Lenora Worth - The Diamond Secret

Cullen started running to catch up. The cab stopped at the corner of St. Peter and Royal up near the square. Cullen slapped the window next to Esther.

She glanced up in fear, followed by shock, followed by dread. He had that effect on women.

“Hi,” he said as he slid in beside her. “Long time, no see.”

She glanced at the confused cabbie. “He’s a friend. Go ahead.” Then she leaned close. “You were supposed to be at the other studio. Didn’t I give you directions?”

Cullen saw the fatigue in her eyes. She wasn’t used to dealing with the likes of him. Her innocence made him feel bad about all the secrecy and shooting. “You gave me wonderful directions,” he said, taking his hat off so he could scissor his fingers through his hair. “But I wasn’t about to leave you alone back there.”

“You’ve been—”

“Watching,” he said, the one word a whisper. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“How nice of you.” She pushed at runaway strands of silky russet-and-copper tresses. “Considering that I was all set to go home to a nice bubble bath and a good cup of Earl Grey before you dashed into my shop and brought thugs with you, I’d say keeping me safe is the last thing on your mind.”

Ouch. Cullen held a hand to his heart. “Wow, I felt that arrow. Your aim is perfect.”

She lowered her voice, her eyes flashing fire. “My aim is to make you see that you are a dangerous man. I should make you get out of this cab right now, but I want answers. I wasn’t honest with the police or my assistant because I want answers, so I get first dibs on questioning you. If that diamond is out there and someone unscrupulous—besides you, of course—is after it then I have to stop them. It belongs in a museum, not in the hands of greedy people.”

Her sharp, disapproving glance told him he ranked high in that category.

Now would probably not be the best time to tell her that, well, yes, he wanted the diamond all for himself. It was worth millions. Auctioned off to the highest bidder, that little bauble could bring Cullen a fortune. And that fortune could give him endless possibilities, careerwise.

But the lovely lass sitting beside him like a stiff doll wouldn’t see things that way. He was in more trouble than he’d realized. He found a lady with a conscience. This could get messy.

“What a mess,” she said, her words eerily echoing his thoughts. “I don’t have that diamond, but thanks to you, someone thinks I might. Do you think they’ll come back?”

Cullen nodded. “If they know I’m still here, yes. I’m after the diamond. They want to get to it before me. Or rather, use me to find it.”

She slanted him a golden-eyed look. “Did you know those men were chasing you before or after you darkened my door?”

He cleared his throat and glanced at the traffic moving along St. Charles Avenue. “I might have suspected it a bit, luv.”

“You knew,” she said. “You knew and you didn’t bother to warn me at all. What kind of man are you?”

He leaned in close, his whisper partly a warning and partly a suggestion. “The kind you should never let into your shop.”

* * *

She should probably not let him into her apartment, either. Or her life. But he’d started this and she needed his help to finish it. So she turned at the French doors of the two-bedroom studio inside the grounds of the wedding-cake-white mansion that belonged to her friend Lara Barrington Kincade. Long and narrow and two-storied with a quaint little balcony off the top floor, the apartment had once been a carriage house. The workshop off the kitchen and bedroom used to house horses and carriages, and later, fancy cars. Now it was full of light and roomy enough to hold Esther’s equipment and supplies.

Until now, Esther had loved this place. She’d always felt safe here inside the massive compound. She’d never do anything to jeopardize her friendship with Lara. But bringing Cullen Murphy here might do that.

“You get one chance, Cullen. One more chance to tell me what’s going on.” She opened the door and waved him inside. “I don’t suffer fools easily. If I don’t like what I hear, I will be forced to alert the local authorities.”

Cullen looked around and smiled. “Charming.”

Esther agreed, thinking, even though his gaze swept over her rather than his surroundings, surely he was referring to the apartment. “Are we clear?”

“As clear as that exquisite Irish crystal in the hutch,” he said, pointing to a long display cabinet by the dining table.

“Good.” Esther took a calming breath. “My friend was kind enough to let me rent this for as long as I need it. I love her quirky decorating style and how the light plays through all the windows. It’s my getaway from the Quarter. It’s quiet here, especially when she’s in Europe. I’d like to keep it that way.”

He gave her a curious nod, then stood near the white leather sofa to admire an abstract painting by a local artist. “A very generous friend.”

“Yes,” she retorted, her tone brooking no argument. “Part of our agreement for me to live here and keep an eye on things was discretion, one hundred percent discretion. I aim to honor that.”

“Noble of you.” He looked bemused but didn’t press her for more details. “Friends such as you are hard to come by.”

“And people like you are hard to understand.”

“You have a dazzling wit about you, luv.”

She grinned at that. “Sit down and I’ll find us something to eat.”

“I am starving,” Cullen said. “I had a long flight and an even longer layover in Atlanta. American airports are as tedious as an ancient dig and not at all as exciting.”

Esther took that in but decided she’d drill him after they’d both had time to catch their breaths. But instead of sitting, he paced and checked, going from window to window, his actions calculated and precise. And nerve-racking.

“You think they’ll show up here?” she asked while she made turkey sandwiches and sliced fruit and cheese.

“I don’t know. No one followed the taxi as far as I could tell. But all of these windows—”

“I have a good alarm system.”

“They’d know how to disarm it.”

“Is that your way of trying to calm me down?”

“I’m being realistic. I brought this on you, Esther. So I intend to protect you. I’m sorry.”

She stopped spreading mayo and stared over the white marble counter at him. He seemed sincere, but it could be an act. “What if you were in on the whole thing?”

He glowered. “Is that what you’re asking?”

She frowned. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me? You did say you used to be a criminal.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t in on anything. I had one purpose—to see if you had the diamond. I’m strictly legal now. I was willing to split the sale fifty-fifty, same as what I talked about with your father. But I’m not willing to see you get hurt.”

She slapped bread together and slid the plate with his sandwich toward him, purposely trying to ignore the little shiver of endearment that danced down her spine. Cullen had a way of looking at her that left her unsettled and completely confused. But he needed to explain how deeply her father had been invested in finding this diamond. “Sit down and we’ll talk.”

After pouring them both iced tea, in two vintage crystal goblets, Esther sat across from him, her fingers playing with the fringe on the bright blue place mats. “My father always wanted to find the diamond. But he was more of a dreamer than a doer, so I find it hard to believe he actually acted on his dreams. He never quite got over my mother’s death.” She shrugged, pushed at her hair. “And then, he had me to deal with, of course.”