"I'll give you that."
"I think you will." She lifted the package out of the bag, retrieved scissors and went patiently to work on the wrap.
"While they were in the shop, buying some nice glassware, a gorgeous display table and a very unique chess table, the wife part of the team spotted this other piece. Completely not her style, let me tell you. But apparently her sister's. She got all excited, brought it to the counter while I was ringing up. She wanted it, but it wasn't priced. I hadn't priced it because I'd never seen it before."
She saw the jolt of understanding run over his face. "Christ, Laine, you found the pooch."
She set the unwrapped statue on the table. "Sure looks like it."
12.
He picked it up to examine it, just as she had. Shook it, just as she had.
"It looks like an ordinary, somewhat tacky, inexpensive ceramic dog." Laine gave it a quick tap with her fingers. "And just screams Big Jack O'Hara to me."
"You'd know." He hefted it, as if checking weight while he looked at her. "You didn't just bust it open and see for yourself."
"No."
"Big points for you."
"Major, but if we stand here discussing it much longer I'm going to crack, scream like a maniac and smash it into lots of doggie pieces."
"Then let's try this." Even as she opened her mouth to protest, he smacked the statue smartly on the table. Its winsome head rolled off so that the big painted eyes stared up in mute accusation.
"Well." All Laine could do was huff out a breath. "I thought we might do that with a little more ceremony."
"Quick is more humane." He dipped his fingers into the jagged opening and tugged. "Padding," he said and had her wincing as he smashed the body on the table.
"I have a hammer in the mudroom."
"Uh-huh." He unwrapped the layers of cotton, pulled out the small pouch. "I just bet this is a lot more upscale than anything I ever got out of a cereal box. Here." He handed her the jewelry pouch. "You do this part."
"And major points right back at you."
The buzz was there, that hum in the blood she knew came as much from holding something that belonged to someone else as it did from discovery. Once a thief, she thought. You could stop stealing, but you never forgot the thrill.
She untied the cord, pulled open the gathered top and poured a glittering rain of diamonds into her open palm.
She made a sound. Not unlike, Max noted, the one she made when he brought her to orgasm. And her eyes, when they lifted to his, were just a bit blurry. "Look how big and shiny," she murmured. "Don't they make you just want to run out and dance naked under the moon?" When he lifted an eyebrow, she shrugged. "Okay, just me then. You'd better take them."
"I would, but you've got them clutched in your fist, and I'd rather not have to break your fingers."
"Oh, sorry. Obviously, I still have to work on my recovery. Ha ha. Hand doesn't want to open." She pried her fingers into a loose curl and let the diamonds drip out into Max's open palm. When he continued to stare at her with that lifted brow, she laughed and let the last stone drop.
"Just seeing if you were paying attention."
"This is a new aspect of you, Laine. Something must be a little twisted in me because I like it. Maybe you could clean this mess up. I've got to go get a couple things."
"You're taking them with you?"
He glanced back at the doorway. "Safer for both of us that way."
"Just so you know," she called after him, "I counted them, too."
She heard him laugh and felt another click inside her. Somehow fate had tossed her the man who was perfect for her. Honest, but flexible enough not to be shocked or appalled by certain urges that still snuck up on her. Reliable, with a flicker of the dangerous about him to spice it up.
She could make this work, she mused as she swept the broken shards into the center of the newspaper. They could make this work.
He came back in, saw she'd put the dog's head on a lace-edged napkin, like a centerpiece. After a double take, he snickered.
"You're a strange and unpredictable woman, Laine. That sure suits me."
"Funny, I was thinking the same about you, except for the woman part. What've you got there?"
"Files, tools." He set the file folder down, opened it to a detailed description of the missing diamonds. Sitting, he took out a jeweler's loupe and a gem scale.
"You know what you're doing with those?"
"Take a case, do your homework. So, yeah, I know what I'm doing with them. Let's take a look."
He spread the diamonds on the pouch, selected one. "It's eye-clean." He held it up. "No inclusions or blemishes visible to my naked eye. How about yours?"
"Looks perfect."
"This one's a full-cut, weighing..." He laid it on the scale, calculating. "Whew, a whopping sixteen hundred milligrams."
"Eight gorgeous carats." She sighed. "I know a little about diamonds myself, and about math."
"Okay, closer look." Using a small pair of tongs, he lifted the stone and studied it with the loupe. "No blemishes, no clouds or inclusions. Terrific brilliance and fire. Top of the sparkle chart."
He set it to the side, on a small scrap of velvet he'd brought down with him. "I can cross the eight-carat, full-cut, Russian white off my list."
"It would certainly make a wonderful engagement ring. A little over the top, and yet, who cares?" His expression, one of mild horror mixed with hopeful amusement, made her laugh. "Just kidding. Sort of. I'm going to pour us some wine."
