“He won’t.”
She shook her head slowly, sadly. “Just like he didn’t know you were there?”
His fingers itched to hold her close and reassure her. He rubbed his palms against his khakis to scratch away the urge. “Whether you realize it or not, I’ve become part of this equation. He wants the Sapphire, but he wants something else, too. Something from me. He’s made this a personal game. He won’t let this be just an even exchange.”
“You’re wrong.”
He headed for the garage door. “Think about it. I’ll be back.”
“You don’t have a car.”
“I’m taking yours. I’ll get it back to you later this afternoon.”
“He’ll see you.”
“He already knows I’m here.” Lucas started to reach for her, saw her draw her arms around her torso like a barricade, and changed his mind.
Her eyes flickered like a summer storm. “What if he calls?”
“Not until morning,” he said reassuringly.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because—”
“Not this time.” Pure ice.
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“He said he wouldn’t.”
She scoffed. “A noble thief?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Lucas. I don’t need your help.”
He was used to resistance. It was a part of his job. Crooks didn’t want to go to jail. Witnesses didn’t want to get involved. Paper-shuffling bureaucrats didn’t want to take risks. “Maybe, but we have unfinished business. We need to talk.”
She looked away. “Not today. Not tomorrow.”
“Soon.”
Her shoulders hitched up. “Go.”
No point in forcing the issue now. Better to take a step back and wait. His failing last time had been in not pursuing Julianna. He wasn’t the type to make the same mistake twice. He’d give her some breathing room, time to think. He’d give himself time to recover his legendary self-control. Then he’d return. And when her baby was home again, they would talk.
He’d tamed her once; he could do it again. This time, he’d make her see she needed him—as much as he needed her.
“I’ll be back.”
* * *
“I’m home!”
The slamming of the front door and the unexpected voice reached him just as he shut off the cell phone and reset the stopwatch. She’s early.
His hands still shook from the vivid description Juliana Shales had given him of the stones forming the Nadyenka Sapphire. Pearls, half a dozen rubies, four diamonds, and of course, the Kashmir sapphire. With stones so cleverly cut, so pure and true, surely their worth, their power, would exceed his expectations. A king’s ransom. His blood flowed hot, his skin flushed, his breath turned to fire.
“Where are you?” she called from the hallway.
“In the living room,” he said. He slipped the phone in his jacket pocket, tightened the knot of his tie, and straightened the lie of his slacks. With brisk steps, he headed toward her, intent on deflecting her course. He couldn’t let her go upstairs. Not yet. He had to get rid of her somehow—and fast. He’d told Briana he’d be gone for only a few minutes to fix them a sandwich for lunch. Children, even this one, weren’t patient.