Finders Keepers Losers Die (34 page)

"So did you just come here to tease me?" I
asked.

Scarface sat back and settled into the chair
and the conversation. "We searched Carl's house and found his key
and the rest of the safety deposit box number, scribbled on a torn
piece of paper that fit the one you gave us. After a little gentle
persuasion in the form of a court order and negative publicity,
Bank Swiss handed over the cash."

"Do I get a finder's fee?"

"You're lucky you don't get arrested for
obstruction of justice, among other things." He looked very
serious, a common expression on Scarface so I wasn't too concerned.
I figured he'd break into a cheeky grin at any moment and tell me
everything was cool.

"Lucky me." I laughed.

"You withheld evidence."

Okay, maybe I had a lot to learn when it
came to reading people.

"And then there's the breaking and
entering."

"Lou's neighbor let me in. With a key."

He grunted and stood quickly. I stood too
and found myself standing toe to toe with him. Boy, he moved fast.
His hands brushed up my bare arms making the little hairs stand on
end. He smelled like spices with a hint of tobacco. I tried not to
let on that I was struggling to keep my beating heart under
control. I was a taken woman, damn it, I shouldn't swoon in other
men's arms!

"Cat," he murmured, "for a sexy woman,
you've got balls."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a
compliment?"

His answer was to kiss me lightly on the
lips. I was momentarily lost in the tenderness. Fortunately I had
enough focus to think of Will and pull away.

"Don't," I said on a breath.

"Sorry." He moved toward the door. "But if
that boss of yours ever stops appreciating your…work, you know
where to find me." Then he left.

After a long, still moment, I picked up the
phone and dialed Will's number. "Hey," I said when he answered.
"Just wanted you to know I miss you."

I know it's impossible but I swear I heard
him smile down the line. "I miss you too, Kitty Cat."

THE END

Now Available:

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Books by Carolyn Scott

Live and Let Lie: Cat Sinclair Mystery
Prequel #0.5

Finders Keepers Losers Die: Cat Sinclair
Mystery #1

Eeny Meany Miny Die: Cat Sinclair Mystery
#2

The Diamond Affair

You Again

Carolyn Scott has published short stories in
women's
magazines on two continents
including
Take A Break
,
Woman's Day
and
That's Life
. She has at various times worked as a librarian, IT support
person and technical writer but in her heart has always been a
fiction writer. Carolyn spent her early childhood in the dramatic
beauty of outback Queensland, Australia, but now lives in suburban
Melbourne with her husband and two children.

Check out Carolyn's
website for details of all her contemporary mystery books:
http://www.carolynscottbooks.com
.

Carolyn is also
available on Facebook: 
http://www.facebook.com/CarolynScottAuthorPage

Stop by for sneak peeks, teaser and a
chat!

She also writes historical
novels under the name C.J. Archer. You can find out more about
C.J.'s books at
http://cjarcher.com

***Have you read THE DIAMOND AFFAIR by
Carolyn Scott? Here's the description, and read on for an
excerpt.***

Ruby Jones is the luckiest gemologist in the
world. After all, how many can claim to have handled the famous
"lost" Florentine Diamond, once worn by Habsburb Empresses? But her
luck runs out when the diamond is stolen from ruthless businessman
Guy Beauvoir. As the one commissioned to verify it, she's his prime
suspect. With Beauvoir's goon chasing her all over the city,
there's only person Ruby can turn to.

Jake Forrester doesn't want anything to do
with Ruby, but he owes her brother big. The ex-special ops soldier
turned private security agent is moving interstate, and the last
thing he wants is a complication in the form of his mate's sexy
little sister. The sooner he can find the Florentine and return it
to Beauvoir, the sooner he can walk away.

If only it were that simple. Keeping Ruby
safe is turning into a full-time job, and having her close is
playing havoc with his determination to forget the secrets he's
tried so hard to bury.

THE DIAMOND AFFAIR

By Carolyn Scott

CHAPTER 1

Ruby Jones had thought she was alone with
her diamonds. She was wrong. Someone was in the hallway beyond her
workshop door. The
tap tap
of footsteps on the floorboards
was loud in the silence, louder even than her rapidly beating
heart.

She froze. At ten p.m, visitors to her first
floor workshop were only there for one thing.

To steal her gems.

Maybe, just maybe, her presence would scare
off the opportunistic thief. "Is that you, Aaron?" she called out,
though the footsteps didn't belong to her assistant. After working
together for four years, she knew his light, rapid step. These
footsteps were heavier, slower, as if the person were being
cautious. Or trying to sneak.

Ruby sat very still, straining to hear over
the blood rushing between her ears. Silence. Maybe she'd been
mistaken. After all, there was more than enough jewelry in the
downstairs store safes to keep him occupied. Why would anyone need
to venture upstairs at all?

Bolstered by logic, she got up to
investigate. She picked up the slim jeweler's knife, just in case
logic proved fallible, and eyed the telephone on her desk. If she
called the police based on footsteps alone, she'd sound paranoid.
But she
had
heard something. Better to be safe than
sorry.

She reached for the phone just as the door
swung open and crashed back against the wall. She gasped. A gorilla
of a man stood in the doorway holding a gun.

She knew him.

"Don't touch the phone," he growled. He
waggled the gun, directing Ruby away from the desk. "Drop the
weapon."

Ruby obeyed although her shaking body didn't
want to move out of reach of the phone. But she knew the
consequences if she didn't do as ordered. The intruder had a
reputation for ruthlessness. His boss even more so.

