by Cox, Sandra
“Mrs. Theron.” He took her frail, small-boned hand gently in his. She gave him an empty smile, her eyes the same color as Kendall’s, though where Kendall’s had the brilliance of emeralds, her mom’s were watered-down. Only when her husband squeezed her hand and caught her glance did the green sharpen and deepen for a moment before the vacant stare was back.
“I know you’re in there, Caro,” Bill murmured. “I’ll never give up on you, love. Never.”
“How long have you been married, Bill?”
“Fifty-one wonderful, stormy years.”
“That’s a long time to be with one woman.”
“Not nearly long enough.” Bill’s fingers slid up Caro’s arm.
“Were you ever tempted to,” he cleared his throat, “look elsewhere.”
“Hell, son—Caroline, pretend you didn’t hear that—I’m in love, not dead. ’Course I looked, but tempted to act on it, never.”
“You’re a very lucky man.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Caroline took Logan’s hand and swung it.
“About how lucky your grandpa is to have your grandmother.”
“She doesn’t act like she knows us but Grandpa said she knows us in her heart.”
“I’m sure she does.” How was it this little family kept presenting him with long lost emotions, the need for a family, closeness to another human being.
He moved around the apartment, while Bill and Caroline visited with Caro. The sitting room had comfortable chairs and the window looked out over a lush garden that even in October still held beauty. From a small side table, he picked up a picture of a younger Bill and Caro and Kendall, in a silver-edged frame. He studied it. A lovely young woman smiled into the camera, vibrant and happy. Kendall was the spitting image of Caro and what a cutie. Even then she’d shown promise of being a heartbreaker.
“That’s my mommy when she was my age.” Caroline pointed at the young Kendall.
“No kidding.” He arched his brows and acted surprised. “I thought that was you.”
“Nope, it’s my mommy.” Caroline giggled, then skipped back to her grandma.
The visit lasted another hour. Even while he chatted his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t get past the coincidence of the Queen hitting another jewelry store on the same weekend Kendall was out-of-town. He might be crazy, but he didn’t believe in coincidences.
Chapter Thirteen
She sat at her desk, her fingers flying over the keyboard, her brow wrinkled in concentration. Dammit, didn’t anything faze the woman? He’d barely gotten five thousand words written since he’d kissed her. His pulse picked up just thinking about it. If it wasn’t so pathetic he’d be laughing at himself.
He’d had affairs too numerous to count and ended up poleaxed by a simple kiss. No, that wasn’t right. There was nothing simple about it and if a lip lock could have that effect he might never survive the sex. She was a lot lustier than her demure manner signified.
The pressure in his head increased, along with the throb in his body. He hadn’t been with a woman since his growing attraction to Kendall and it was damn uncomfortable. And if that wasn’t enough, he was afraid the lady he was falling for might be a jewel thief.
He shoved out of his chair, walked to the window and threw it open. A light rain fell cleansing the air, leaving the scent of damp earth and falling leaves. He breathed deeply. Could this woman driving him so crazy be the Queen of Diamonds? Could the two females he obsessed about be the same person?
He drew his head back in and leaned against the sill. “How was your weekend?”
“Fine.” She didn’t look up.
“How was your friend?”
There was a pause. “Fine. What were you doing at the nursing home?”
Uh-oh. He squared his shoulders. “Your dad and daughter invited me.”
“You could have said no.” Her fingers had left the keyboard and were clenched on the edge of the desk. A white line stood out around her mouth.
“What’s the big deal?”
She turned in the chair, her posture stiff. “The big deal is I don’t want this to be more than a professional relationship.” She jumped out of the chair and walked around the room in long, agitated strides. “And now you’re coming over, wooing my daughter with donuts and poker, and my dad with fishing stories. And on top of that you had no right to visit my mom.”
Blood rushed in and out of her face, and her chest rose and fell in agitation. He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t understand. I know you aren’t ashamed of your mom. Why do you mind me meeting her?”
She jerked away from him. One moment he had his hands on warm vibrating flesh the next he held air.
“I don’t want you in my life.”
His chest tightened. The pain surprised him. In a heartbeat, hurt turned to anger. In three quick strides he was beside her and this time his grip was unbreakable. “You couldn’t prove it by me.” His lips crashed down on hers. For endless seconds she didn’t respond.
The thought that she might not feel what he did tore at him and he deepened the kiss, plunging into the wet warmth of her mouth. And just as suddenly, the tigress was back, leaping at him, now the aggressor. Both fought for dominance as they shifted their positions, neither found it, equal meeting equal on the field of passion.
My God I’m drowning, was his last coherent thought as she drew back long enough to jerk the tight white T-shirt he wore over his head before plunging her tongue in his mouth and scraping her nails down his back. He was fumbling with her blouse when her phone rang.
“Ignore it,” he murmured against the madly beating pulse in her throat. For one more ring she did. On the third ring her body stiffened and she shoved him back. Her breath coming in short sharp gasps she answered with a breathless, “Hello.” A moment later she said, “I’ll get back with you on that.”
