The Topaz Brooch: Time Travel Romance (The Celtic Brooch Book 10)

by Katherine Lowry Logan

  “Then again, we’re back to the same question. Why remove the topaz if it offered protection from evil forces?”

  “Maybe they saw the topaz as decorative, and the power was in the intertwining silver rods twisted into a spiral shape,” David said.

  “Then you’re thinking that by separating the torc and topaz, the early Keepers believed they were still protected from evil. So where is it?” Rick asked.

  “Scotland. I doubt it ever left the country.”

  “I haven’t done an exhaustive study of Scottish art. It could be there, and I just don’t remember,” Sophia said.

  Rick turned his head toward the doorway. “If you wanna participate in this convo, get your adorable ass in here.”

  “I’m working. Don’t let me interrupt you.”

  Rick smiled and returned his attention to David. “I’m more worried about the brooch than the torc.”

  “The torc might be the key that unlocks the brooch riddle. But I agree. We need possession of the topaz.” David tugged on his chin. “Call Inspector Malone. Ask him if he has news about Billie. If he mentions the brooch, remind him we have a buyer. Squeeze him a wee bit.”

  “And if he doesn’t mention it?”

  “Tell him ye talked to the buyer and he’s come off his standing offer. He’s now at fifty thousand.”

  “He’ll accuse me of taking a cut.”

  “What if he does?” David said. “He might play hardball, but ye’re the only game in town. If he doesn’t sell to ye, who’s he going to sell to?”

  “The evil force.”

  “It’s not a person. It can’t steal anything other than yer mind. If anybody’s going to steal the damn thing, it’ll be me.”

  “You could probably get in and out of the basement of the Fed with a few gold bars, but don’t go stealing things in New Orleans. If you get arrested, Roy’s by-the-book. He won’t give you a break.”

  “Kenzie would have my ass, and I’m kinda fond of it. No worries. I’m not stealing anything…today.”

  “Why not pay him the hundred and walk away?”

  “He’s an asshole, and I want him to know he could have had a hundred grand.”

  “You don’t even know him.”

  “Ye’re right. But Pops does, and he believes he’s crooked. If the inspector agrees to sell his daughter’s property, it confirms that. Don’t ye think?”

  “Pops said that? I’ve never heard Dad diss an NYPD officer. And all this time I thought the inspector was a decent cop.”

  “I told him Billie Malone’s life and another brooch were at stake, and I needed the truth.”

  “Sounds like you got it.” Rick put down the leg rest, dropped the papers on David’s desk, and stood, rolling the tension off his shoulders. If he was going to beat down on the inspector, he needed to be loose, ready to duck and roll. He found the inspector’s number in his contacts, monitored his breaths and heart rate, and when his entire body was still, he pressed send. After two rings, the inspector answered.

  “Inspector Malone.”

  “Inspector, sir, this is Rick O’Grady.”

  “O’Grady, good. Do you have news for me?”

  Is he asking about the brooch or Billie?

  “No, sir. I was hoping you had some to pass on.”

  “Not a word. The police department has only one detective working the case. They believe she left on her own free will, and this isn’t a police matter. They’re only staying on it to appease me.”

  Rick walked over to the window and gazed out into the backyard. The gray clouds were almost gone now. “Did you hear from Morgan today? Maybe she has some news.”

  “She returned to San Francisco. She promised to call if she heard anything, and I promised to call her if I did.”

  “Pete and I will be here for a couple more days. If you hear anything, let me know.”

  Ask the question, Inspector. You know you want the money.

  “Thanks for calling, detective.” The inspector paused a moment and then asked, “Have you mentioned the topaz brooch to your buyer?”

  Bingo.

  Rick continued to hold his breathing and heart rate sniper-still, keeping the inspector in his crosshairs. “He’s backed off the original offer. It’s now fifty grand. I have the authority to write a check if you’re interested.”

  “How much are you getting out of this, O’Grady?”

  There was a distinct note of bitterness in the inspector’s tone and would have sent shivers up the spine of a rookie cop. If Rick claimed it didn’t rattle his cage, he’d be lying.

  “No, sir. I work for the buyer. Just doing my job.”

