It was true. Women ate up that big, lopsided grin, especially when it was combined with his former bad boy life of crime, which Rocky always admitted to. His burglary skills were his credentials. Between his expertise at advising clients on the best security systems and Ellie’s skills at planning and organization, their fledgling security business was booming.
Janet pointed toward her car, parked a couple spaces away, to keep Ellie talking as they walked. “It’s not hard; you just need to be an extra set of hands, then set up any appointments. I’d ask Lisa, but she can’t get a sitter at night. I canceled everything else for the next two weeks, but I can’t get out of this one. I know you’re busy trying to reestablish Aims Air Freight, but—”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Janet relented with a groan. She started the car. “I’m not going to keep my best friend from her honeymoon.”
Her racing heart sounded louder than the engine.
Five minutes later, Janet could feel Ellie studying her as she drove. “You know, he doesn’t feel the same way about you. He thinks you’re great,” Ellie said.
Oh, she knew. Better than she’d ever let on. He hadn’t made it a secret, and resisting a devilishly cute, smooth-talking hunk of man went against some basic instinct that she had to stomp down every time she saw him.
“If you didn’t already know him, I’d introduce you, because I think you two would be great together. Did you know he’s nearly at the top of his class in law school? Smart guy. Plus he’s cute, and funny, and he loves kids. Like you.”
Another perfect man. Although Rocky was possibly the real thing—unlike her ex-husband, who had hidden a psychopath’s personality behind the guise of perfection. She’d paid a big price for her little lapse in judgment, so big that she didn’t know if she could ever trust her gut again. If only Banner had come with the warning, “Willing to screw you over to get what I want,” she could have saved herself a lot of time and heartache.
Ellie was still watching her with a bemused expression.
“Stop matchmaking, El. You found the only perfect guy out there, and I’m willing to settle for watching from the sidelines.”
“Jack is perfect,” she agreed. “And no, you aren’t.”
Trust a best friend to point out when you’re lying. “Stop being a pain in the butt and tell me about this honeymoon of yours. Where are you going to go?”
Ellie took the hint and started talking about her trip. It kept them occupied until they got to Ellie’s house.
Janet pulled in the driveway behind Jack, who was standing beside his car with a well-built, tanned man in a Hawaiian shirt and cutoff shorts. Rocky.
“Crap.”
Ellie laughed.
Not saying hello would be rude. Janet was willing to tarnish her reputation and bolt, but Ellie took her sweet time getting out of the car, long enough for Rocky to stroll over to the driver’s side. Not opening the window would be beyond rude, and it would make Ellie mad. Crap again.
She hit the power switch and ordered herself to relax. Rocky waited for the glass to lower all the way, then folded his arms on the open window and leaned down. His dark eyes were level with hers, and he was close enough for her to appreciate the thick lashes that any woman would have envied.
“Hey, Janet.” His mouth curved into the lopsided smile she’d prepared for, but something still tripped in her chest.
“Hi.”
“Still avoiding me?”
Heat threatened to creep up her neck to her face. “Still deluding yourself that everything I do revolves around you?”
“Interesting fantasy.” His gaze wandered over her for several seconds while she tried not to squirm. “Nice haircut. It looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled, unable to stop the automatic response good manners demanded. Damn her proper upbringing. “I thought you liked long hair.” It was the only defiant thought that came to mind.
His smile grew. “Is that why you cut it?”
“No!” This time she felt the blush reach her cheeks and was furious at her own reaction. The idea that cutting her hair had anything to do with him was absurd, but he always seemed to keep her off balance. She needed to take the lead instead of letting him manipulate the conversation. “I just learned I’m filling in for Ellie at some demonstration you’re doing tomorrow night. Can you give me the time and place?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I’ll meet you there,” she protested. But when Rocky moved his hand and she felt his fingers brush her cheek, her words faltered.
“A mosquito,” he explained. “If we use one car we’ll save gas. It’s ecologically responsible.”
He knew her well enough to throw out the one reason she wouldn’t argue with. No doubt Ellie had been talking about her. “Fine.” She looked pointedly at his shirt. “Are you dressing like that?”
He feigned surprise. Glancing at the shirt, one of several that made up what Ellie called his “surfer dude” look, he asked, “Is there something wrong with pineapples and palm fronds?”
She considered the loud yellow-and-green pattern. “I’m gonna go with yes.”
He looked amused. “Don’t worry, tomorrow night I will wear what proper Bloomfield Hills ladies expect me to wear.”
That meant something conservative and expensive. She had a wardrobe full of that. “Okay, I’ll be ready.”
“I can come early if you’d like. We can practice.”
She recognized the unspoken meaning, but was annoyed that she didn’t flush at the thought. “No, thanks. I don’t need practice.”
He winked. “Good to know. See you tomorrow.”
Arrogant jerk. He stepped back as she jammed the car into reverse. She barely remembered to wave at Ellie and Jack before speeding off.
Rocky strolled back up the driveway. Jack watched his wife’s rear end appreciatively as she walked to the house before turning his attention back to the matter at hand. Digging into his pocket, he handed the house keys to Rocky. “Ellie said you only have to water the plants once.”
