Flawless(3)

“Yes, I know, and that’s deplorable. But what did you do?”

“I got over the crying. I don’t want you to think I did anything crazy because I was crying hysterically or out of my mind with grief or anything.”

At that, Kieran’s reaction went from unease to real concern. She looked up, forced herself to flash a smile to Bobby, refilled his glass and asked Julie to hang on for a minute.

She stopped trying to do anything useful; she had to concentrate on this conversation. She headed to the end of the bar, out of earshot of everyone else, and leaned against it. “Julie, what did you do?” she asked again.

“I was very nice, actually. His boss called the house, asking if I knew where he was. I said I didn’t. Then I went and bought doughnuts and take-out coffee, and brought them down to the store.”

That sounded nice so far. In Gary’s business, client and coworker relationships were important, because the amounts of money clients spent and the employees’ commissions were so high that cooperation literally paid. After all, better that the proceeds were shared than never earned at all. Julie was well liked by Gary’s friends and coworkers. She was quick to assist when asked and enjoyed role-playing—pretending keen interest in a piece of jewelry when a possible buyer was studying it. In the process, she’d learned a fair bit about how to judge the quality of diamonds.

But Julie hadn’t gone down to the store to be nice; Kieran was certain of that. “Julie, what exactly did you do after that?” she asked.

“I handed out doughnuts. I apologized to his friends and coworkers for the fact that he hadn’t been showing up when he was supposed to, and I explained that they’d have to find whatever woman he was sleeping with to know where he was. I saw his boss last. I asked him to save one glazed doughnut with a hole in it so Gary would have a place to put his dick in case one of his new girlfriends got wise to him.”

“That was it?” Kieran asked.

Julie giggled. “Oh, no. I want him to really hurt.”

“So then?”

“Well, then they acted all awkward and said how sorry they were. I just said, well, it was over, and how much I liked all of them, but I wouldn’t be able to come in and pose as a potential customer anymore.”

“And that was it? Right?”

“Well...almost,” Julie said. “You have to understand, Kieran. I wasn’t stupid about this. I was calm and charming. I’m so ready for all of this to be over.”

“And that’s good. Close the door. Start fresh.”

“You remember, don’t you, how I didn’t even want to get married right away?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I wanted to go to California and earn my master’s. Take some time. He talked me into getting married.”

“We all make mistakes, Julie. But back to what you did...” Kieran hesitated. “So you left the shop and that was it,” she said hopefully.

“Well...”

“Oh, Lord. Julie, if you wanted to hurt him, you should’ve just called animal control or the police. I’m sure they would have taken action for what he did to the dogs. You might have gotten him fired just for that. In any case, he would’ve been in trouble somewhere with someone.”

“Trust me, he’s already going to be in enough trouble,” Julie said.

“And why is that?”

“They’re going to find out that the Capelleti Diamond is gone. And Gary was the last one to handle it.”

Kieran’s heart slammed against her chest. “No! You didn’t—did you? Did you steal the diamond, Julie? Tell me you didn’t. That’s grand larceny! Did you steal that diamond?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” Julie said.

“Thank God,” Kieran murmured.

“I’m no good at stuff like that! I’d never try to steal anything. I was just setting Gary up. Making sure his boss and everyone there knew he had a reason to steal it, what with a new girlfriend and an expensive divorce.”

“Get to the point!”

“Well, the point is... I had your brother take the diamond for me. I admit I don’t know that many, but Daniel’s the best thief I’ve ever met—besides you, of course.”

*

Craig Frasier headed down the hall to the office of assistant director Richard Eagan and ran into Mike Dalton, who was approaching their boss’s office from the opposite direction.

Mike grinned at Craig. “I’m baa-ack!” he said happily.

“Glad to see it.” Craig grinned in return and couldn’t help asking, “So, how’s the ass?”

Mike gave a nonchalant shrug. “Every part of me is doing fine. As for you, you’re just a wiseass kid,” he said.

They’d been partners for five years, and at thirty-four, Craig hardly considered himself a kid. But he and Mike were more than partners; they were friends, as well. Although they could joke about it now, they’d been chasing a suspect in the murder of an up-and-coming politician in the Poconos when Mike was injured. He’d dodged behind cover to avoid a bullet from the Beretta the supposedly unarmed suspect had suddenly stopped to fire and caught the bullet in the left buttock as he took his dive. Craig had taken down their suspect, winging him in his right shoulder. The Beretta had gone flying, and the suspect had been arrested—in pain but alive. He’d provided information on his coconspirators in the murder, and the crime had been solved. It had been a good day for their unit, but Mike had spent several days in the hospital after that, and then a month at home on forced medical leave.