Lenora Worth - The Diamond Secret

Esther’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh, that diamond.” Her worst assumptions had been confirmed. She grew warm. Her pulse beat a rapid path against her temples.

Her father had been obsessed with the stories of the ancient fifty-carat diamond. But he’d never been able to find it. Mainly because he’d never actually searched for it. He’d mostly enjoyed speculating about the myth and the legend of such a jewel, to the point of becoming completely obsessed. And quite ill before he’d died. How could she have forgotten all of his late-night stories and conspiracy theories?

Maybe because she’d blocked a lot of unpleasant memories? She’d certainly tried to put that particular bedtime story away for good. And that was the main reason she’d stayed away from his office upstairs.

“That’d be the one,” Cullen replied, intensity oozing out every pore. He studied her as if expecting her to jump up and down in delight. “I’ve done a lot of research and traced it back to Louisiana. Do you know of it?”

Esther almost giggled, but it was nervous laughter not happiness. “Everyone around here knows of it. But that’s a legend, part of the folklore that swirls around Lafitte.”

“I believe it exists,” Cullen said, his tone serious.

“I can see that,” Esther retorted, tired of this foolishness and determined not to get sucked into the absurd story again. “It might exist, but I can assure you I don’t have it here.” If her father had ever gotten up the gumption to search for the elusive diamond and if he’d found it, she would have known.

“I was told—”

Her heart did a little spin of a warning. “Whoever sent you here was mistaken.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, this is a very important diamond, a true piece of history.”

“I understand that, but I don’t have it. I’ve read about it, mostly from books and research my father gathered. He enjoyed musing about the diamond. It’s reputed to have possibly been one of the jewels on the garment of one of the high priest from the Twelve Tribes of Israel—the Levi tribe, I believe. In fact, my father called it the Levi-Lafitte Diamond.”

His eyes widened in appreciation. “You do know your stuff. While that has never been substantiated, there was a diamond on the second row of each of the breastplates. This particular chocolate could have been light in color, but still it’s what we now call a chocolate diamond.”

“Thanks,” she said with a tad more sarcasm than she’d intended. Of course, she knew her stuff. Her father had breathed these types of ridiculous tales and he’d often told them to her, always stressing that she shouldn’t repeat his theories. Her father, rest his sweet soul, had always been a speculative dreamer.

And so was the treasure seeker standing beside her. He leaned close, his eyes going velvety dark. “It’s rumored that Lafitte discovered that very diamond in his travels. Maybe stole it from a king or some exotic Persian prince. That’s the last place it was supposedly seen, hence the circa 1500 B.C.”

“And you think I have it because…?”

Cullen turned to stare at her, his fingers still tapping on the glass counter. “Because I knew your father. He was a brilliant historian and also a collector. I corresponded with him a lot before he died. He enjoyed discussing the possibilities of the diamond’s existence.” He paused. “I was sorry to hear of his heart attack.”

Touched, but shocked that this man had known her father and hadn’t told her that right away, Esther looked toward the back of the cavernous building. “Thank you. He got so sick, but he wouldn’t go to the doctor. He died here in the office, late one night.” Esther ignored the shiver moving down her spine.

Cullen glanced toward the door down the aisle. “A few months ago, right?”

“Yes. Back before Christmas of last year. A heart attack.” Why was he staring at her like that? And how did he know so much about her father?

“And you’re sure it was a heart attack?”

Growing more perturbed, she said, “Yes.”

“Did the authorities verify that?”

“Yes. He had a history of heart problems. What are you suggesting?” Esther didn’t want to discuss the details of her father’s sudden death with a stranger. Uneasy, she moved away. “I really need to close up now.”

Cullen glanced toward the front. “Please listen to me. Your father and I corresponded in detail about this diamond. Right before he died, he hinted that he might know its location. He planned to give me the details. But I never heard from him again and then I found out about his death. Did he ever mention anything about this to you?”

Angry now, Esther moved away. “You should have mentioned that you knew my father. But since you didn’t, I’ll fill in the blanks for you. Even though he did extensive research on it, I don’t know anything about this diamond. My father enjoyed theories, but he never actually went about trying to find the chocolate diamond. I think you need to leave, Mr. Murphy.”

She started toward the door.

Cullen grabbed his hat and bag and followed her. “Do you have another showcase? A hidden one? Or a safe where you keep the really good stuff?”

She did. But she wasn’t about to open it up to the likes of him, especially when she didn’t have her assistant here to watch the shop and serve as a protector. Besides, this man was too demanding and nosy. He made her uncomfortable. Chills chased the cold sweat running up and down her backbone.

“I don’t have the diamond you’re searching for,” she said, turning to hold the door open for him. “My father never mentioned finding it, so even if he did discover the diamond, as I said, I don’t have any information on it. I don’t even know if it’s real. I’m sorry you had to come all this way for nothing.”

He didn’t move to leave. “I have some of your father’s letters in my bag. I thought you might like to have them.”

Esther’s heart crashed and thumped. Her father, a faithful man and the only parent she’d ever known since her mother died during Esther’s birth, had made his living here in this dusty old shop, but he’d also had an adventurer’s soul. And yet he’d never traveled afar, because he couldn’t leave this shop or his daughter. Esther knew this, even if Jefferson Carlisle had never once said the words out loud.

She cleared her throat. “He used to read to me every night, grand adventures. Gulliver’s Travels, Sinbad, Homer’s Odyssey, The Three Musketeers, and Treasure Island, of course.” She looked at the battered bag, remembering how he used to call her a princess. A princess who lived in the white swamp. She pushed away the memories. “I would imagine his letters, even if technical, would be very colorful.”

“And very thorough,” Cullen replied. “I had to meet the daughter he loved so much.”

And find a diamond worth millions.

Maybe she had jumped to the wrong conclusion about him. Esther stood there, pondering what to do or say. She wasn’t used to a handsome stranger rushing into her shop, demanding rare fifty-carat diamonds. But she had heard her father mention the Levi-Lafitte Diamond over and over again. And always with that faraway look of adventure and intrigue in his eyes. He’d seemed frantic and obsessed with it in his last few months on earth. What if he had discovered something right before his death but hadn’t had a chance to tell her? Why had he never mentioned Cullen Murphy?

“Maybe you can come back tomorrow. If my father had the diamond or even knowledge of where it might be, he never indicated it to me.” Jefferson Carlisle hadn’t talked much about anything else other than business. Not even to his daughter. Besides, this particular diamond would be worth millions. Why would her father keep something so significant from his only daughter?