Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things

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Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things Page 5

by Rachelle J. Christensen


  A sick feeling caused a sweat to break out on my forehead. What about the missing wedding gown from the shipment and the hole in Sylvia’s gown?

  I grabbed my phone, thinking of calling Lorea. I had a moment of self-doubt. It couldn’t possibly be connected, could it? Natalie’s and Sylvia’s gowns were the most extravagant and unique that Lorea had ordered. Had someone planned to steal the dresses all along and just taken the wrong ones?

  My windpipe suddenly felt tight, and I checked to make sure my front and back doors were locked. The bag of diamonds in my hand felt ominous. I should call the police. My mind sped forward over the chain of events that might take place if I put in a call to Tony, my brother’s childhood friend now turned police officer. If I told him I found diamonds in Natalie’s dress, he would surely confiscate it for the investigation. Then I wouldn’t have one missing wedding gown but two. The pearl beading in the bottom of the box came to mind, and I wondered if something bigger was going on with the dress shipment. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t report this yet. I had to protect Natalie’s gown and Lorea’s future. My future.

  But Tony would definitely want to know. I wondered if I could call him as a friend. No, he was a police officer and a good detective. He would have to do his job. Lorea’s dream of her own dress shop would be crushed instantly in this tight-knit community. No one would risk getting attached to a dress if it might turn up missing or be placed under investigation for diamond smuggling.

  I needed to keep Natalie’s dress until her wedding. The bag of diamonds crinkled as I tightened my grip, thinking of how I could do the right thing for Natalie, Lorea, and the police. What if I could hide the bag of diamonds in one of the boxes from the shipment? Nervous energy spun around me as a hundred different scenarios marched through my head. Could I lie to the police, to Tony, for the sake of a wedding dress?

  Tomorrow, I would study the box and figure out if my idea might work. I thought about taking the diamonds with me to work and stowing them for Lorea to discover, but my throat tightened with fear. It felt too risky to carry the diamonds back and forth. I would have to formulate a solid plan first. Until then I needed a hiding place for the diamonds, and it had to be a good one. My mind ran through all the common scenarios I’d seen in movies. Under a loose floorboard or a piece of carpet, even taped to the inside of the lamp shade. Then I thought of the perfect place.

  I walked into my front room and stood in front of the gorgeous quilt folded neatly on a wrought iron stand near my sofa. Light spilled from the hallway onto the quilt. I purposely left the light off in the room as I thought about what I would do next.

  The quilt had been a gift from my mother when I completed my wedding planner certification. The varied shades of fabric in maroon, sea foam green, and cream formed circles that intertwined across the fabric in the famous Wedding Ring pattern—my mom felt it was the perfect symbol of success.

  My aunt Dana had helped her piece the quilt and hand-stitch the binding. I carefully unfolded the quilt, turning over one corner to reveal one of my favorite pieces. On the bottom right-hand corner a block of hunter green material had been stitched over the lighter green backing. I held it up close, reading the screen-printed cursive writing, Created by Mashed Potatoes and Crafts. Then I ran my index finger along the embroidered signature of Laurel Pyper, my mom. Many quilters put such signature blocks with their name and date on the backs of their masterpieces. Most people wouldn’t know what a signature block was, let alone where to look for one.

  I placed the quilt back on the rack and returned to my living room, where Natalie’s dress covered most of the couch like a ghostly bride. I grabbed my sewing basket and seam ripper and headed to the darkened front room.

  Clutching the bag of diamonds tightly, I focused on the shades covering my front window. Was someone lurking outside, waiting for the chance to find the diamonds? I shivered and checked the seal on my Ziploc, then rolled the bag carefully into a long tube. I allowed the extra air to escape and then retightened the seal. Grabbing my seam ripper, I sat cross-legged on the floor with my wedding ring quilt. I paused for half a second before picking out the stitches along the side of the signature block.