Uh-huh. That wasn’t the thought behind that carefully neutral expression. “And what did she say about Janet?”
Jack’s mouth quirked upward, obviously unperturbed at relaying his wife’s message. “That you shouldn’t rush her.”
“Who’s rushing? I’ve known her a year.”
Jack leaned against the car and folded his arms. “Yeah, I was there when you met. You decided you wanted her after knowing her two whole hours. You don’t call that rushing?”
“This from the man who got engaged after knowing a woman—what? Two minutes?”
Jack’s composure slipped into a slight frown. “That doesn’t count. It wasn’t real for at least a week.” Seeing Rocky’s smile, he apparently thought better of using the details of his impromptu engagement to Ellie as a shining example of restraint. “Come on, Rocky. Ellie has a point. I know you’re putting your life back together. You’ve done a good job of it, too, starting the business with Ellie and going to law school. But you don’t have to have everything all at once. You can’t just go out and get an instant wife and family.”
“What family? Janet doesn’t have kids. And I’m not looking to marry her, just be with her. Minus her clothes.” Crude guy humor was safer than admitting the truth, that he just might want something more with this woman.
Jack snorted. “It doesn’t all happen that fast just because you want it to. And you can’t expect her to accommodate your accelerated schedule.”
“Overlooking the fact that it happened exactly that fast for you, I have to repeat, I’ve known Janet for a year. Hell, I knew her six months before I even kissed her. That’s beyond patient for me. I’ve never even had a relationship that lasted that long.”
Jack’s brow lifted. “You kissed her?”
“You mean it wasn’t a household news flash? She didn’t tell Ellie? Those two talk about everything.”
Jack waved it off. “I’m sure she told Ellie. But n
o one told me. When did this happen?”
He didn’t even question his friend’s intrusion on what he might normally consider private business. He’d met Jack in jail, where privacy was nearly impossible and personal issues were discussed openly. Jack Payton was closer to him than his own brother. “Here, at your New Year’s Eve party.”
Jack made a scoffing noise. “New Year’s kisses don’t count.”
“It wasn’t like that. And believe me, this one counted.”
Jack gave it a moment’s consideration. “Still, I gotta trust Ellie on this. You might be moving too fast. If she’s not ready, you’ll blow it.”
It was a valid point. Janet had been uncertain and scared after her disastrous marriage to Banner. But her confidence was back now: She laughed a lot and had plans for her future. He needed her to know he wanted to be part of that future.
“I think she likes me.”
“Right. That’s why she acts like she wants nothing to do with you.”
He looked down the street toward where Janet’s car had disappeared, smiling as he thought about it. “That’s what I’m hoping.”
Chapter
Two
It was unusual for her doorbell to ring on a Tuesday morning while she was getting ready for work. It was even more unusual to find two uniformed police officers on her front porch.
“Are you Janet Aims?”
She glanced at their photo IDs and blinked in confusion. “Yes, I am. What can I do for you?”
“May we come in?”
Her gaze automatically flicked past them to the lawn outside her condo. Sprinklers swished across green lawns, and someone walked by with a dog, glancing curiously at the patrol car, then at the officers in her doorway. “Sure.” She stood aside and closed the door behind them, suddenly filled with dread. Didn’t the police always want to talk to you in private when they delivered bad news?
“Did something happen? Was there an accident?” Her mind raced through the possibilities before they could answer. Her parents lived in Arizona—could there have been a medical emergency? Her pulse shot up. Or Elizabeth, who seemed perfectly healthy, but was getting to that age when . . . Oh, God! Ellie and Jack were getting on a plane today. But it wouldn’t have left yet, would it? Her mind whirled and her stomach tightened, bracing for bad news. One of them spoke, but her frantic pulse was so loud in her ears she didn’t catch what he said.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She gripped her hands together to keep them from shaking.
The officer—Furley, according to his name badge— spoke more slowly. “Miss Aims, did you sell some pieces of jewelry yesterday at Portman’s Jewelers?”
“What?” She must have looked as dumbfounded as she sounded. Relief washed through her like a cool wave as she tried to concentrate on what he’d said. “Yes. Yes, I did. Why?”
He pulled a piece of paper from an inner pocket in his jacket, unfolding it to reveal a picture. “Do you recognize this?”
One corner of the white paper showed a computer-generated digital picture. But not that of the diamond ring she expected to see. Instead, it was the pearl-studded chain and the ugly gold pendant with the embedded red stone. Curiosity was overcoming surprise as she met the officers’ expressionless gazes. “Yes, that’s my necklace. I mean, it was. I sold it to Mr. Portman.”
Furley shot a quick glance at the other policeman, making Janet tense up. “What’s wrong? Has there been a robbery or something?” Not that it should involve her, but maybe Mr. Portman needed her to verify his inventory.
Something flickered in Furley’s eyes and he looked more alert. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I don’t know why you would ask me to identify the necklace, unless to verify that Portman’s had it.”
But that wasn’t it, she could tell from his blank expression. Another thought struck her—what if Mr. Portman had discovered that it wasn’t nearly as valuable as he’d thought, and wanted his money back? Would he call the police for that?
