“You give her too much credit,” Nicole said. “You always do.”
“Because you don’t give her enough,” Jeremy said, a bite to his tone. “It was a pleasure to have you here this evening, Mr. Benedetti. I’m sure you’re looking forward to tomorrow. I believe your family will be very pleased with the results.”
“I hope it all goes smoothly,” Stefano replied.
“It will. I just checked with Russell Kenner. He said it has been extremely quiet tonight, nothing at all unusual.”
“Wonderful,” Stefano said. “My father chose Barclay’s for its reputation, but I must admit I was worried when I learned that Christina Alberti was the jewelry specialist. Her father has quite an unsavory reputation.”
Christina let out a small gasp. J.T. quickly put a hand over her mouth.
“Christina is a very loyal and honorable woman,” Jeremy replied. “You need have no doubts about her ability or her integrity.”
“I am happy to hear you have so much faith in her,” Stefano said. “I will see you in the morning. Thank you for a wonderful dinner.”
“You’re very welcome,” Jeremy said.
“I’ll walk out with you,” Nicole said. “I’d love to hear more about Florence.”
Christina’s ears were still burning after the three of them continued down the hall.
“You certainly are popular tonight,” J.T. murmured. “The topic of every conversation.”
“I can’t believe Stefano brought up my father’s reputation in front of Nicole. God, what if she puts something in the paper about me and my father?”
“What could she possibly print? Nothing has happened, has it?”
“No, but still.” She pushed open the door another inch. The hall was empty. She stepped out of the closet, straightened her dress, and patted down her hair. Then she reached over and ran her finger across the corner of J.T.’s mouth. He tensed, and his eyes glittered with the desire that had not been extinguished. “Lipstick,” she said quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “You had lipstick on your mouth.”
“Maybe I wanted it there,” he teased.
“Well, I didn’t.”
“Afraid someone might think you want me?” he challenged.
She looked away from his penetrating gaze, worried he would see far too much in her own expression. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“There’s a big surprise.”
“J.T., please, not here.”
He nodded. “Fine. Then tell me this. Were you aware that Benedetti knew about your father? Because you don’t seem surprised, just annoyed that he mentioned it in front of Nicole.”
“He said something to me last night,” she admitted. “He came by my office. He said his family knew of my father.”
“That’s interesting. If they already knew about your father before they sent their collection to Barclay’s, why would they suddenly be worried now? This new concern must have something to do with the smoke bombs that went off last night.”
“Which my father had nothing to do with.”
“I hope not,” J.T. said. “But the fact that you ran straight to your father’s house after it happened still sticks in my brain.”
She didn’t know how to reply. She had run to her father’s house because she’d thought she’d seen him outside Barclay’s, because she’d sensed he was involved. But he’d told her he wasn’t. Hadn’t he? Or had he just sidestepped the question, as he was so good at doing? She needed to think, and she couldn’t do that with J.T. standing so close to her. When he was around, her brain went to mush.
“You can’t deny it, can you?” J.T. asked.
“We need to get back to the party.” She started walking, hoping to avoid any more questions.
“If your father is involved, Christina, you’re going to need me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then think again, because as far as I can see I’m the only ally you have. If anything happens to that diamond, you’re going down, and fast. Barclay’s will be looking for a scapegoat. And, honey, you’ll be it. Make no mistake about that.”
His words chilled her to the bone, because they were honest and true. She put a hand on his arm, drawing his gaze to hers. “If something happens to that diamond, can you stand here and tell me that you’ll still be my ally? That you won’t try to put me in jail?” He hesitated a second too long. She had her answer. “That’s what I thought. Excuse me. I’m going to say my good-byes to Alexis and Jeremy. Then we can leave.”
7
J.T. let Christina go. He knew she was pissed because he hadn’t answered her question. What was he supposed to do—lie?
Yes
, a voice inside him answered.
He should have assured her that he was her friend and that she could count on him. He wanted her to trust him, to confide in him, to help him catch Evan. While everyone else might be worried about Christina’s father, J.T. was more concerned about Evan. He knew Evan was involved. Evan had left him a note telling him so.