  The first threads popped and I winced, but I continued until I had opened the seam about three inches. I wondered briefly about stashing the diamonds somewhere else and leaving the police an anonymous tip, but what if someone found them first? With a shake of my head, I slid the bag of diamonds inside the signature block. They settled nicely along the bottom seam of the fabric where the cotton batting inside bulged naturally next to the tight edge of binding.

  My fingers shook as I threaded a needle and hurriedly stitched the hole shut. With a snip of my scissors, I held the quilt up and examined my hiding place. I doubted that my own aunt Dana—the expert quilter—would even think of looking inside the signature block. I hoped that my game of hide and seek would be good enough to buy me some time to figure out what kind of mess I was in.

  I rearranged the quilt on the stand, willing my heartbeat to slow to a normal rhythm. The clock ticked loudly in time with the blood pumping through my veins. It was half past midnight, and I needed to calm down so I could get some sleep—there was work to be done in the morning.

  After I checked the locks again, I walked through my house just in case a diamond thief was hiding somewhere. I scanned the rooms with my heavy flashlight and my cell phone ready to dial 911. Within a few minutes, I was completely freaked out. I turned on several lights in my house and walked back to my bedroom. I did some stretches and focused on breathing deep to slow my heart rate.

  Half an hour later, I slipped between my covers, pulling the blanket up to my chin, and grabbed my iPod from my nightstand. I selected a playlist I had titled “Relaxation” and pushed play. Forcing myself to follow the cadence of the music, I felt my breathing slow. With my eyes scrunched shut, I drifted off to sleep while listening to my favorite melodies played by talented violinists.

  Chapter 5

  Calming Spritzer

  Fill a small spritz bottle (about 4 to 6 ounces) with water. Add three drops lavender and one drop melaleuca essential oils (certified pure therapeutic grade). Lightly spray a refreshing mist over face, hair, or clothes.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com.

  A strange noise awakened me, and I peeked out from under my covers to see light streaming through the blinds. The noise was a mixture of one song being played in my right ear, which still had an earbud in it, and the alarm on my cell phone playing on the pillow near my left ear.

  After I pulled out the earbud and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, my thoughts immediately turned to the package sewn into my quilt. Those diamonds were probably worth a lot of money, maybe close to a million dollars, and it made my stomach turn over with dread when I thought about who might be looking for them. I again considered calling the police, but I couldn’t, not yet. I thought of what Wes would say—he’d definitely tell me to call Tony, but I felt there were no good options at the moment that wouldn’t hurt my business or my friends. Best to scope out my idea of making it seem the diamonds were in the box, but I’d have to do that when I was certain Lorea wasn’t around.

  I felt guilty just thinking about my plan. It was barely seven o’clock and I hadn’t slept well, but I knew that action would be the only thing to put my nerves at ease.

  I had hoped to take some time before breakfast to undo more of the hem. Instead I stowed Natalie’s gown in my spare bedroom, covered it with a quilt, and hurried out the door. I double-checked that it was locked. The panicked feeling kneading the back of my neck was hard to ignore. What if there were more diamonds in the dress? I rolled my shoulders back and commanded myself to focus on what I could accomplish and control: my to-do list.

  As I drove to Pyper’s Dream Weddings, I concentrated on the good things happening with my shop. The location was perfect. Two blocks from Main Street and one block from Sun Valley Road put me in prime real estate territory, bu
t the two-bedroom bungalow-turned-boutique was too small for most merchants. It was just right for a wedding planner’s headquarters.

  I stopped by Iconoclast Books & Café, another great perk around the corner, to buy one of their delicious Thursday special bran-berry muffins and an apple juice. I decided a reward for the diamond drama was due—the dense muffins with a hint of sweet honey were perfect.

  With a mouthful of goodness, I opened the back door of my shop. Something wasn’t right. My heart sped up, and I tensed as a feeling of unease lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. I flipped on the light and stood near the doorway, eyes flicking nervously around the room. For half a second, I blamed my nerves on my upcoming date with Dallas that evening. Then I took another step forward, and my breath stilled. Sylvia’s closet was open, and I could see that something was missing.

