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Authors: Sara Rosett

Tags: #Mysteries & Thrillers

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BOOK: Suspicious (On the Run)
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A thin blond woman in her mid-forties with an air of energy barely under control announced it was time for the conclusion of the “Be Flawless” fundraising campaign. She made the announcement in a crisp upper crust English accent then repeated it in Italian and German. At least that’s what it sounded like to Zoe. The blond woman drew a name from a crystal bowl, and a well-preserved brunette was allowed to wear the Flawless Set, minus the bracelet because the clasp broke as Harrington tried to put it on the lucky lady. But the winner didn’t seem to mind too much. She kept running her hand over the necklace and fingering the earrings.

She had her photo taken and mingled with uniformed security officers following a pace behind her. Jack watched everything with a lazy posture and sharp eyes. Zoe was sure there were more security guards in tuxedos as well. After the winner circled the room and multiple photos were taken, Harrington removed the necklace and earrings and placed them on their black velvet display beside the bracelet.

All eyes were on the jewels as the transfer was made until the clatter of shattering glass jerked everyone’s attention to the back of the room where a flushed waiter was already scrambling to clean up his dropped tray.

Zoe looked back toward Harrington and saw that the jewels were in place and the glass case was being lowered over them. One of the worker’s hands slipped, and he bumped the case, knocking the jewels out of their velvet indentations. Harrington quickly replaced them. “No harm done,” he said. “Slowly, this time.”

The glass was positioned and secured with screws as another man with a laptop approached. Zoe assumed he was checking those mysterious “other security protocols” that Harrington hadn’t been able to discuss with them. Jack had told her that displays often had sensors or pressure plates installed to prevent theft.

The energetic trilingual woman swept in front of the jewels with a rustle of silk, the folds of her one-shoulder black mermaid gown flickering around her feet. She made her announcement, again in three languages. “As a finale this evening, we are pleased to present the Millbank and Proust Award to two people who provided a great service to the arts. It was through their actions that a priceless masterpiece was preserved and returned to its rightful owner. ” Amy, her earpiece still slipping, appeared at the woman’s elbow with a wooden plaque. Without glancing at her, the woman took it and swept an arm toward Jack and Zoe as she announced their names.

They made their way through the crowd, and a smattering of applause briefly filled the room. Jack murmured, “Harrington didn’t say we’d have to speak.”

“We’ll wing it.”

They accepted the award, shook hands, deposited air kisses, and then everyone looked to Jack for a few words. He looked back, a smile on his face, but Zoe saw the tension in his hands as he gripped the plaque, his knuckles going white. He glanced at her, and she said thank you in three languages. “And that is all we can say. That is the extent of my German,” she said with a shrug.

The audience laughed and the blond woman thanked everyone for coming. Jack handed Zoe the plaque. It was about an inch and a half thick and had a shiny metal plate affixed to the front with an engraving that proclaimed they had provided valuable assistance to Millbank and Proust, as well as the artistic community. “Well done. My mind went completely blank. They liked you.”

“Oh, they were just glad they didn’t have to listen to a speech,” Zoe said as the woman in the mermaid dress moved to their elbow.

She said, “So sorry we did not meet earlier. I am Melissa Davray.”

Harrington appeared as well. “Melissa is our managing director,” Harrington said as if he hadn’t briefed them on Melissa earlier. Zoe tried not to gawk. Could this impeccably groomed and obviously successful woman possibly be a jewel thief? Diamond accented combs held her elaborate updo in place so she must not be short of funds herself. Why would she risk everything? Zoe’s gaze strayed to the Flawless Set. It was beautifully spectacular. Of course, she couldn’t picture the damp-palmed Carlo carrying out a robbery either.

Jack was no longer tongue-tied and smoothly thanked her for the award and the opportunity to attend the opening.

“You are most welcome.” Melissa turned to Zoe, the translucent skin at the corners of her almond shaped eyes wrinkling as she smiled. “It is an event that appeals more to women than to men, I think. All women love bling, as you say in the States, I believe.”

“I certainly enjoyed the bling,” Zoe said.

“Oh, there is someone I must speak with,” she said and was off before anyone could say anything else.

