Entangled

by Carmen Green

  He sat back in his chair. “Aw, man.”

  “We didn’t delete files or do anything malicious,” she said quickly.

  “They found out, didn’t they?”

  “Cal and I were questioned by the FBI and SBI. It was scary.”

  “How old were the two of you?”

  “I was sixteen. I think Cal was seventeen. I tried to explain the class project to them, but they didn’t care. I had to show them how I got on their network. After that, I changed my major from computer science to mathematics. It was safer.”

  Chris shook his head. “Tell me you’re not a hacker now.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I only hack into Cal’s stuff.”

  He looked at her for a long moment then picked up the hard drive and gave it to her. “See what you can do with this.”

  Twenty minutes later, she’d gotten past all the safeguards and encryption codes on the hard drive and accessed the files. She felt a punch of excitement when she read the first file. “Chris. You need to see this.”

  He rolled his chair next to hers and looked at the computer. Two photographs were on the computer screen. The first was of Aunt Gert wearing the necklace and earrings with the caption Gertrude Alma Lee Mitchell (GMALNL) below it. The second photograph was the necklace and earrings in a black display case with the caption Arella Laveau (ALNYER).

  He pointed to the captions. “That’s what was written in Marc’s organizer.”

  She nodded, remembering the entry. She scrolled down the file and spotted an address. “There’s Arella’s address.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Getting in touch with Arella Laveau had been harder than either of them had expected. Two days later, while driving to Atlanta to attend Alex and Hunter’s wedding, Chris received a phone call from the designer.

  “She’s agreed to meet with us when she returns to New York tomorrow,” he said, closing his cell phone.

  Renee sat in the passenger seat of his Explorer, ignoring the fast-moving traffic and skyscrapers of downtown Atlanta. She’d listened to Chris’s end of the conversation with an anxious knot in her stomach. She was sure Laveau had Aunt Gert’s necklace but the brief exchange told her nothing. “Why didn’t you ask her about the necklace?” she asked.

  Chris put his cell phone on the console between the seats and put his hand on the wheel. “We could barely hear each other through the static.” He looked at her then moved his hand over the console and covered hers. “Don’t worry. We’ll talk to her tomorrow. Relax.”

  His hand felt warm, comfortable and strong. She turned her hand and twined her fingers with his. The knot in her stomach loosened a little. “We still have to get plane tickets to New York.”

  “We’ll get tickets. For now, we’ve got a wedding to attend. Hunter and Alex deserve our attention now,” he said.

  She considered his statement. “I’ll try not to think about it when we get to the yacht, but until then I need to think about it now.” She squeezed his hand and sighed. “It’s so frustrating. I wish you’d asked her about the necklace.”

  He shook his head. “She wouldn’t have told us anything over the phone. Anyone who’s in her business is very careful. No one wants to be robbed or killed.”

  She hadn’t considered the possible danger to the designer. After her experience in H. Morgan and Sons Jewelers, she couldn’t blame the woman for being careful. “You’re right. I should relax and focus on the wedding because there’s nothing I can do about the necklace now.”

  “We’ll be at the hotel in a few minutes. I’m sure Alex and Danielle will keep us busy for the rest of the day,” he said.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked, enjoying the simple act of holding his hand.

  “Hunter filled me in when I called him last night. They’re keeping the wedding arrangements as quiet as possible.”

  “I can’t imagine living my life like Alex and Danielle. Every time they go out, they have to be prepared to have their picture taken.” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “No, you’d rather give your attention to those you love than have the attention be on you. You’re a generous woman.” He lifted their joined hands and kissed her fingers.

  She smiled at him then turned her head to stare blindly out of the passenger window. Her heart ached. He’d come to know her well in a short period of time. He’d also managed to capture her heart totally and completely. It still amazed her how quickly he cut through all of her defenses and how he’d settle for nothing less than the real her. She wanted him to stay with her so badly that it scared her.

  “We’re here,” he said, bringing the car to a stop beneath the covered entrance of the hotel.

  They quickly checked in to their adjoining rooms and changed clothes. Danielle and Tristan were waiting in the lobby. Danielle wore a pink silk wrap dress that hugged her curves without being overly suggestive. She looked glamorous, feminine and gorgeous. She smiled and hurried over to Renee and Chris when she saw them step out of the elevator.

  “Renee, you look great. Cocoa told me that you’d found a wonderful dress for the wedding.” Danielle gave her a hug, then stepped back and circled Renee to get a good look at the dress.

  “Thanks to you. I’d never have gone there if you hadn’t suggested it, and you look wonderful yourself,” Renee replied.

  “Thank you,” Danielle said and smiled at Chris when he stood beside her.

  “Hello, Danielle. Tristan,” he said as Tristan joined Danielle.

  “Hello,” Tristan said, then added, “Our ride is here.”

  The driver of the 1930’s white limousine held the door open for them. Renee felt like a princess as she climbed inside. The ride to the marina was short. They walked down the pier to the Marc III. From there, a young man dressed in a black suit led them to the upper deck.

  Hunter stood in the rear, talking to an older man. He ended the conversation with the man and walked toward the group.