  Organization being key to a wedding planner’s success, I had installed several clothing racks with sliding doors to keep out dust. Each wedding party was assigned a closet, where we stored samples for tablecloths, centerpieces, clothing for the wedding party, tuxedos, and now wedding gowns. I pulled the door all the way to the side and rummaged through Sylvia’s closet. No dress.

  “Don’t panic. Maybe Lorea has it,” I whispered to myself as I frantically dialed her number.

  Lorea didn’t answer, and I ended the call, not trusting myself to speak calmly in a message. I hurried to the rack of wedding gowns in the corner and counted six. Two were missing. Struggling not to freak out, I slid open the closet labeled Berlin-Grafton. Nothing had been touched.

  Natalie’s dress was at my home, hidden safely away in my spare room. Now I thanked myself for offering to take out the hem, even if it did involve illegal diamonds, or her gown might be missing as well.

  But were the dresses really gone? I rummaged through every corner in the back room, searching, and then returned and counted the dress bags again. I unzipped each one to make sure there weren’t two in one bag.

  A knock at the front door brought my attention to the fact that I hadn’t yet opened the shop. I peeked around the corner and was horrified to see Sylvia standing outside the glass double doors, tapping her foot.

  A key turned in the lock behind me, and Lorea came in humming. “Hi, Adri. Did you—” She stopped when she saw my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Please tell me you have Sylvia’s dress.”

  Lorea shook her head slowly. The knocking on the front door increased. Lorea moved to look, and I grabbed her arm. “It’s Sylvia. She’s probably here to try on her dress again, but it’s gone.”

  “She didn’t make an appointment. And what do you mean, it’s gone?” Lorea ran to the closet rack and pawed through the items. Then she repeated what I had done and searched the hanging bags of gowns. “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know. When I came in this morning, something felt off, and then I noticed the closet door was halfway open.” I motioned to the closet and tried to ignore Sylvia’s tapping and obnoxious “Hello?” outside the store.

  Lorea pressed her fingers against her temples. “Okay, you go talk to Sylvia. Tell her I’m still working on her dress, and we’ll have to reschedule for later.”

  What was happening? The dress missing from the shipment, the hole in Sylvia’s gown, rough diamonds, and now this? I swallowed and walked toward the front of the shop. But I halted before I entered the main showroom. My office safe was gone. Someone had hacked through the floor mount and taken the entire thing. I cried out, “Lorea, call the police. My safe is gone!”

  Grabbing a sheet of paper and a Sharpie, I wrote a note and headed for the door. My foot slid, and I grabbed a chair before I lost my balance. Looking down, I sucked in a breath. Bits of chocolate cake and frosting stuck to the bottom of my white sandals. The beautiful wedding cake had been smashed, pink satin roses stained dark with chocolate dotted the floor, and fury licked the back of my throat. The gooey pudding infused with raspberry that had once filled the top layer of the cake was now splattered up the side of the wall. I hadn’t even tasted it!

  The thought made me pause, and I realized I was one breath away from losing it. The paper in my hand crinkled as I clenched my fist. Taking a deep breath, I smoothed out the paper, stepped forward, and taped it to the glass. I watched as Sylvia read it.

  Please excuse us while we take care of a minor emergency. A broken pipe was discovered this morning.

  Leaning close to the door, I called out, “I’m sorry, Sylvia. We’ll make it up to you if you’ll come by Monday. There’s a wonderful surprise for you.”

  “I really wanted to try on my dress again. I felt a little heavy yesterday, and I’ve been dieting since then.”

  “I understand, but we have to get this fixed.”

  Her right nostril flared but then relaxed as my words sank in. Sylvia nodded and waved. “Good luck, darling.”

  I scrambled to the back of the store to hear the remnants of Lorea’s conversation with the police.

  “They’re on their way.”

  Fighting back tears, I thought about the contents of the safe. There wasn’t much—a pair of diamond earrings Walter had lent me to show a potential client, two hundred dollars cash, and the most important item: Natalie Berlin’s wedding binder. Every speck of personal information about her tastes and desires was recorded in that book. I did have a file on my computer for the Berlin-Grafton event with a spreadsheet of all the vendors involved, but I couldn’t get back those personal details. The wedding would go on just fine, but I often perused the binders for a spark of inspiration to give each ceremony that special touch.