It was possible that Christina’s father was also a player in the game, but J.T. had no doubt that Evan was calling the shots. Or was it possible that Evan had some competition, that there were other thieves eyeing the diamond? He needed to think more about that possibility. It would be interesting if another thief foiled Evan’s plans. Evan’s arrogance might work against him.
“What are you thinking?” Christina asked, rejoining him in the foyer. “You have a funny look on your face.”
“Nothing. Did you say good-bye for me, too?”
“I spoke to Alexis. I don’t know where Jeremy went. Are you ready to leave?”
He waved her toward the front door. “After you.”
“The party seems to have emptied out pretty quick,” she commented as they walked out of the house and down to the car.
“It sure did. By the way, you never told me exactly what you overheard earlier.”
“David said he wanted Alexis to talk to me about something. That it was important. There was a sense of urgency in his voice.”
“And that sent you into a panic? Why? Does David have something on you?” His gaze narrowed as she glanced away from him. “You didn’t like it that he examined the diamond earlier. Is that what this sudden worry is about? Did David see something in that diamond you didn’t want him to see?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Of course he didn’t. The diamond is fine. And David is just a jerk. He probably asked Alexis to talk to me about giving him more responsibility or more money or something. Forget I mentioned it.”
J.T. unlocked the car door for Christina and then paused. He tipped his head toward the man walking across the street. “There’s your boy now.” They watched as David got into a silver Mercedes with a convertible top. “He has good taste in cars; I’ll say that for him.”
“Expensive taste for a grad student,” Christina murmured. “He certainly didn’t buy that car with what Barclay’s pays him.”
“Maybe he comes from money. He seemed to fit in well tonight with the Kensington crowd.”
“Too well. I still don’t know how he got himself invited. Maybe there is some connection between him and the Kensingtons that I don’t know about.”
“He’s worth checking out,” J.T. said. There were too many things about David Padlinsky that did not add up. He needed more information about who he was, where he came from, what kind of money he had.
“You don’t think he’s Evan, do you?” Christina asked. J.T. shook his head. “There’s no way. Evan couldn’t sit across from me all night and fool me.”
She sent him a skeptical look. “You’ve been telling me all along that Evan is a regular Houdini, but he couldn’t fool you? Are you that confident?”
“It’s extremely doubtful,” he amended. “But it’s certainly possible Evan is using David in some way. David had access to the diamond today.” Now that J.T. thought about it, he wondered if David could have pulled a switch during his preview with the reporter. Who would have known? Christina, who had the most knowledge about the diamond, hadn’t been present. “Let’s see where he’s going,” he said. He opened Christina’s door and hurried around to his side. He had a feeling David’s Mercedes could outrun his Chevy. Fortunately, David didn’t seem to be in a hurry, and they were able to stay close as he drove across town. It was after midnight, and traffic on the city streets was thin.
“I think he’s heading to Barclay’s,” Christina said as David made another turn. “Why would he be going there so late at night?”
“Only one way to find out,” J.T. replied. “There’s a notepad in the glove compartment. Write down his license plate number for me, and I’ll run it through the computer later.”
“You can do that? Run anyone’s license plate?” She retrieved the pen and paper. “I guess Big Brother really is watching.”
“I only run plates on people who act suspiciously, and David fits that category.”
As they turned down the street where Barclay’s was located, J.T. slowed down and pulled over by the corner, cutting the lights. David continued down the road, parking across from Barclay’s. He made no immediate move to get out of the car.
“What’s he doing?” Christina asked.
“I think he’s on the phone.”
“What should we do?”
“Wait and watch.”
The minutes ticked slowly by. David was certainly having a long conversation. The fact that he’d parked directly across the street from the auction house suggested that he wasn’t worried about being seen. But J.T. couldn’t think what business David could possibly have at Barclay’s after midnight. The street was quiet. They hadn’t seen another car in the past five minutes. The commercial neighborhood was completely deserted. It would be different tomorrow morning. The auction house would be filled to overflowing with people wanting to get a look at the diamond.
