Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Interesting. Eli’s investment flop had been in cocoa beans. Maybe he could set Tristan up with whoever made the chocolate in his stash.
“How’s the restaurant doing now?” I asked Kate. “Any debt trouble?”
“None that I could find. Looks like he hit his stride with this one,” she said.
“So money troubles wouldn’t give him motivation.” Why would he do it then? I tapped my fingers on my thigh and watched the kiteboarders skim the small waves by the shore, searching for an answer. Farther out were Jet Ski riders, cutting through the blue water, and beyond them, fishing boats bobbed patiently, their occupants no doubt waiting for a catch.
Yeah, I was waiting too. For answers.
“What about International Diamonds?” I asked Kate. “Were you able to find an employee named Monica?”
While there was nothing wrong with a side hustle, nothing at all, running into Monica no longer seemed like a small island coincidence. Something was up with her.
“I called International Diamonds and asked for Monica, and they said she wasn’t in. Then I used my wits and wiles to get a last name to go with the first. Smith. Which doesn’t sound fake at all.”
I straightened up on alert. “The guy who broke into Ruby’s room gave the name Smith at the front desk.”
“Um…Jake, those don’t even need to be aliases to be within the realm of coincidence.” Kate sounded like she was trying to break bad news to me. “Especially since I could find zero info about a Monica Smith in Flamingo Key.”
But leaving the last name aside, Monica was one of the few people I could think of who knew I had a blue-tinted diamond worth ten grand, and she’d likely seen me with Ruby while she was skulking around the bar, no matter how real Monica’s laughter with her friend had seemed last night.
Just like I sensed danger, just like I knew how to find the stolen Strad, I was sure that Monica was onto us. Mr. Smith had to be her partner.
Monica and Nigel?
Monica and Tristan?
I wasn’t sure, but I did know there was another pair in this doubles match of stolen diamonds.
47
SAFE COMBOS
Ruby
“I’ll have the lobster bisque with a Tiki salad. Hold the nuts.” I handed my menu to the waiter and faced my stepfather with a fixed and phony smile.
“And the niçoise salad for me,” Eli said, clueless to my needling dig.
I’d replaced the nuts in the tube and the tube in the frame, returning everything to its place. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Eli was so wily. I’d grown up with his big-hearted softy routine while he’d sneakily had everything ready to yank the rug out from under Mom.
He was always one step ahead. It wasn’t enough to hide his diamonds. He had to turn it into a gag.
Planting false clues to keep his enemies running after his nuts?
Yeah. Just his style.
Now I had to sit across from him, eat lunch, and listen to how business was great, the shop was expanding, and the sky rained gold coins and rainbows in the wonderful old land of Eli.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t getting anywhere as a sleuth and I was frustrated and disheartened at the thought that I’d have nothing for Mom at the end of this.
Time for a direct approach.
“So, Eli,” I said, snapping open my napkin and spreading it over my lap. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Was I really going to dive straight in with questions about his hedge fund? Ask point-blank if he’d skimmed money off the top?
Yes, I was. I was so done dancing around the topic.
But before I could say anything, Eli held up a hand to stop me. “No, my dear. I need to talk to you. I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day at brunch.”
“You have?” I asked, taken aback.
“Indeed. I’ve done some soul searching and you’re right. I wasn’t fair to Shelly.”
I was so shocked that I sat back in my chair and just stared at him, my jaw hanging open. This was front-page news. Eli didn’t apologize for anything. “You weren’t fair in the divorce you mean?” I asked, needing to be specific.
He shrugged an admission. “That, and when we were married. I could have done a few things differently.”
“A few?” I echoed, my pitch climbing.
His shoulders sank with his heavy sigh. “Willow has helped me see that. I’m trying to become a better man.”
“Are you going to apologize to Mom now? How about paying her back what she gave you to start your business?”
“Let’s not spend our limited time together talking credits and debits. I’d rather invite you to a small party we’re hosting at Willow’s gallery on Wednesday night. It’s a fundraiser for a charity we support to help children. I hope you’ll come if you’re still in town.”