When he reached for her, she took a quick step back. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned. Her fingers trembling, she shoved her blouse back into her skirt and buttoned the buttons he’d managed to get open.
“You’re killing me.” His heart was pounding like a jackhammer and all the blood in his body was still in his nether regions.
“People don’t die from celibacy. Trust me I know.” Her eyes widened and she clutched her throat. They stared at each other, the words hanging in the air between them.
He finally tore his gaze away. “I’ve got an appointment. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, lock up when you leave.” He grabbed his T and a shirt on a hanger behind the door before galloping down the stairs, letting the door bang behind him as he left the house and headed for his car. He jumped in, her words ringing in his ears. “People don’t die from celibacy. Trust me I know.”
He downshifted and tore out of the drive. It had been one lie after another. She was either celibate or she was having an affair. Doing both just wasn’t possible.
He shifted gears and headed for the nursing home.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hello, Mr. Brown, I’m Logan Hunter. I really appreciate you working me in. I know running a place like this takes a lot of time.” He made a vague motion encompassing the elegant entryway with its tall windows and expensive paintings before he shook hands with the suit.
“Oh, Mr. Hunter, this is such an honor. Would you like me to show you around?”
“That would be great.”
They walked down a long well-lit corridor, whose sleek designer carpet and discreet wallpaper reminded him of some high-end hotels he’d stayed in.
“Do you have a loved one who may be joining us? We have quite a waiting list.”
“I can certainly see why. From the little I’ve seen, it would be a perfect spot for a senior to spend his or her remaining days.” Through the window was another manicured garden, the walks made from soft-colored sea shells, lined by pink tea roses, still in bloom. Benches, under crape myrtles, were dispe
rsed along the walk.
His grandmother would have liked it here. She loved her crape myrtles. Nostalgia hit him, she was the only one in his family he’d ever been close to and she’d passed when he was ten. He still missed her.
Mr. Brown followed his gaze. “Lovely isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is.” He turned his attention back to Mr. Brown. “I hear you have special grants for this place.”
Mr. Brown gave him a shocked look. “I don’t know where you heard that, sir, but no indeed. Rose Manor is very exclusive.”
A tingling started at the base of his skull and wound its way through his system.
“So none of your current patients are on grants?”
“If they were I couldn’t tell you. But no they aren’t. “Do you mind if I ask your interest in grants for our patients?”
He smiled and shrugged. “Writer’s curiosity.”
The stiff look on Mr. Brown’s round face subsided. “Of course.”
The administrator continued to show him around pointing out areas of interest. It was an amazing place, everything one would want for their parents’ declining years.
“Too bad everyone can’t afford to stay at a place like this.” Logan stared at the big screen TV with a row of theatre chairs and an empty row for wheelchairs surrounding it.
“Yes it is. Although, if that were the case, I’d be out of a job,” the administrator laughed.
We wouldn’t want that. “Okay, if I stick my head in and say hello to Mrs. Theron? I’m a friend of her daughter’s.” Friend might be fabricating a bit but fabrication was what he did for a living.
“Oh, of course. Her daughter is absolutely amazing isn’t she? She always contributes heavily to Alzheimer’s research. Her mother has been given every experimental drug that has come out, but unfortunately it has only managed to slow the inevitable.”
The base of his neck was tingling again. It prickled every time a story started coming together. Only this time the tingling was followed by dread scuttling through his system like the skin-crawling sensation of spider legs. Surely, she wasn’t Queenie, wouldn’t run that risk, not with Caroline. But how else was she getting the money?
He turned to Mr. Brown and held out his hand. “Thanks for showing me around. It’s a wonderful place. I think I’m going to have to put off my visit to Mrs. Theron until later.”
“You never did say, Mr. Hunter, is it a parent you’re looking at Rose Manor for?”
“A distant aunt. But at the moment she’s still doing okay on her own. I just want to be ready when the time comes.”
Mr. Brown’s face fell. “Of course.”
“Well, thanks again.” Logan trotted down the steps and hurried to his car. Maybe Kendall was a pathological liar. He ticked the list off in his head…again: lied about a husband, lied about doing research for him to her family, lied about having an affair. And add to that, lied about the grant. Regardless, he still couldn’t believe Kendall was Queenie. The idea was too farfetched. But then again farfetched was his bread and butter. He had to find out, once and for all whether Kendall was the Queen of Diamonds.
Chapter Fifteen
Kendall stared at the back of her boss’s sleek head. Unease danced in her stomach and had her shifting in her seat. Logan had just been too damn nice lately. No that wasn’t it. She tapped her finger against her desk, noticed what she was doing and stopped. He’d been more politically correct than nice. It’d been three weeks since that sizzling lip lock and he’d made no attempt to repeat it, quite the opposite. That should make her happy, right? It did, she assured herself.
Unfortunately, he had also stopped coming by the house to play poker or spend time with her dad. And while that was a relief, of sorts, for her, it hadn’t made her dad or daughter happy…at all.
She heaved a deep sigh and put her hand on her belly, hoping to stop the jumping around in her gut and relax.
“Are you okay, Ms. Theron?” His voice polite, he didn’t turn around just kept pecking at his keyboard.