Harrington watched her go. “I do wonder sometimes if she actually sleeps. She’s always on the move. Doesn’t even use her office chair.” Now that the cover was secured over the jewels, he looked more relaxed.

He extended a hand to Jack with a barely noticeable tilt of his head to the Flawless Set. “Thank you for everything. Perhaps we could meet for lunch tomorrow?”

They agreed on a restaurant, and Zoe and Jack joined the crowd exiting the building. Thunder rumbled and rain spattered them as they climbed into another taxi. “Well, that was anticlimactic,” Zoe said. “No smash and grab, no theft, no excitement at all.”

“Anticlimactic is good,” Jack said. “Especially in the security business.” He ran his arm along the backseat of the taxi and turned to her. “Now we have a pressing matter to discuss. Freckles.”

***

“Odd that Harrington didn’t show up,” Zoe said as they climbed the stairs to their hotel room the next day. They’d spent the morning meandering through the streets with no agenda or tourist site on their program, except for lunch with Harrington. They’d waited an hour at the pizzeria that he and Jack had agreed on, again, a few blocks from the Pantheon, but he hadn’t arrived. After trying several appetizers while they waited, they’d finally decided he must have been delayed and split a pizza dotted with milky buffalo mozzarella and disks of Roma tomatoes.

“Yes, he’s usually so reliable.” Jack pulled his phone from his pocket.

Zoe unlocked their door. “Still nothing?”

“No. I’ll try him again. He always calls back.”

Zoe tossed the key on the dresser and set down their single souvenir purchase, a line drawing of the Spanish Steps, which they’d climbed earlier that day. They had begun at the crush around the unpretentious, almost whimsical, boat-like fountain at the base, stopped at the pink house on the right, where Keats lived and died, then scaled the wide marble steps that split and wrapped around to a high terrace with another obelisk. Harrington’s brochure informed them the obelisk was a Roman replica with some funky errors in the hieroglyphs that had been copied from the obelisk in the nearby Piazza del Popolo.

Zoe pulled out a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower.” The morning tour of Rome had been wonderful, but she was sticky and hot. Jack nodded as he dialed.

She luxuriated in the cool spray. They had air conditioning in their room, but it wasn’t like the frigid central air she was used to in Texas. As she stepped out of the shower, she heard voices in their room, a tenor to the counterpoint of Jack’s baritone.

She caught a few words. Harrington’s name was mentioned along with what sounded like the words “jewelry” and “fake.”

With her towel still wrapped around her, she leaned her ear against the door.

The tenor voice was saying, “…Throckmorton’s assistant was completing her routine check of each display at the exhibit this morning when she discovered the substitution. From the time the Flawless Set arrived here in Rome—when it was authenticated by an independent expert to be the true and rare set of jewels—until this morning, the only person who had full access to the pieces was Signor Throckmorton. He is missing.”

Jack’s voice cut in sharply, “Missing?”

“Yes. His hotel room is empty. He is not answering his mobile, and no one has seen him since last night. Where is he?”

“I have no idea. We were supposed to meet for lunch, but he didn’t show up.”

“Was that part of the plan?”

“What plan?”

“Your plan with Signor Throckmorton to steal the Flawless Set.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Jack’s voice had gone to a quiet level that set off alarm bells for Zoe. He only spoke that way when he was angry or upset.

The other man continued as if Jack had not spoken. “You see, the bracelet in the display case has a complete clasp. It is not broken. The display case has not been opened since last night—we know this because it has a computer sensor attached to it that records all movement, very high tech, is how it is phrased, no? Therefore, a substitution has been made. The real diamond bracelet has been replaced with a fake, as have all the other gems. The necklace, bracelet, and earrings on display this morning are copies. Since the case has not been opened since Signor Throckmorton placed the jewels inside it last night, we must conclude that he made the switch last night during the exhibit opening.”

“And how could he make the switch with everyone watching him?”

“Sleight of hand. Even a passable magician can distract. The waiter tripped and dropped his tray. The crash drew everyone’s attention away from the diamonds. Signor Throckmorton palmed the real set and replaced it with the fakes, which he must have had hidden in his sleeves.”

“But you’re talking about three separate pieces of jewelry—no four, if you count the earrings individually. He couldn’t change out that many separate pieces in a few seconds without someone knowing.”