  “Tell your boss there are other buyers in New Orleans.”

  “Good luck with that, sir. Thompson Estate Sales was selling it for twelve hundred. If anyone should know the value, Mr. Thompson should. Well, think about it. The price might drop again.”

  The inspector shut down the call without replying, and Rick glared at the phone. “What an asshole.”

  “Yep. Ye didn’t make any friends on that call,” David said. “He’ll call ye back. He might check with a jewelry appraiser first, but he’ll discover nobody will match yer offer. When he calls, drop it another twenty-five.”

  “God, he’d be pissed. Might not sell it for pure meanness. I can’t risk that.”

  “Then that twenty-five’s on ye.”

  “What? No way. I’m not paying him twenty-five grand.”

  “Text him. Tell him the buyer is coming down another twenty-five if he has to wait longer than an hour for an answer.”

  Before Rick could send the text, his phone rang. “Guess the inspector has reconsidered.” He clicked the accept button. “O’Grady.”

  Without a hello, or identifying the caller, the inspector said, “I’ll sell it for fifty, but the deal has to go down right now. I’m not waiting until tomorrow.”

  Rick grinned and gave David a thumbs-up. Then scraped all emotion from his voice. “Where you wanna meet?”

  “I’ll come to you. Where are you?”

  “I’ll text the address.” The inspector clicked off without a hi, bye, or kiss my ass. Rick sent the address then let out a loud sigh. “I’m not sure I want to be here when he arrives.”

  “Ye can handle him, and if ye can’t, leave him to Kenzie. She’ll bust his balls.”

  Kenzie strutted into the den, wiping the sweat off her face. “Whose balls am I busting?” She moved her head and body to the left and right, slipping punches and moving in for closer body shots. “I’m ready. Bring him on.”

  “Inspector Malone’s,” David said. “Are ye up for it?”

  “Sure.” She worked a few double jabs. “Does he have any authority here?”

  “Nope, and it doesn’t sound like the locals are giving him much help either. Ye should be fine.”

  Remy handed her a tall glass of ice water, and she chugged it. “Ahh. That’s good. Thanks.” She put the cold drink to her forehead and rolled it from side to side. “So, what’d the inspector do now?”

  “Sold the topaz for fifty thousand dollars.”

  Her eyes widened. “To us, I hope.”

  “Ye-ep.” Rick watched Kenzie cool down, feeling guilty he’d missed a run for the second day in a row.

  “I thought the going rate was a hundred.”

  “It was, but after I talked to Pops, I dropped the price,” David said.

  “Must have been some convo,” she said.

  “Convo? God, ye turn me on when ye use field lingo. But I think ye’re spending too much time with O’Grady.”

  She blew him a kiss. “I’d rather spend time with you, McBain. If I’m going to bust the inspector’s balls, I need to look like a ball-buster. I’m going to the shower. So, you want to… I don’t know… Wash my back or something? It’s hard to do with my hand and arm wrapped in a waterproof sleeve.”

  David’s eyes brightened. “I thought ye’d never ask.”

  “Wait. Wait. Wait!” Rick held his hand
s out in a stop gesture. “If you head out for a fast and furious—”

  “Don’t sweat it, O’Grady. I’ll be back in plenty of time.” She laughed. “Inspector Malone will have to sign a Bill of Sale.”

  David took her hand. “Lead the way, lass.”

  Rick dropped his hands and clapped them onto his hips. “I better not have to come get you.”

  “If ye do, knock softly.”

  “If I knock softly, you won’t hear me above Kenzie’s hooah.”

  “Don’t be crass,” she said on the way out. Then from the hall came a loud, “Hooah.”

  Shaking his head, Rick returned to the kitchen, where Remy stood at the sink refilling a glass of water, and Sophia sat just where he’d left her. “Billie’s father is on his way over with the topaz brooch.”

  “We heard. It’ll be nice to get control of that one,” Sophia said, filling in details of the group picture at the Café Du Monde. Rick didn’t like the expression she drew on his face, but he knew her well enough to know she sketched what she saw.

  She put down her pencil, lining it up with the others, and rolled her palm slowly back and forth, clicking the wood sticks together. “We’ll find Billie, and maybe even a pirate’s treasure.”