No, of course not. But the thought did nothing to allay her heart-pounding panic. There was still something wrong, and the police had come to her house, looking stern and implacable. That couldn’t be good.
When Furley didn’t say anything, she tried a direct approach. “Why are you asking me about the necklace?”
“Miss Aims, how did you acquire the necklace?”
The same thing Portman had asked.
“My ex-husband gave it to me for my birthday. I don’t know where he bought it. I already told Mr. Portman all this.” If she knew what they were getting at, she could be more helpful, not to mention a whole lot less nervous. It was amazing how being questioned by the police had a way of making a simple transaction sound terrifying.
“Do you have a sales receipt for it?”
“No, it was a gift.”
“Do you usually sell expensive gifts from family members?”
Nerves gave way to annoyance. He’d just hit what was still a very sensitive spot. “No, I don’t. Officer, do you know who my ex-husband is?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do. Banner Westfield, currently awaiting trial on charges of drug running and money laundering.”
“And attempted murder. Of me.” She let it sink in. “And you wonder why I don’t want to keep a memento of our wonderful time together?” She nodded at the picture. “Besides the fact that it’s ugly. Just look at it. Frankly, I don’t know if Portman’s can find a market for it. No one makes necklaces like that anymore.”
“No ma’am, they don’t. Not for the past several hundred years, since the time this one was made.” He held the photo out again.
She gave the picture a careless glance. So it really was an heirloom. Old, but probably cheap, being so unattractive. It wouldn’t be fair to keep the ten thousand dollars, but right now she felt like she deserved something, if only because her breakfast was now a hard lump in her stomach. Maybe fifty dollars. Portman had agreed to buy the thing, after all. “It’s old. So what?”
“The senior Mr. Portman identified it as soon as he saw it. He showed us a detailed drawing of it in a book. The necklace is part of a jewelry collection that was owned by a museum in Germany until it was stolen in”—he looked at something scribbled on the back of the photo—“1788.”
Her uncharitable thoughts about Portman came screeching to a halt. “Wait. It was stolen? From a museum?” She had no idea how Banner ended up buying it more than two hundred years later, but that wasn’t her problem. If it had been stolen, that meant it had to be returned. No one got to keep the necklace. Which meant she couldn’t keep the money. She sighed, prepared to deal with yet another piece of debris from her disastrous marriage.
“It’s not a problem, officer. I’m quite willing to give Mr. Portman his money back. I’ll just rip up the check.”
“Ma’am, you can work that out with Portman’s later. Right now we’d like you to come to the station with us for a talk.”
She nodded, willing to cooperate, but unsure what more she could tell them. “About what?”
“About why you were in possession of priceless stolen jewelry. And why you were so anxious to sell it.” He raised an eyebrow, the first change in his expression. “Just to clear things up.”
Priceless? Janet swallowed, and wasn’t surprised to feel a lump in her throat. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“No, ma’am. But you can call one if you’d like. We’ll wait.”
She reminded herself that innocent people providing information didn’t need lawyers. But she’d seen too much TV to think the facts couldn’t get twisted. “Just give me a couple minutes to make that call.”
But not to her lawyer. The woman had done an excellent job of protecting her against Banner’s legal sharks during their divorce, but had no experience with criminal cases. There was only one person she knew of who understood the ins and outs of the legal system and knew something about stolen jewelry— Rocky Hernandez.
With no windows to let in fresh air, the int
erview room smelled of body odor and stale coffee.
And criminals. She couldn’t help the irrational thought. Her ex-husband had probably sat in this very room with one or two of his high-priced attorneys. This was where they brought their suspects.
They could have talked with her in that bright office she’d passed, but they’d brought her here. Maybe they thought the privacy would make her more relaxed, but it just reminded her that murderers and rapists had sat in this spot before her. Edging forward, she put the smallest possible part of her in contact with her chair.
She nearly jumped up when Rocky came in, followed by Furley and his partner. She half stood, barely having enough time to register her surprise at Rocky’s neatly tailored three-piece suit before he surprised her again by leaning down to give her a brief hug. She realized just how nervous she’d been when she felt herself relax. As they sat, he kept his arm slung across the back of her chair.
“Thanks for coming,” she said.
“No problem.” His hand came up to touch her shoulder and his dark brown eyes crinkled with a reassuring smile before he turned to face the officers across from them. “Let’s just tell them what they want to know, and we’ll be out of here.”
She nodded. The sooner the better.
Furley and his partner were distant but polite as she gave a detailed story of receiving the necklace from Banner, then selling it to Portman’s along with her engagement ring. But it was Rocky’s hand resting lightly on her shoulder that kept her calm and steady. She never realized how much trust and confidence she had in him. Maybe it was the suit. She’d rarely seen him in anything but the ubiquitous Hawaiian shirts and jeans. She barely recognized him.
Unfortunately, it seemed Sergeant Furley did. When she finished talking, it was Rocky who captured his attention. Furley gave him a hard stare that made her shift uncomfortably in her chair again, but Rocky seemed unaffected. “What did you say your name was?”
Thieves Like Us Page 2