But the boss had no reason to rob her, or
send his goon around to wave a gun in her face. He was insanely
rich, he didn't need to resort to petty theft. What was going
on?

"You're Frank, aren't you?" she said, trying
to keep her voice steady. "Guy Beauvoir's employee?"

"Head of security actually." He thrust out
all of his chins, making the ruddy flesh wobble. ‘Fat Frankie' his
boss had called him yesterday, but only after the gorilla left them
alone in Guy's office. Even Beauvoir didn't want to insult him to
his face.

She swallowed and waited, torn between
talking to him and keeping her mouth shut. His gaze darted around
the small room, taking in her equipment and tools before settling
on the small diamonds lying loose in the tray on her workbench. His
gaze flicked back to her.

"What do you want?" she asked, unable to
keep quiet any longer.

"Where is it?" he said from the doorway.

"Where is what?" She shrugged. "If it's gems
you're after there's some in that tray, the rest are in the safe."
She indicated the sturdy safe squatting in the corner. "Take what
you want. I'm insured."

"Open the safe."

She hesitated and he pointed the gun higher,
aiming at her head. One shot and she was dead. Ruby didn't doubt
for a second that Fat Frankie would have any qualms about pulling
the trigger. Panic and bile rose in her throat as she fumbled with
the combination lock.

The door opened and she pulled out tray
after tray of diamonds, sapphires, rubies and other precious and
semi-precious stones. Some were still in their raw form, others
cut, polished and ready to be crafted into jewelry pieces by
herself or Aaron. It broke her heart to think all their hard work
was about to be snatched away by the sausage fingers of Fat Frankie
simply to fill the vaults at Guy Beauvoir's mansion.

She had no idea why one of Australia's
richest and shadiest men wanted her stash of gems, but she wasn't
about to argue with his right-hand man. Not when he was reported to
be trigger-happy and fiercely loyal to his boss.

Damn it, why had she accepted Beauvoir's
offer to visit him yesterday against her better judgment? Frankie's
presence must be connected. But how? If only she'd refused the
invitation.

There was no point speculating because she
would always have accepted his offer to view the Florentine
diamond. No matter that she knew he must have procured it through
the black market. It had been a once in a lifetime opportunity. She
didn't regret it, even now.

She knelt in front of the safe, holding the
trays, Fat Frankie standing over her. He clicked his tongue. "It's
not here." He kicked the nearest tray, scattering her stones—her
precious, beautiful gems—all over the workshop. It would take her
forever to find them all.

"What are you doing?" she shouted. "Stop
it!"

"Then tell me where it is." His foot nudged
another tray.

"Where
what
is?"

"The diamond?"

"There are diamonds all over my floor," she
snapped. "Which one in particular?" Even as she said it, she knew.
There was only one diamond Guy would be concerned about losing. One
extremely valuable diamond. "The Florentine," she said on a
breath.

"Yeah, that's it," Fat Frankie said, his
jowls lifting. "The Florentine."

"I don't have it."

"Wrong. The boss says you do and I've gotta
retrieve it. Whatever the cost." He shot her a cruel smile and his
hand flexed around the gun.

She swallowed down her fear and stood. This
was absurd. There must be some mistake. How would she, a small-time
gemologist and jeweler, get past Guy Beauvoir's security? The man
had more locks and alarms than a bank. The idea that she could
steal even a pencil from him was ridiculous.

"Mr. Beauvoir must be mistaken," she said.
"I don't have the Florentine. Why in the world does he think I
do?"

Fat Frankie hesitated as if weighing up
whether to tell her. "You were the last one to handle it," he
finally said. "And you overheard the boys discussing which route
they were going to take to get it to the boss's house."

She had? She frowned, trying to recall the
previous day when she'd been charmed by Guy Beauvoir in his suite
of offices. But all she could remember was the Florentine and its
magnificent clarity. The color was a rare citron and the light
bounced off its facets in glorious patterns. She'd never held
anything like it. It was as beautiful as she'd always imagined.

"You were seen on the security footage,
listening." Fat Frankie frowned too. "Near the palms," he
added.

"What palms?" Then she remembered the two
tall potted palm trees in the foyer where she'd stopped to pull out
her notebook and pen. She'd wanted to write down a description of
the Florentine while it was still fresh in her mind. None of the
historical accounts did it justice.

"Yeah, see?" Fat Frankie said, his
expression clearing. He must have doubted his own security
intelligence and begun to believe her. "You were there. You did
overhear the boys."

"No, I didn't. I was too busy."

"Doing what?"

"Thinking."

He snorted. "Yeah, right." He raised his gun
again. "So, where is it?"

"I don't have it! Do you actually think I'd
steal from Guy Beauvoir then return here? Are you crazy?"

"Could be." He sighed. "Come on, just tell
me where it is. You're the only one who could have stolen it, so…"
He put the gun to her temple. "Bang bang."

Ruby wanted to be brave. She really did. But
her legs felt like water and she was sweating all over. Her brains
were about to be scattered around the room along with her gems. Oh
God, why her? She tried to think, tried to clear her mind of the
haze of fear but she couldn't.

"Please don't shoot me," she whispered.

"I don't want to mess up that pretty face of
yours, Mizz Jones, but I will. Boss's orders. Just tell me where
this diamond is and I'll let you go."

Even if she had it, he'd never let her go.
She looked away and searched for something to distract him. Her
gaze settled on the knife she'd put down. It perched near the edge
of her desk.

"Okay," she said, sucking up her welling
tears. "There's another safe. A small one, in the desk drawer."