  Remy’s fingers were speed typing on his phone. “If you’re paying the inspector fifty grand, finding a treasure would more than cover the costs of this adventure.”

  Rick poured another cup of coffee and strangled the mug in his hands. “After what happened at the Café du Monde, aren’t you ready to change your mind?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m itching to go,” Sophia said.

  “What about you, Remy?”

  “I’m going for the treasure.” He pocketed his phone and did a riff on the countertop. Ba-dum-dum chsh!

  “Seriously?” Sophia asked. “I thought you were going to protect me.”

  “That too, but when Pete has eyes on you, I might go look for Jean Lafitte.”

  “After our swampland flyover today, finding a treasure will be impossible unless you get a pirate map,” Rick said.

  “I’m sure you can buy one off the street,” Sophia said.

  The back door opened. “Help!”

  Remy rushed over to give Pete a hand. “Give me one of those bags.”

  “Take the one in the middle. It’s slipping.”

  Remy grabbed a bag with loaves of French bread poking out the top, and they set the bags down on the granite countertop.

  “Where’s the whisky and beer?” Rick asked.

  “In the car. I didn’t want to drop them. I didn’t care if the eggs broke, but if I dropped the whisky, all hell would break loose.” He kissed Sophia. “What’s up, babe?”

  She tapped her cheek with the end of a pencil, smiling. “Well, let’s see. The inspector is on his way here with the topaz brooch.”

  “That’s great news.” Pete glance at Rick. “Did you call him, or did he call you?”

  “I made the call,” Rick said.

  “Oh, and here’s a bit of news you’ll appreciate,” she said. “Connor’s breaking into Billie’s house in Napa to look for clues to her whereabouts, and—”

  Pete narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, looking first at Sophia and then Rick. “You mean we’ve lost her since I went to the market?”

  “We haven’t lost her,” Sophia said. “We just want confirmation.”

  “Unbelievable. You sent Connor to do something you find offensive?”

  A slow, knowing grin slid over her face. “I thought what you did to me was offensive, but I got over it. If you hadn’t gone inside my studio, you never would have found me.”

  “It didn’t matter, Soph. You would have come home on your own eventually.”

  “Billie can’t come home. She doesn’t have a brooch. She needs our help.”

  Pete grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and twisted off the bottle cap. “Connor is breaking into her house, and her father is on his way here to sell her property for a hundred grand. Sounds like she’s getting screwed.”

  “Fifty. The inspector waited too long.” Rick ran his hand over his jaw, his whiskers rasping. He’d trimmed and styled his three-day stubble beard. He never wanted to look like he forgot to shave, but he wanted that killer stubble—rugged with style—and it took a bit of work to maintain it.

  Pete took a pull on the bottle. “Why not twenty-five?”

  “That was David’s next move.”

  Remy held up one of the steaks. “If you want me to season these with a Cajun spice rub, I hope you bought spices I can work with.”

  Pete dug into one of the grocery sacks and pulled out a small brown bag. “Black and white pepper, cayenne pepper, paprika, garlic powder, chili powder, basil, kosher salt, ground cumin, and thyme. That should do it. Right?”

  “It’s a start.” Remy took the sack and scooted things out of his way to make room to work. “There’s a taxi pullin’ up in the driveway.”

  “If that’s the inspector, I hope he tells the driver to wait. That will get him in and out quickly.” Rick went to the back door and opened it. “Sir, you can come in this way.”

  The inspector shifted his stride and headed toward the open door. Rick looked back at Pete. “Will you bang on David’s door and tell him to get his ass down here?”

  Pete took another long pull on his beer. “Is Kenzie with him?”

  “Yeah, so knock softly. Kenzie wants a signed Bill of Sale.”

  The inspector entered the kitchen, looking a little off-balanced. If he was going for a John Wayne swagger, well, it looked cartoonish on him. Rick made quick introductions, knowing that neither Sophia nor Remy wanted to chit-chat with the man.

  “I heard Detective Parrino married a famous Italian artist. It’s nice to meet you.” He glanced at the sketchpad. “Are you working on anything particular while you’re in NOLA?”

