Faith was looking at him expectantly. He shifted nervously, then withdrew the ring box from his pocket and set it on the counter in front of her.
“What’s this?”
“My great-great-grandmother’s ring. I was hoping you would appraise it for me. It isn’t insured, and I was told it might be valuable.”
She picked up the faded blue box and held it reverently. “This looks like a Tiffany’s box.”
He nodded. “My great-great-grandfather purchased it from Tiffany’s.”
She gently opened the box. “Oh, my.”
Gratification buoyed him at the expression of wonderment on her face.
She looked up, and he noticed with a start that her eyes were also Tiffany’s blue. “Is this the original box?”
He nodded.
“Eighteen eighty-six?”
“That would be about right.”
Two spots of color bloomed on her cheeks. “Carter, this ring could be extremely valuable.”
“I’ll lock the vault for you, Faith,” Ben said, walking up behind her. His smile was congenial as he held out his hand for her keys.
She looked at the ring, torn, then set the box down on the counter. “No, that’s my job. I’ll be right back, Carter. Good night, Ben.”
Carter flashed a smug smile in Sills’s direction, but the man was already moving toward the door. A warning bell went off in Carter’s head—he’d seen that body language before. “Sills, hold up,” he said loudly, pushing away from the counter.
“The diamond’s gone!” Faith shouted from the vault.
Carter’s body sprang into motion just as Sills turned and withdrew his revolver. “Stop, Carter, or I’ll put a plug in you.”
Carter’s hand swept past his empty holster and he realized the man had planned the heist all along. Carter reached down for Plan B, and heard Faith’s gasp behind him.
“Stop, Grayson.” Sills looked at him, but pointed the gun in Faith’s direction. “Put your hands where I can see them, or I’ll put a plug in her.”
Carter swallowed hard and lifted his hands. “Don’t do this, man. One shot will bring the front-door security guard running.”
He laughed. “I sent that guy home an hour ago, when the other shops closed. Not everyone is as conscientious as you are, Grayson. Or as suspicious.”
Carter’s head pounded from sheer frustration. “You’ll never get away with this, Sills.”
“Sure I will,” the man said with a smile, then patted his jacket pocket where a sizable lump indicated he had stowed the priceless diamond there. “In fact, I just did.” He looked back to Faith and made a rueful noise. “Don’t bother trying to set off the silent alarm behind the counter. That’s the advantage of being in the security business—I know how to disengage all those pesky little things.” He gestured to the mounted cameras near the ceiling. “Same thing with the cameras.” Then his glittery gaze landed on the blue ring box on the counter, and his smile widened. He extended his free hand and wiggled his fingers. “Faith, be a doll and bring me that ring.”
Faith stared at the gun pointed to her chest—this wasn’t happening. Her stomach rolled at the depth of Ben’s betrayal to his company, and to her. It was her fault—she’d allowed the man to talk her into disarming Carter. And now he was going to take Carter’s precious family heirloom because he’d overheard her say how valuable it might be. “No,” she whispered, lifting her chin. “You can have anything and everything else in this store, but not that.” A sob bubbled up in her throat. “Please.”
“Faith,” Sills said through clenched teeth, “bring me that ring.”
“Give it to him,” Carter said. “Just do what he says, Faith. Now.”
She pressed her lips together to stem her tears as she lifted the aged blue box from the counter and walked it toward him.
“That’s close enough,” he said when she was at arm’s length. He snatched the box and dropped it into his jacket pocket. “Now, both of you, in the vault.” He waved the gun, shooing them. “Hurry, I’m losing patience.”
She exchanged glances with Carter who stood a few feet away. He nodded imperceptibly, but she knew he was wondering the same thing as she: was Sills going to take them to the vault and shoot them? The fact that he hadn’t taken her key ring to lock them into the vault was not a good sign.
As she walked toward the vault, a thousand things ran through her mind. Words to loved ones unsaid. Good deeds undone. Exotic lands unvisited. She was too young to die. And the irony of dying with the man she was in love with—facing death had a way of erasing the ambiguity of her feelings—was too much to bear. And what about Carter? He was on the verge of starting a new phase of his life: marriage, probably children. He’d spent his career protecting others only to be taken out like this? Such a waste.
What could she do? She took a deep breath and forced herself to think. Her mind raced over the complicated security measures surrounding the vault. A red button on the outside panel would trigger an automatic lock that bypassed the keyed locks and activated when the door closed, but it was supposed to be for a manager’s convenience and could only be disengaged from the outside with a lengthy security code. Still, if they could somehow manage to lock themselves inside, they could access an emergency phone to summon help.
She turned her head to glance at Carter, but he was darting his gaze all around, probably also trying to think of a way to save their hides. Would he remember the automatic lock button on the vault door amid all the information she’d given him during his intensive security review?
“Well, Faith,” Carter said suddenly, “this hasn’t exactly been a red-letter day.”
“Shut up and keep moving,” Sills said, prodding Carter with the gun.
But Faith’s heart lifted—Carter remembered. Since she was walking in front, it would be up to her to press the red button without attracting undue attention. As they approached the vault door, she pretended to trip on the thick carpet, and fell forward, catching herself on the heavy door and managing to activate the lock.