  “What a lovely day for a wedding,” Danielle said.

  Hunter smiled in agreement. It was an unusually mild day with temperatures in the midseventies. “Yes, it is. Now that everyone is here we can get started,” he said.

  “Anxious,” Chris said and smiled.

  Hunter smiled, then said, “Yes.” He led them inside a small room and introduced them to Alex’s brother, Jerry, and Alex’s assistant, Willa, who sat side by side on the single row of chairs. Hunter then joined the older man at the front of the room while the videographer recorded the scene.

  The young man who’d led them to the deck came inside and told everyone to please be seated.

  Renee sat between Chris and Danielle. One seat remained empty with a reserved sign on the seat. Renee remembered her own wedding ceremony in a judge’s chamber. It wasn’t the wedding she’d wanted, but then again, her marriage hadn’t been what she’d wanted, either.

  Renee turned when the door opened again. Alex stepped inside, wearing a white strapless dress, white high heels and carrying a white bag with Little Sweetie inside. Alex’s smile was radiant as she walked to the empty chair and sat the bag down. She walked to Hunter and stood by his side as the justice of the peace performed the marriage ceremony.

  Renee blinked back tears as the couple exchanged vows and rings. Their love for each other was clear on each of their faces.

  The ceremony was over quickly and Hunter and Alex accepted their congratulations before being commandeered by the photographer, who asked everyone but the bride and groom to leave the room. The couple joined them when the motor started.

  “Congratulations,” Renee said as the yacht began to move out into the lake.

  “Thank you,” Alex said, holding Hunter’s hand. “I’m glad you’re all here.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it,” Danielle said.

  A waiter served them champagne. Chris raised his glass and said, “To Alex and Hunter.”

  Renee raised her glass to toast the couple. She sipped the champagne and was about
to ask Danielle a question but stopped when she saw the longing on Tristan’s face as he watched Danielle. Renee studied her glass and wondered what was going on between them.

  A few minutes later, Danielle, Renee and Alex went into the room where the ceremony had been held.

  “What’s going on with you and Tristan?” Alex asked.

  Danielle gave her a puzzled look. “There’s nothing going on between us. He’s my friend.”

  “Are you sure?” Alex asked.

  “Yes. I’m sure,” Danielle said.

  “He doesn’t look at you like a friend. He looks at you like a lover would,” Renee said.

  “You mean the way Chris looks at you,” Danielle said and smiled.

  Renee felt heat rush to her face. “Yes.”

  Danielle shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong. We’re friends and business partners. That’s all.”

  Renee shared a doubting look with Alex.

  “What’s going on with you and Chris?” Danielle asked.

  She wasn’t sure how to answer the question. “We’re involved with each other.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “We can see that. Are you serious about him or just fooling around?”

  She was seriously in love with Chris. “We’re taking it one day at a time. I really like being with him. I’m not ready to get serious again.”

  “I didn’t think I was ready, either, but love has a way of sneaking up on you,” Alex said.

  Later that night as she lay in Chris’s arms, Renee thought about Alex’s comment. Love had certainly taken her by surprise. She only hoped that she was strong enough to survive the heartache when the love was gone.

  * * *

  The next day, Chris and Renee arrived at LaGuardia Airport.

  Arella’s workshop was located in an old, brick warehouse in a part of the city that was being reclaimed by artists of all types. There were still enough questionable people on the street to keep Chris on his guard as they exited the taxi.

  Renee took his hand and they walked to the gray metal door and rang the buzzer.

  “Who’s there?” a woman’s melodious, Caribbean voice poured from the intercom.

  “Chris Foster. I spoke to you earlier.” He gave Renee’s hand a gentle squeeze as they were buzzed in.

  They entered a brightly lit corridor. Photographs of art deco and art nouveau jewelry lined both walls.

  “They’re beautiful,” Renee said, studying the photograph of a delicate diamond necklace.

  “Thank you.” An attractive woman appeared at the end of the corridor, wearing faded jeans and an old shirt. Her skin was unlined and the color of honey, her eyes the color of cognac. She had the kind of face that made it difficult to determine her age.

  “Arella Laveau,” he said. “This is Renee Foster. We’re related to Marc Foster who was a client of yours.”

  “Yes. I’ve been trying to contact Mr. Foster for a few weeks with no success.”

  “He’s dead,” Renee said.

  “Well, that would explain why I couldn’t reach him. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. We’re hoping you have information about a necklace,” Chris said, watching the woman closely.

  “You understand that I can’t give you information until I have proof of who you are,” she said calmly.

  “I’ve a copy of Marc’s death certificate and his will and we both have personal identification,” he said.

  “Come with me, please.” She led them down the corridor and into a large space. Three long work benches separated the room. Man-size windows let in light from the second floor and a complex grid of hanging lights provided additional lighting. The area had a stark feel to it. Chris noted the heavy-duty security cameras and motion detectors throughout the room. His opinion of Ms. Laveau moved up several notches, especially when she called the local FBI office to verify his identity.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. It appears that you are who you say you are,” she said a few minutes later, returning the items to them both.

  “No problem,” he said, taking the papers and his ID.

