Diamond Fire (Hidden Legacy, #3.5)(10)

“Yes.”

“I have some conditions too. First, I will need access and authority to question your relatives. I can’t get very far if they refuse to answer me.”

“Not a problem,” she said.

“I will need access to your security footage. I would also like to place some additional surveillance cameras inside. They will be monitored by my cousin, not an outsider, and we will remove them once the tiara is found.”

“Can this be avoided?”

“No.” One of the first things I learned about investigation is to gather as much information as I could.

“Very well.” Mrs. Rogan nodded.

“Lastly, I have to tell Connor.”

“As long as he doesn’t interfere.”

“I also have to warn you,” I said. I’ve heard Nevada give this speech before and it felt odd to repeat it. “When an investigation includes members of one’s family, we often find something that everyone wishes would’ve stayed buried. You have to be prepared for that possibility.”

Mrs. Rogan considered it. “If one of them jeopardized my son’s wedding, I want them found. And punished. The family will forgive the embarrassment, but not the betrayal.”





Chapter 3




I climbed into the blue Honda Element we borrowed from Mom. Our car options were limited. Most of the cars we owned were older and nondescript, so they wouldn’t be noticed during surveillance, and the Element was the best-looking available vehicle we had.

“What’s going on?” Arabella asked.

“Mrs. Rogan wants my help with a theft.”

Arabella’s eyes lit up. “What got stolen?”

“A wedding tiara.”

“Does Nevada know?”

“No. And we are going to keep it that way. We have to stop by Rogan’s.”

“What am I, a chauffeur?”

“I drove here, you drive back.”

The trip between our house and Mrs. Rogan’s mansion ran about three or three and a half hours, depending on traffic. Normally, we could do a lot of things remotely, but as the wedding drew closer, we ended up making the drive more and more often. And because we were a new House and our sister was marrying Mad Rogan, both of them insisted that we never take the trip alone.

Arabella wrinkled her nose. “Yes, but Rogan’s is half an hour out of the way.”

I pulled out twenty bucks. “Fine, you’ve been formally retained.” I would expense the agency for it.

Arabella snatched the money out of my hands. “Mine.”

“Let’s go.”

My sister’s eyes narrowed. “In a minute.”

I looked in the direction of her stare. A young guy was walking toward us. He was lean, with a dark wavy haircut long on top. He had a handsome face with chocolate-brown eyes, wide eyebrows, and full lips. His jaw was clean shaven. He had to be at least my age, but there was something slightly teen idol about him, something deliberately messy but at the same time polished, as if he got out of bed, tousled his hair, accidentally rolled into designer clothes, and now he was just wandering around, not sure what to do with himself and being slightly apologetic for being so handsome.

“He is walking this way,” Arabella said.

“If you drive off now, we won’t have to talk to him.”

“I want to talk to him. He’s cute.”

Ugh. “Drive.”

“No. You’re like an old lady sometimes.”

Ugh.

The guy reached us. For a moment I thought he would go on Arabella’s side, but he changed his course and knocked on my window. Oh great. Just great. I wished I could melt into the car seat.

My window slid down. I would kill my sister.

He leaned on the roof of our car, so he could look into the window, and smiled. He had such a nice smile. It lit his face.

No. No, you can’t like his smile. You know what happens when you like people. Stop it.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Arabella said.

He was looking at me. “Hello,” I said.

“I keep seeing you around,” he told me. “And keep trying to say hi. You’re always so busy.”

You said it, now go.

“I’m Xavier,” he said.

I waited for Arabella to jump in, but for once in her life she suddenly decided to keep her mouth shut. Traitor.

“I’m Catalina,” I said.

He smiled again. “I know.”

This was a stupid conversation.

“Do you like tennis?” he asked.

Who what? Say something . . .

“She loves it,” Arabella piped up.

“Maybe we could play sometime.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I know it’s lame, but the nearest town is an hour away and they won’t let me drive. There isn’t much to do here. So, what do you say?”

“Sure.” This was the quickest way to get rid of him.

“Great. See you around.”

He stepped away, gave me another dazzling smile, and walked away. I raised my window. Arabella drove out of the courtyard.

“She loves it? I don’t even know how to play!”

“He doesn’t care about tennis. He knows your name.”