Christina put a hand on J.T.’s arm. “Look. I think he’s getting out.”
Sure enough, the light went on in the car as David stepped out. He closed the door and adjusted his coat. Then he started across the street.
“David is going into Barclay’s,” Christina said with excitement. “Should we follow him?”
Before J.T. could answer, a pair of headlights at the far end of the block suddenly came to life. David froze in the street, seemingly blinded by the unexpected bright light. The car’s engine roared.
J.T. realized what was about to happen a second too late. He had his hand on the door handle when the car hit David head-on, flinging his body like a limp rag doll halfway to the next intersection.
Christina screamed in horror.
J.T. jumped out, trying to catch a glimpse of the car that had just hit David, but it sped past them, moving too fast for him to read the license plate. The night was too dark. He couldn’t make out the model or the driver. He ran down the street to David, worried that it was too late. Christina was right behind him. She collided with him when he stopped abruptly.
He grabbed her arms. “You don’t want to look.”
“He could be alive. He could need our help,” she said, her eyes wild and scared. “Let me go.”
He did as she asked. David’s crumpled body lay in a heap in the middle of the street, a pool of blood under his head, one leg twisted beneath him, a bone sticking through his pant leg.
“Oh, God.” Christina gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.
J.T. knelt down and put his finger on David’s neck in search of a pulse, but there was none. He turned to Christina. “I’m sorry.”
“He’s dead?” she asked in disbelief. “How is that possible? He was alive a second ago. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Take a deep breath,” he advised.
“We watched it happen. We just sat there and watched it happen,” she said. “We should have gotten out of the car. We should have screamed or said something. Warned him. If we had, we could have saved him.” Her voice grew more agitated with each note. J.T. stood up and put his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace.
“It’s not your fault, Christina. We were down the street. It happened too fast. We had no chance of warning him.”
She shook her head. “It’s so wrong. This can’t be happening.”
“It is happening, and I need to call for help.” He took out his cell phone, keeping one arm around her as he dialed 911 to report the accident. After he hung up, he looked down the street. No one had emerged from any of the buildings. If they hadn’t been following David, there would have been no witnesses to the accident. Only he didn’t think it was an accident. The car had not attempted to slow down or stop. Someone had been waiting for David to get out of his vehicle.
J.T. let go of Christina and bent over David’s body. He didn’t want to disturb the scene, but he knew that once the cops arrived, they would take over the case, and it might be days before he could get the answer to a simple question. He slipped his hand into David’s coat pocket.
“What are you doing?” Christina asked, keeping her distance. She had both arms wrapped around her waist now.
“Looking for David’s cell phone.” He found the phone and pulled it out, flipped it open, and pressed redial. A number flashed on the screen and began to ring. A moment later the call went to voice mail. “This is Alexis. Leave me a message.”
Alexis Kensington? His heart sped up. Why would David, a part-time assistant, be talking to Alexis after midnight, after a party during which they had shared a private conversation? Christina was right: Something had been going on between David and Alexis. Had she known he was coming here? Had someone else known as well? Someone who had wanted to stop David from entering Barclay’s?
He heard the distant sound of sirens and got to his feet. Christina suddenly moved. “I don’t want to be here. I can’t talk to the police. They’ll ask why we were here, what we saw. Everyone at Barclay’s will wonder if I did something.”
“They won’t wonder. I’ll tell them we were coming to check on the diamond.”
She shook her head. “It’s no good. I’ll be a suspect again. I can’t have everyone looking at me with suspicion. I can’t do it again.”
He could see the panic setting in. He knew Christina was completely innocent of any wrongdoing, but she was right; she would be part of the investigation, as would he. She took off before he could tell her that he would protect her.
“Christina,” he called. “Wait.”