"Great."
He chose another diamond, repeated the routine. "So, does this talk about engagement rings mean you're going to marry me?"
She set a glass of wine by his elbow. "That's my intention."
"And you strike me as a woman who follows through on her intentions."
"You're a perceptive man, Max." Sipping her own wine, she ran a hand over his hair. "Just FYI, I prefer the square-cut." Leaning down, she brushed her lips over his. "A nice clean, uncluttered look, platinum setting."
"So noted. Should be able to afford one considering the finder's fee on these little babies."
"Half the finder's fee," she reminded him.
He gave her hair a tug to bring her mouth back to his. "I love you, Laine. I love every damn thing about you."
"There are a lot of damn things about me, too." She sat beside him while he worked. "I should be scared to death. I should be racked with nerves over what's happening between you and me. I should be terrified knowing what it means to have those pretty shiny rocks on my kitchen table, aware that someone's already been inside my house looking for them. And could come back. I should be worried sick about my father-what he'll do, what Crew will do to him if he finds him."
She took a contemplative sip of wine. "And I am. Under here," she said, with a hand on her heart. "All those things are going on under here, but over it, and through it, I'm so happy. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, or expected to be. The worry, the nerves, even the fear can't quite outweigh that."
"Baby, I'm a hell of a catch. Nothing for you to be nervous about on that score."
"Really? Why hasn't anybody caught you before?"
"None of them were you. Next, whoever-and we'll assume it was Crew-broke in, tore the place up looking for these didn't find them here. Not much sense in coming back to go over the same ground. Last, your father's managed to land on his feet all his life. I bet he's still got his balance and agility."
"I appreciate the logic and common sense."
She didn't look like she was buying any. He considered showing her the snub-nosed.38 strapped to his ankle, but wasn't sure if it would reassure her or scare her.
"You know what we've got here, Ms. Tavish?"
"What have we got here?"
"Just over seven million-or one quarter of twenty-eight point four million in diamonds-almost to the carat."
"Seven point one million." She said it in a reverent whisper. "On my kitchen table. I'm si
tting here, looking at them, and still I can't really believe he pulled it off. He always said he would. 'Lainie, one day, one fine day, I'm going to make the big score.' I swear, Max, most times he said it he was just conning himself. And now look at this."
She picked up a stone, let it sparkle in her hand. "All his life, he wanted that one, big, glittery take. He and Willy must've had the best time." She let out a breath, set the stone back with the others. "Okay, reality check. The sooner those are out of my house and back where they belong, the better."
"I'm going to contact my client, make arrangements."
"You'll have to go back to New York?"
"No." He reached for her hand. "I'm not leaving. We finish this out. Three-quarters of the pie is still out there. Where would your father go, Laine?"
"I don't know. I swear to you I don't have a clue. I don't know his habits and haunts anymore. I cut myself off from him because I wanted so much to be respectable. And still... God I'm such a hypocrite."
She rubbed her hands over her face, dragged them back into her hair. "I took money from him. Through college, a little here, a little there. There'd be an envelope stuffed with cash in my mailbox, or now and then a cashier's check made out to me. And after I graduated, too. A little windfall out of the blue, which I dutifully banked or invested. So I could buy this house, start my business. I took it. I knew it wasn't from the goddamn tooth fairy. I knew he'd stolen it or bilked someone out of it, but I took it."
"You want me to blame you for that?"
"I wanted to be respectable," she repeated. "But I took the money to build that respectability. Max, I wouldn't use his name, but I used the money."
"And you rationalized it and justified it. I could do the same. But let's just cut through all that and agree that it's a very shaky area. Let's agree you don't take it anymore, and make it clear to him the next time you see him."
"If I had a dollar for every time I tried to make it clear to him. Oh, that's right. I do. But I'll make it stick this time. I promise. Do me one favor?"
"Just ask."
"Put those away somewhere and don't tell me where. I don't want him coming back and talking me into giving them to him. It's not out of the realm."
Max slid the stones back into the pouch, tucked it in his pocket. "I'll take care of it."
"I want to help you get the rest of them. I want that for a few reasons. One, I guess it'll go a ways toward easing my conscience. Two, and more important, it's just the right thing to do. More important than that, I hope that recovering them, getting them back where they belong will protect my father. I couldn't stand for him to be hurt. And somewhere between the conscience and the right thing lies the two-and-a-half-percent finder's fee."
He took her hand and kissed it. "You know, you may have bought that respectability, but you must've been born with that style. I've got a few things to see to. Maybe you can see about warming up that fudge."
"If I wait a bit, both of us get our evening chores done, we could have those sundaes in bed with extra whipped cream."