“Of course, why do you ask?”
“That heavy sigh.”
“I’m fine. Everything okay with you? How’s the writing going?” She wanted to head slap herself for the babble but couldn’t seem to help herself, which unnerved her even further. She could heist a diamond without a qualm but became a jabbering idiot around her boss.
He turned around and grinned. “The story’s going great. It may be my best ever. I found something I think Queenie would appreciate. Come take a look.”
She forced her stiff limbs up. “You are still going on the diamond heist angle?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m going with the idea I previously mentioned: everyone thinks the famous female burglar, who hasn’t been heard of for the past five years, has come out of retirement and is stealing again, when it’s actually a young man. The readers will eat it up.”
She rubbed her arms to calm herself and forced her uncooperative legs to move forward ’til she was staring over his shoulder at the computer screen.
He had pulled up a diamond that was at a boutique jewelry store in Savannah that she’d heard of but never hit. Saliva pooled in her mouth. The stone was exquisite, a six carat asscher, set in platinum with a hefty price tag. More expensive than anything she’d stolen before.
“What do you think?”
“It looks nice.”
He snorted. “Obviously, Ms. Theron, you are no expert on diamonds.” He glanced at her ears, throat and hands. “In fact, I’ve never seen you wear a diamond.”
She shrugged. “Just not into jewelry.”
“Too bad. You’ve certainly got the neckline for it.” His manner was more offhand than admiring.
She fought back the spurt of irritation. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
“Do I have anything on my calendar for Friday?” His gaze was still on the picture of the diamond.
“Nothing that can’t be shifted. Why?”
“Bambi wants me to meet her in New York.”
Her hands clenched and her skin tightened but she kept her voice even. “I didn’t realize you and Bambi were back together.” There hadn’t been any mention of other women or any overnights, except for the ‘friend’ since they’d kissed.
“Oh you know me.” He winked at her.
Fire burned behind her eyes. “I certainly do.”
His eyes dropped. “So we’ll hit it hard the rest of the week then both of us take an extended weekend. Unless you have something pressing there’s no need for you to come in.”
“Thanks.”
~*~
Somehow Kendall made it through the rest of the week. She was angry with her boss and his tomcatting proclivities, angry with herself for caring one way or the other, and she’d been having a running mental battle about heisting the diamond. It was too soon after her last heist. In fact, the last two burglaries had been closer together than she normally spaced them.
But in spite of that she’d spent hours studying it. She lusted after it, coveted it. Damn him for planting the seed. She’d always had a weakness for asschers. She could make enough on this one to take care of her mother for several months. Maybe after this she could quit. In spite of the healthcare expenses she’d been steadily putting back money. She couldn’t keep doing this forever and at some point her luck was going to run out then where would her daughter be?
Chapter Sixteen
Rain pelted against the windshield as she headed south on US 17 early Friday morning. The continuous back and forth of the wipers was making her edgy. Nerves crawled under her skin. Was she making a mistake? Something didn’t feel right.
For one thing it was closer to home than she liked. Why hadn’t she researched and found an asscher farther north? And why fixate on the one her boss had pointed out? But with unerring accuracy he’d picked a stone that looked unbelievably perfect. Just the pictures of it made her palms itch.
This was going to be the last heist. A good thief knew when to get out of the game. Sh
e stared through the rain. It was time. Somehow she’d find another way to support her mother.
By the time she pulled into a rundown motel on 95S the rain had stopped, taking the lingering humidity with it. She put on oversized sunglasses, tied a scarf around her head and went into the office and paid for a room. Once inside she changed quickly then pulled on a wig and studied the effect.
The short dark brown cut, with tousled bangs just above her eyes, squared her face. She added brown contacts and shadow then a dash of blush and lip gloss. The red dress she wore was fitted with a low square cut neck, partially covered by a short red jacket. There was enough cleavage to draw attention to her breasts instead of her hands. She took a deep breath.
“I’m ready.” Nerves gone, she strolled out of the room with her shoulders thrown back, radiating confidence.
She stepped in her car and pressed the gas. Forty-five minutes later she entered the little boutique-style jewelry store. Soft music played as her stilettos sunk into thick carpeting. Diamonds glittered and flashed against a black velvet backdrop.
A middle-aged woman approached. “May I help you?”
Kendall caught the eye of a young man behind the counter and he hurried toward her.
“Thank you, but I believe this gentleman plans to assist me.”
The woman shrugged and walked away. Clasping her clutch, Kendall waited for him, giving a sympathetic grimace as he tripped in his hurry to reach her.
“May I help you?” He finger combed his hair then gulped when her jacket gaped as she leaned on the counter, studying the diamonds.
Giving him a smile, she straightened. “I believe so. I was told this was the place to come if I wanted to buy a really stunning asscher.”
“How stunning?”
“At least five carats.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Oh yes. We can certainly help you with that. Over here please.” He motioned her toward the glass case on his right.
Her heart beat picked up, there it was. He pulled out a five carat that sat beside the diamond she’d come for. First she slipped on the five carat and held it to the light. “Beautiful.”