She ignored him, pausing only long enough to pull off her high heels. With her shoes in one hand, she ran through the parking lot next to Barclay’s and disappeared around the corner. It was after midnight, and she had no car and perhaps no money. He wanted to go after her, but the paramedics and cops were turning down the street. He reluctantly watched her go, praying she would make it home safely.
J.T. had just finished giving his statement to the police when Russell Kenner came out of Barclay’s. He walked over to J.T. “What happened?” he asked.
“David Padlinsky was run down a few minutes ago.”
“What?” Russell asked in surprise. He glanced over at the paramedics loading David’s body into the ambulance. “That’s David?”
“Yeah, I think he was on his way into the building when he was hit by a car.”
“Who hit him?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t stop,” J.T. replied.
Russell’s lips drew into a taut, worried line. “What was Padlinsky doing here so late? What are
you
doing here so late?”
“Following David,” J.T. said. “He was at the Kensingtons’ party. I thought he was acting odd, so I followed him. Unfortunately, I wasn’t close enough to protect him from what happened.”
“How was he acting odd?” Russell queried. “Did it have something to do with the diamond?”
“I just had a gut instinct that he was up to something.” J.T. didn’t know Russell Kenner well enough to confide in him. In fact, he found himself searching the man’s face for any sign of Evan. It didn’t make sense that Russell was Evan, since Russell had been Barclay’s head of security for over a year. But J.T. hated to discount any possibility. Some of Evan’s games lasted longer than others, and he knew Evan had been in and around San Francisco for the past several months. “How have things been around here?” he asked.
“Until now, quiet. When I heard the sirens I thought someone was setting up another distraction. I double-checked our security before coming out here.”
J.T. had wondered the same thing, except that murder was a big and very messy distraction even for Evan. “Why don’t I go inside with you, just to make sure nothing is off?”
Russell frowned. “Fine, but I can assure you that I have everything under control. I think that guy you’re worried about has probably given up.”
J.T. doubted that was even close to being true.
Evan could hear the sirens, the rumble of cars overhead. A spatter of loose dirt fell in front of him as the tunnel narrowed and turned. The front of Barclay’s was swarming with police, firemen, and paramedics. They’d cordoned off the street with yellow crime tape. He had no doubt that the guards inside of Barclay’s were on high alert, not sure where the danger would come from. He smiled to himself as he considered what would happen next, how surprised everyone would be, how shocked and how ruined.
He directed his flashlight on the path ahead of him, taking one last turn, then ending at the ladder set in spikes along the wall. He climbed up the steps and turned his attention to the trapdoor overhead. He loosened the nuts and bolts and opened the door, wincing as it made a small protesting clatter. He climbed through the hole and onto the basement floor of Barclay’s. He paused for a long moment to make sure no one was around, but all was quiet. He was at the far end of the basement, away from the secure access areas. This was where they kept the garbage. There were no cameras, no guards, no one waiting to pounce on him.
He brushed the dirt off his slacks as he got to his feet, then headed for the back stairs. He had no interest in stealing the diamond tonight. It would give him no pleasure to lift the stone in the shadow of darkness. That was for amateurs. He had a much bolder plan in mind. He would take it when they least expected it. And then they would know who he really was.
J.T. would realize once again that he had been outwitted. He had been chasing the wrong person. And Christina Alberti would discover just what he had planned for her.
He made his way up the back stairs. He’d already studied the cameras a dozen times, knew exactly when and where to move to avoid detection. Fortunately, the area where he wanted to go was not under intense surveillance. There was nothing to steal on the third floor. All the valuables were in the basement.
Tonight he wasn’t here to take anything, but rather to leave a few clues behind.
His first stop was Christina’s office. It was child’s play to open the lock on her door. Her office was neat, organized, a place for everything and everything in its place. She worked so hard to maintain her illusion of complete control. Too bad it wouldn’t last beyond tomorrow. Her past had given him the ideal avenue for distraction. He turned on her computer and hacked into her e-mail program, leaving her a little present. If she didn’t come back to her office tomorrow, someone else would find it. Either way, she would become a target. All eyes would be on her and her father.