“Get up!” Sills barked.
Carter helped her up and squeezed her hand. She looked into his eyes and squeezed back.
“Open the door and get in there, or I’m going to shoot you both right here.”
Carter opened the door and she walked inside. Carter followed her and, to her dismay, Sills stepped in behind them. While keeping the revolver trained on them, he slid out a tray and scooped jewelry into his jacket pockets by the sparkling handfuls. After cleaning out a second tray, his pockets bulged. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye.”
“Just leave us in here and close the door, Sills,” Carter said. “You haven’t done anything really stupid yet.”
She kept one eye on the door, still slightly ajar. If Sills pulled it closed behind them, all three of them would be in here for a while.
Sills angled his head. “I don’t like you, Grayson. I didn’t like you from the beginning, and my opinion of you didn’t improve.”
“If you kill a cop, they’ll execute you,” Faith said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice but failing.
“Doll, they’ll have to catch me first.” He waved the gun back and forth between them. “You’re mighty protective of your hired help. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was something going on between the two of you.” Then his smile faded and he cocked the hammer. “Nice knowing you.”
Carter dove into Sills and the men crashed against the heavy vault door, pushing it open. The gun fired into the ceiling and Faith hit the ground. When she realized she wasn’t bleeding, she lifted her head. The men were still struggling. The gun was knocked to the floor, bounced, then slid under a wall of jewel-laden trays. Sills grunted, but managed to stay on his feet and leveraged to kick Carter in his bad thigh. Carter howled and pulled Sills down with him. They rolled over and over, crashing into the walls of trays. Jewels spilled out of Sills’s pockets. Faith considered scrambling for the gun, but she was afraid she’d shoot
herself or Carter in the process. So she pushed to a crouch and waited with her heart in her throat for an opening to get past them to run for help.
Then she remembered the vault emergency phone. After stumbling to the end of the vault, she yanked the red handset from its cradle. No dial tone—Sills had thought of everything.
But he had underestimated Carter’s strength, even with his weakened leg. Emitting an animal-like roar, Carter put his large hands around the man’s neck and squeezed. Sills turned red, then bluish, and Carter didn’t seem to be letting up.
“Carter!” she shouted. “Don’t kill him!”
He looked at her, then at Sills, and released the man abruptly, leaving him gurgling and coughing on the floor. As soon as Sills got in a couple of good breaths, Carter knocked him out cold with a right hook.
After all the commotion and the danger, the sound of the upbeat jazz music overhead was almost ludicrous. Faith sagged against the wall, weak with relief. Carter pushed to his feet, massaging his leg and taking in ragged breaths, then came to her. “Are you all right?”
She fell into his arms and buried her face against his chest. His arms came around her and he shushed her, stroking her hair and her back. She soaked up his warmth and his comfort and his strength. She never wanted to leave the security of his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat. He cleared his throat and loosened his hold first, and she reluctantly followed suit. He put his hand under her chin and looked into her eyes for several seconds, his expression soft and unreadable. His lips parted and she knew he was going to kiss her.
Sills moaned, and the moment was gone. Carter dropped his hand and sighed. “I guess I’d better take care of him.”
She nodded, hiding her keen disappointment, and smoothed her hand down her neck. It was a rather silly to grieve for a missed kiss when they were lucky to be alive.
Carter lifted the unconscious Sills to a seated position, removed the man’s jewel-filled jacket, and handed it to Faith. Then he grabbed Sills by the heels and dragged him out the vault door and into the showroom.
She held up the man’s jacket by the collar, then stared at the dazzling jewelry and loose stones scattered and winking on the red carpeted floor of the vault. A splendid mess. The man had nearly gotten away with a fortune.
She reached into one of the pockets and withdrew the Tiffany’s ring box. She lifted the lid, telling herself she wanted to make sure the precious ring was intact. It was, all one-plus carats of it, judging from her educated eye. The raised six-prong setting looked amazingly contemporary, but in 1886, situating the stone up and off the band so that light could pass through the facets was revolutionary, and unique to Tiffany’s. If this ring was one of the six-prong originals, it would be worth a great deal. She bit her lip. With this astonishing ring at his disposal, no wonder Carter didn’t want to buy Trudy a new one.
Faith looked over her shoulder, then slipped the ring from the box and onto her left ring finger. She expected it to stop at her knuckle, but it eased past comfortably, beautifully. She imagined the diamond danced with the fire of the many love stories it had represented over the past one hundred years. Her heart clenched. Trudy was a lucky, lucky girl.
Then she gave herself a mental kick and returned the heirloom to its box—there was way too much to do for her to be standing around pining for Carter and his ring. The police would need to be summoned, not to mention the company that owned the Valentino diamond, and the insurance company.