  “So, did Marc give you a diamond necklace?” Renee asked, her tone anxious.

  “Absolutely,” the woman replied.

  “Do you have it? Is it here?” Renee stepped forward.

  Chris put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. He knew how anxious she was but she needed to back off.

  “Of course I have it,” the woman said. “I suppose you want it back.”

  Chris smiled and put his arms around Renee, who stared at the woman, unable to speak. “Yes. She definitely wants it back.”

  “Have a seat over there.” She waved to one of the work benches with three stools in front of it. “I’ll bring them out to you.”

  “Them?” Renee said as they walked to the bench.

  “Yes. Mr. Foster brought several pieces of jewelry to me,” she said, then walked behind a brick wall. He heard what sounded like a large metal door opening. A safe. She returned a minute later carrying a large black case. She set it on the bench and opened it.

  He whistled low and long at the sight. Nestled on black cloth lay Miss Gert’s diamond necklace and a pair of matching earrings. Photographs couldn’t capture the sparkle and beauty of the necklace. He watched as Renee gently stroked the necklace.

  He felt an overwhelming need to see her wearing the necklace. “Try them on,” he said.

  “Yes. Do try it on. Jewelry should be worn,” Miss Laveau said, and opened a drawer and removed a large hand mirror.

  Chris watched as Renee lifted the necklace with shaking hands.

  She held out her hand and said, “You put it on for me, Chris.”

  He felt a lump in his throat. He knew how much the necklace meant to her and was humbled by her request. He took the necklace from her and placed it on her neck. Her tears of joy and the smile on her face was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. As he smiled, he realized that her joy was the end of his.

  “Here are the pictures that Mr. Foster gave me to make the earrings.” The woman removed the photos from the case.

  “When did he contact you?” Renee asked.

  “A few months ago. He said he tried to find me in Paris earlier, but I’d left the family business to branch out on my own. I’m glad he found me. It was a challenge and an honor to recreate a piece my grandfather designed.” She smiled.

  “You did an excellent job,” he said.

  “Thank you. I couldn’t understand why Mr. Foster didn’t return my calls. He’d been so insistent on me completing the design. Usually it’s the client who hasn’t paid who ignores my calls but he’d paid for the earrings and brought old diamond jewelry for the diamonds to use in the design.”

  So that’s why Marc had bought so much old jewelry. He could tell by Renee’s expression that she understood.

  Renee picked up the earrings and put them on.

  “Thank you, Miss Laveau. Aunt Gert will be absolutely thrilled. She’d sold the original pair years ago.”

  “Yes. He said she’d used the money to pay for her niece’s extra college expenses.”

  He put his arms around Renee and held her as she cried.

  Later, they took a taxi back to the airport to catch their flight back to Atlanta. The jewelry had been carefully wrapped and stored in a pouch. The pouch was now in Renee’s purse. Her purse wasn’t the best solution for transporting the jewelry, but it was the most practical and he had a feeling that she’d balk at having the necklace out of her sight.

  Their flight had been delayed due to bad weather and they arrived in Atlanta after midnight. They were both too tired to drive to Birmingham.

  Bringing Renee to his apartment made him nervous. When Chris opened the door and turned on the light, he realized how barren it seemed. The lone chair in front of the television looked stark. The dank, closed-up smell of unlived-in space filled the room. It was a sharp contrast to her place. Her house was a home and his apartment was just somewhere to
occasionally sleep.

  “Have a seat,” he said, and closed the door behind them.

  “No. I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed,” she said.

  He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. Thankfully he’d washed the sheets when he left for Birmingham almost two weeks ago. Had it just been two weeks since he’d been with her? He turned on the single lamp in the room.

  “It’s not much on decor, but I can guarantee you the bed is comfortable.”

  She smiled at him. “It’s fine. Is the bathroom through there?” She nodded her head toward the door.

  “Yes.”

  He watched as she walked across the room, then closed the door to the bathroom, and wondered how he would walk away from her. It had been so easy in the past to pack his belongings and move. He’d always been eager to go, but not this time. He feared this move would be the hardest of his life.

  He stripped down to his boxers and walked to his closet to dump his clothes in the dirty clothes bag and put his pants on a hanger. He turned when he heard the door open.

  She wore a pretty pink bra and matching panties; walking to the bed, she put down her purse. She brought her white dress to him and he put it on a hanger. Watching her turned him on.

  He walked to the bed and sat down. “Would you show me the necklace again?”

  “Sure.” She reached inside her purse, removed the pouch and held it out to him.

  “I want to see it on you.”

  She met his gaze and gave him a wicked smile, then opened the pouch. The diamonds sparkled against her skin. Donning the earrings, she slowly turned to him. Smiling, she slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders. His mouth went dry when she unfastened her bra and slowly, slowly, pulled the lacy material down.

  “Renee, you’re killing me.”

  “Turnabout is fair play.” She finally removed her bra, letting the lace garment dangle on her fingertips, then dropped it to the floor. He groaned when she wiggled out of her panties. The pleasure in her eyes was almost as erotic as her striptease. She bent her knee, her hands at her hips, back arched. “You like the necklace?” Her voice was sassy.