"I believe I might just be the luckiest man alive at this point in time." His cell phone beeped, making Laine chuckle when she heard the digitized opening riff of "Satisfaction."
"Hold that thought," he said, and answered. "Gannon." His face broke into a wide grin. "Hey, Mama."
Since he leaned against the stove instead of heading out of the room for privacy, Laine started to ease out. But he grabbed her hand, pulled her back.
"So, you liked the glasses. That makes me the good son, right? Your favorite." He scowled, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could keep a hand on Laine and reach for his wine. "I don't think it's fair to put your grandchildren in the mix. It's not like Luke went out specially and picked them out to suit you. Stay," he said in a hushed aside to Laine, then transferred the phone to his other hand when he released her.
"Yeah, I'm still in Maryland. On a job, Mama." He paused, listening, while Laine puttered around the kitchen looking for something to do. "No, I don't get tired of hotels and eating in restaurants. No, I'm not sitting here chained to my nasty computer and working too hard. What am I doing? Actually, I'm two-timing you with a sexy redhead I picked up the other day. There's talk of whipped cream later."
Laine's shocked gasp only had him crossing his feet at the ankles.
"I am not making it up. Why should I? She's right here. Want to talk to her?" He tipped the phone slightly away from his ear. "She says I'm embarrassing you. Am I?"
"Yes."
"Guess you're right about that, Mama. Her name's Laine, and she's the prettiest thing I've seen in my life. How do you feel about redheaded grandchildren?"
He winced, held the phone out a good six inches. Across the room, Laine could hear the exclamations but couldn't tell the tone of them.
"No problem. I've got another eardrum. Yeah, I'm crazy in love with her. I will. Of course I will. She won't. As soon as... We will. Mama, take a breath, will you? Yes, she makes me very happy. Really? I want you to hang up and call Luke right now. Tell him he's been shuffled into second place, and I'm your favorite son. Uh-huh, uh-huh. Okay. I love you, too. Bye."
He clicked off, stuck the phone back in his pocket. "I'm her favorite son. That'll burn Luke's ass. Anyway, I'm supposed to tell you that she can't wait to meet you, and we have to come down to Savannah ASAP so she can meet you, and can have a little engagement party for us. Which in Marlene-speak means a couple hundred of her closest friends and family. You're not allowed to change your mind about me. And she'd like it very much if you'd call her tomorrow when she's calmed down so you can have a nice chat."
"Oh my God."
"She's prepared to love you because I do. Plus she's thrilled that I'm going to settle down and get married. Then there's you having the good sense to see what a prize I am. You've got a big leg up with Marlene."
"I feel a little sick."
"Here." He pulled his phone out again. "Call your mama, then you can tell her and put me on the spot. We'll be even."
She stared at the phone, stared at him. "This is real."
"Damn right."
"You really want to marry me."
"We're past the want to. I'm going to marry you. You don't follow through on this, Marlene will hunt you down and make your life a living hell."
She laughed, took two running strides, then jumped into his arms. Hooked her legs around his waist and covered his mouth with hers. "I've always wanted to visit Savannah." She took the phone out of his hand, laid it on the counter behind him.
"What about your mother?"
"I'll call her later. There's a two-hour time difference, you know. So if I call her in two hours, it's really the same thing as calling her now. That way we can do something else for two hours."
Since she was chewing on the lobe of his ear, he had a pretty good idea what the something else would be. Hitching her to a steadier position, he started out of the room. "What about those evening chores?"
"Let's be irresponsible."
"I like your thinking."
She ran her tongue down his throat, up again. "Can you make it all the way upstairs?"
"Honey, the way I'm feeling, I could make it all the way to New Jersey."
She bounced lightly as he started up the stairs. "We forgot the whipped cream."
"Save it for later."
She reached down to tug his shirt out of his waistband. "Big talk." Her hands snuck under the shirt, ran up the hard plane of his chest. "Mmm, I love your body. I noticed it right away."
"May I say, ditto."
"But it wasn't the kicker."
"What was?" he asked and turned into the bedroom.
"Your eyes. They looked into mine, and my tongue went thick, my brain went stupid. I thought... oh, yum, yum, yum." She kept legs and arms hooked tight around him when he tumbled them into bed. "Then when you asked me to dinner, I thought-in the far reaches of my mind I didn't quite acknowledge-that I'd have this rash, wild, impulsive aff
air with you."
"I think you did." He got busy undoing her blouse.
"Now I'm going to marry you." Delighted, she pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside. "Max, I should tell you, I'd've slept with you if Henry didn't like you, but I wouldn't be marrying you if he objected."
J D Robb - Dallas 18 - Remember When Page 18