  My throat tightened when I heard another tap on the glass. I hoped Sylvia hadn’t come back. With relief I saw a tall man with light brown hair waving at me as I approached. He wore a dark suit, and his badge was clipped to the front of his belt. My shoulders drooped as I unlocked the door to greet the detective from the Ketchum police department.

  “Tony, I’m glad you came.” My throat was thick with unshed tears, and I struggled to retain my composure.

  “Hey, Adri. I wish we were with Wes meeting over fried pickles instead.”

  One corner of my mouth turned up. “Me too.” It seemed a long time since I was tagging along with my older brother and his friends in our hometown of Rupert.

  Anthony Ford patted my shoulder as he walked inside. “So your shop was robbed.” He stepped over a gooey blob of frosting and pink roses. “And vandalized?”

  “Makes me so mad. Lorea and I were going to eat that today.”

  Tony raised an eyebrow and his lips twitched. I knew he was trying not to smile, and somehow that made me feel better.

  I motioned to the back door. “At first I wasn’t sure because nothing looked out of place, and then I noticed three missing wedding gowns out of the nine that were delivered yesterday. I was double-checking to see if the dresses were somewhere else in the store when I noticed that my safe was gone.” I pointed to the sharp edge of metal protruding from the floor.

  Tony knelt down. “Hmm. Cut right through it. This must be the broken pipe you referred to in the note on your door.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I tried to keep the flush from heating up my cheeks, but Tony just laughed. I shrugged. “I’m not a good liar, but I thought it’d be better to keep it quiet for now.”

  “Your shop is an odd target for a burglary, but you never can figure out a criminal’s mind,” Tony muttered.

  I wondered if I should tell him about the little rocks I found in Natalie’s dress. Yes, that would be great. Why don’t you just turn over all of the gowns now? I answered my thoughts. I opted for a vague reference. “Strange things have been happening with this shipment of dresses.” I told him about the hole in Sylvia’s gown and the dress that didn’t arrive.

  “Those are good things to take into account.” Tony scribbled in his notepad. “Can I take a look at the shipment?”

  “Sure. Lorea and I unpacked all the gowns over here.” I motioned to the gowns hanging, rea
dy to be steamed, and those still tucked in their packaging.

  “What about the boxes?”

  I swallowed. “We stacked them over here. I want to keep them for my claim.” To my chagrin, Tony nodded and headed over to the stack of boxes. He looked inside each one, made a note on his pad, and continued to the dresses.

  If only I could’ve hidden the diamonds in the box. Tony would have found them and Natalie’s dress wouldn’t be in danger. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “What did you keep in the safe?” Tony asked.

  “Not much. Two hundred dollars in cash. The most valuable items were a pair of diamond earrings from Mayfield Jewelers and a binder full of wedding plans.” I frowned. “Irreplaceable, but it will probably be thrown out by the thief.”

  “How much do you think the diamond earrings were worth?”

  I could taste the muffin in the back of my throat. “At least a thousand. Walter will know. I’m pretty sure my insurance will cover that.”

  “Okay, give me a description of the earrings,” Tony said.

  “They were half a carat each, I think. In a white-gold setting. Walter probably has another pair exactly like them in his store. Maybe you could take a picture,” I offered.

  “Good idea. Can you describe the binder?” Tony jotted notes on a spiral pad.

  “I’ll do better than that.” I pulled an empty planner from a storage closet. “It looked just like this, but with swatches of fabric, some beading, pictures, and other items in each of these clear pockets.”

  Tony flipped through the binder, trying his best to look interested, but he didn’t fool me. “Follow me, and I’ll show you where we keep the wedding gowns.”

  Lorea stood in front of Sylvia’s closet staring at the space where the wedding dress should have been hanging. “She’ll kill me.”

 

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