“Ah, but there was another disturbance. Remember the ‘accident’ when the worker bumped the display? Perhaps it was no accident? Two interruptions would be plenty of time for him to make the change. None of it—even the earrings were to be displayed hanging. All of it was to rest on the velvet cushions, which would make fast transfers possible. Signor Throckmorton personally arranged for the gems to be displayed in this fashion.”

Zoe pushed away from the door and hurriedly slipped into her clothes, a pair of white shorts and a lightweight turquoise top. Those accusations were absurd. The idea that someone could switch several pieces of jewelry without anyone noticing was ridiculous. The volume of the voices escalated as she grabbed her towel off the counter to toss it over the towel rack. It caught on her quilted jewelry bag, pulling it off the counter. It hit the tile floor, and her jewelry scattered around her feet.

As she crouched down to gather up hoop earrings and thin gold chains, she froze, staring at a diamond bracelet that had tumbled from the bag and lay in a sinuous “S” curve on the towel bathmat in front of the shower. The glittering, icy-clear stones sparkled, looking as out of place and foreign as a snake, but still as beautiful and striking as it had last night when she’d looked at it during the exhibit. It was the bracelet from the Flawless Set.

The tenor voice went up another notch, and Zoe could clearly hear the man say, “Then you won’t object if we have a look around?”

Zoe scuttled closer to the seam of the door. “Of course not,” Jack said. “But it is ridiculous to even consider that Harrington or Zoe and I could be involved in any way.”

“And your wife is where?”

“In the bath. She’ll be out in a moment.”

A knock on the door caused it to vibrate, and Zoe jumped back, stifling a gasp.

“Zoe,” Jack said. “We have company. Colonel Alessi from the Carabinieri. There’s been some sort of mix-up.”

Zoe looked back at the bracelet and licked her lips. “Be right out.” She scrambled around the floor, stuffing her jewelry in the quilted travel bag until the floor was clear except for the diamond bracelet.

She crawled closer. It couldn’t be the bracelet from the Flawless Set. It just couldn’t. Maybe somehow, someway, an imitation bracelet had gotten in her jewelry bag. She didn’t know how that could happen, but the thought of the bracelet just appearing out of nowhere and now the police were here, talking about missing jewelry…it was just too odd.

She crouched lower and looked at the bracelet, her nose only inches from the bathmat, and her heart sank. The jewels themselves were dazzling, but it was the clasp that she was fixated on. It was scored and worn and had the ‘
R
’ inside an oval, just like the clasp on the necklace, and the clasp was broken—just like the piece from the exhibit last night.

Zoe thudded back on her heels. What was she going to do?

On the other side of the door, she could hear drawers opening and closing. It wouldn’t be long before they’d insist she come out of the bathroom and let them search. Should she take it out there with her, and say she’d just found it?

Would the Carabinieri believe her? What if they didn’t? Zoe bit her lip. Worst-case scenario, Jack and she would be carted off to a police station and wrapped up in red tape and probably a jail cell for…well, she didn’t know how long. That didn’t sound like a good plan, but what else could she do? Hide it? From the sounds on the other side of the door, the search was thorough. And then what? Return it—somehow—anonymously?

They definitely needed time to figure out what do to. Maybe they could go to the American Embassy and have the bracelet returned through official channels. Yes, that sounded much better. At least that way they wouldn’t start out in a jail cell.

Her gaze darted around, looking for a hiding place, but the bathroom didn’t have cabinets or drawers, just a freestanding counter with a sink, a shower, a towel rack, a toilet, and a bidet. She scrambled to look under the counter, but there were no gaps or ridges where she could place the bracelet. The toilet tank was an old stand-by hiding place that she’d seen used in movies. Surely that was too common and it would be searched. What was left? The shower drain and an air vent were both screwed into place and she wouldn’t be able to get them loose without considerable time and lots of work with a nail file, so those were out.

“Zoe, you okay?” Jack asked.

“Yes, fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Her shorts had pockets, but their clothes might be searched as well. She might not have a choice. She might have to turn it over right now. She felt herself breaking out in a cold sweat. She’d been in the position of being under suspicion before, and it wasn’t something she wanted to repeat.

BOOK: Suspicious (On the Run)
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