  Sophia slammed the inspector with a drop-dead glare. “Parlo un po’di inglese.”

  He was an alpha male and too well-trained to show a flicker of surprise, but he couldn’t camouflage the slight lilt in his voice. “You don’t speak English?”

  “Si. Un po.”

  Remy tossed a handful of peanuts into his mouth like he was at a frigging movie theatre munching on popcorn. Rick looked away to keep from laughing at the afternoon version of their reality show.

  “Inspector, why don’t we go in the den? Kenzie McBain, the company’s lawyer, just returned from a run. She’ll be right down.”

  “I don’t need to wait for her.” He held out the jewelry box. “I’ll take the check and be on my way. The taxi’s waiting.”

  “She insists you sign a Bill of Sale. I can’t give you a check until that’s done. Let the taxi go. Our driver will take you back to the hotel.”

  “I guess I don’t have a choice.” He gave an annoying smirk of importance before sending the taxi on its way. He then returned and sat down in the den to wait.

  Maybe Rick was too judgmental. After all, the inspector’s daughter was missing. He had to be a concerned father. Right? Maybe he was going to use some of the money to hire a private investigator to find her. And maybe not.

  Sophia entered the room carrying a beer and held it out to the inspector. “Che ne dici di una birra?”

  He looked to Rick for a translation. “If she’s asking if I want a beer, please tell her no thank you.”

  “No, grazie,” Rick said.

  Sophia left the room, and as soon as she cleared the doorway and was out of the inspector’s line of sight, she turned back and rolled her eyes at Rick.

  He cleared his throat behind his fist. “Do you mind if I inspect the brooch and jewelry box?” He took it from the inspector’s proffered hand and opened it. The topaz brooch hadn’t aged as well as the others, and it needed to be polished.

  Pete entered the room. “Kenzie’s on her way down.”

  “I met your wife,” the inspector said. “I’m sorry she doesn’t speak English. I’d enjoy talking to her about
art.”

  Without missing a beat, Pete said with a laugh, “Good thing I speak Italian, or we might never have fallen in love.” He glanced at Rick. “If you’ve got this under control. I’m going to fire up the grill.”

  Kenzie finally showed up to rescue them from an uncomfortable situation, and made a beeline to the inspector, extending her hand. “I’m Kenzie McBain, corporate attorney for MacCorp. I’m so sorry about your daughter. I hope the police find her soon. I can’t imagine how horrible it must be, not knowing what happened to her.”

  “Thank you, Ms. McBain. I appreciate your concern.” He glanced at her cast. “Appears you’ve had some misfortune as well.”

  “A tree root captured my foot. The foot survived to fight another day, but my wrist was a casualty of war.”

  “Sorry to hear that. I try to stick to the pavement when I run.”

  “Yeah, but trail running offers a plethora of mental and physical advantages you don’t have on the street.”

  David didn’t stroll into the room. He marched, coming to a halt next to Kenzie, extending his hand. “David McBain, Kenzie’s better half, and president of MacCorp.” He turned to his wife. “If ye draft a Bill of Sale, we can get this transaction completed, and the inspector can return to his search.”

  “It’ll only take a couple of minutes.” She sat down at the computer and typed on the keyboard. The printer soon came to life and printed out two sheets. She handed them to David. “The top section is for the address of the buyer and the seller. MacCorp’s address is already there. The next section is a description of the property, which I supplied. The final section is for signatures.”

  The inspector studied the document. “This description reads as if you’ve already seen the brooch and box.”

  Kenzie didn’t blink. Her badassery was on full display. “Rick saw pictures yesterday and described them to me.” She glanced at the box in Rick’s hands. “He’s always very thorough.”

  David signed and dated his copy, then passed it to the inspector, who filled in his contact information and signed the document. When David had both Bills of Sale in hand, he said to Rick, “Ye can write a check for fifty grand and our business with the inspector will be completed.”

  Rick dug into his computer bag for his checkbook and made the check payable to the inspector. He was tempted to make it out to Billie, but he didn’t want to give the inspector any reason to call off the deal. Rick handed the check to David, who then passed a copy of the Bill of Sale and the payment to the inspector.