For peace of mind, she delved into one of the coat pockets until she felt the purple cloth used to wrap the Valentino diamond. She carefully unfolded the cloth and stared at the silver-dollar-size white diamond, brilliantly cut and virtually free of impurities, a nearly perfect specimen of nature. Filled with reverence, she tilted her hand to watch the light play over the stone. When she saw a shadow in the depths of the diamond, she stopped. She’d thought the stone was virtually free of impurities, and, indeed, it had appeared nearly flawless under her microscope. But there was definitely something suspended in the stone…a circle? No…a heart. No…she gulped…two hearts, overlapping. Stacy’s recitation of the diamond’s legend came back to her, but she shook her head. Impossible. She held the diamond closer, but whatever she’d seen—or thought she’d seen—was no longer visible.
Faith massaged her temple—she was starting to imagine things.
At the sound of Carter’s telltale heavy footfalls approaching her in the vault, she rewrapped the Valentino diamond. Carter flung the vault door wide as if it weighed nothing, then strode inside and headed for the file cabinet. “I cuffed Sills and locked him in the bathroom, but I want my gun before I call for a black-and-white.”
Faith looked over his shoulder. “Carter, the door!”
He turned. “What?”
It was like one of those bad dreams, where things move in slow motion. The heavy vault door bounced against its hinges and, with equal force, slammed shut with a vacuum seal.
Faith closed her eyes briefly. “Did you already call the police?”
“No, I told you—I wanted to get my gun first.”
“Oh. No.”
“What?”
“We can’t get out.”
A small laugh escaped him. “That isn’t funny.”
“Since I pressed that red button, the door can be opened only from the outside. With a code.”
“Isn’t there an alarm in here or something?”
“Deactivated.”
“Phone?”
“Dead.”
He pinched his nose with thumb and forefinger. “You mean we’re stuck in here until someone finds us?”
“Yes.”
“And when would that be?”
“My guess? Morning.”
Carter turned in a small circle, his gaze bouncing all around the room, as if gauging the boundaries of his confinement. No other doors, no windows, no skylight, no escape. Then he swept her from head to toe with a helpless expression that mirrored what she was thinking.
How would they ever make it through the night, alone in this tiny space, without doing something they would both regret?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Saturday night, February 8, 2003
WITH A GRUNT Carter returned the last of the metal shelves to its place. He dragged his hand down his face as the reality of their predicament started to sink in. The phone line had been cut. He didn’t have his radio. And the door could only be unlocked from the outside.
He really was going to have to spend the night in this vault with the woman who’d had his libido tied up in knots for an entire year.
“Find anything useful?” she asked.
“No.” He didn’t turn around—even standing as far away as possible, he could feel the pull of her on his body. “Were you planning to see anyone tonight?”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone who might be suspicious if you didn’t show up, enough to raise an alarm?”
“No. I was going home to try to get to bed early.”
He ground his teeth and turned. She’d extinguished half of the glaring lights, and sat leaning against a wall in the semidarkness. Her arms were crossed, in deference to the slight chill, and her long legs drawn up to the side. She had slipped off her high-heeled shoes and her modest skirt had climbed above her knees. She looked pale and tired and lovely. Every time he thought about Sills pointing a gun in her direction, nausea rose in his throat. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, then shivered.
He hesitated, remembering their earlier embrace and how he hadn’t wanted it to end, then walked over and gingerly lowered himself to sit next to her. His leg thudded with pain. When she moved an inch closer, he swallowed hard and draped his arm around her shoulder. She snuggled in close, the top of her head under his chin. He closed his eyes and gave in to the relief of having her near him and alive. His chest tightened involuntarily. Every day his job was to protect the innocent, but he’d never been so overwhelmed by the desire to safeguard one pers
on. The silky slide of her hair against his skin, and the softness of her body against his chest, stirred his arousal and other emotions he couldn’t identify.
“This was all my fault,” they said at the same time.
She pulled back. Her eyes were luminous, as spectacular as any diamond ever mined. “It was my fault for not trusting your instincts. You tried to warn me about Sills. And I was the one who insisted that you not wear your gun.”
One side of his mouth hitched as he leaned forward and lifted his pant leg to reveal a small, holstered pistol. “As disarming as you are, sweetheart, I’d never relinquish all of my defenses.” Lot of good it did him though. With Sills’s gun trained on Faith, he wouldn’t have taken the chance that the man would have shot her as he went down. Carter shook his head. “No, it was my fault. I knew something wasn’t right, and I still let him get the upper hand.”
“Do you suppose he’ll be okay locked in the bathroom all night?”
“After what he almost did to you, do you suppose I care?”
At the flash of surprise in her eyes, he checked himself; he was revealing too much about the strange goings-on in his head. This woman had her sights set on happily ever after, and she might misconstrue his…concern for something else entirely. He cleared his throat. “I see you gathered up the jewels. That’s tampering with a crime scene, you know.”
She smiled up at him. “Won’t the D.A.’s office take the word of two eyewitnesses, one of whom is in uniform?”
He nodded to the defunct security camera in the corner. “They’ll have to, considering Sills took pains not to be captured on tape.”
“I picked up the jewelry on the floor and sorted it on the file cabinet, but I didn’t take anything out of his jacket pockets…except the diamond—it looks fine.” She smiled. “And your family ring.”
His gaze went to the file cabinet and the blue ring box.
“I…wanted to make sure it was okay, too. And it is.”
“Thanks.”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s it—Trudy!”
He frowned. “What about…Trudy?”
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