Читать книгу The Diamond Secret - Lenora Worth - Страница 13

FOUR

Cullen watched Esther coming out the back door of the boarded-up shop, the squirrelly man who must be Ted with her. Together they worked to put a padlock on the broken door. Esther held a flashlight while Ted wrestled with the chain and lock. Cullen’s first instinct was to go and help, but he was here only to make sure Esther got safely to the Garden District.

He couldn’t leave her behind to the mercy of Charles Hogan’s dangerous men. Those men would be back. They’d been chasing Cullen for months, but he’d always managed to shake them off. Hogan fancied himself a serious collector, but the man wouldn’t know taste if it bit him in the ear. He wanted the chocolate diamond, though. That much Cullen knew. And if he knew Hogan, the man didn’t just want to show off the diamond in some glassed-in display.

Hogan ran with a nefarious crowd. If he wanted the diamond, it couldn’t be for good. Cullen had heard tales of gunrunning and illegal weapons, maybe even drug smuggling. And now he’d brought Hogan’s men right to Esther’s door. It was up to him to find that diamond before they did and to protect Esther, too. Not exactly what he’d had in mind when coming to New Orleans.

The best-laid plans…

After Esther and Skinny Ted locked everything up tight, Cullen followed them out onto the street next to the on-site studio. If she planned to walk, he’d be right behind her. If Skinny planned to tag along, Cullen would be right there behind him, too.

They talked back and forth in what looked like an argumentative way and then Ted hailed a taxi and opened the door for Esther. Ted watched until she was in the cab, then reluctantly turned and hurried in the other direction.

Cullen started running to catch up. The cab stopped at the corner of St. Peter and Royal up near the square. Cullen slapped the window next to Esther.

She glanced up in fear, followed by shock, followed by dread. He had that effect on women.

“Hi,” he said as he slid in beside her. “Long time, no see.”

She glanced at the confused cabbie. “He’s a friend. Go ahead.” Then she leaned close. “You were supposed to be at the other studio. Didn’t I give you directions?”

Cullen saw the fatigue in her eyes. She wasn’t used to dealing with the likes of him. Her innocence made him feel bad about all the secrecy and shooting. “You gave me wonderful directions,” he said, taking his hat off so he could scissor his fingers through his hair. “But I wasn’t about to leave you alone back there.”

“You’ve been—”

“Watching,” he said, the one word a whisper. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“How nice of you.” She pushed at runaway strands of silky russet-and-copper tresses. “Considering that I was all set to go home to a nice bubble bath and a good cup of Earl Grey before you dashed into my shop and brought thugs with you, I’d say keeping me safe is the last thing on your mind.”

Ouch. Cullen held a hand to his heart. “Wow, I felt that arrow. Your aim is perfect.”

She lowered her voice, her eyes flashing fire. “My aim is to make you see that you are a dangerous man. I should make you get out of this cab right now, but I want answers. I wasn’t honest with the police or my assistant because I want answers, so I get first dibs on questioning you. If that diamond is out there and someone unscrupulous—besides you, of course—is after it then I have to stop them. It belongs in a museum, not in the hands of greedy people.”

Her sharp, disapproving glance told him he ranked high in that category.

Now would probably not be the best time to tell her that, well, yes, he wanted the diamond all for himself. It was worth millions. Auctioned off to the highest bidder, that little bauble could bring Cullen a fortune. And that fortune could give him endless possibilities, careerwise.

But the lovely lass sitting beside him like a stiff doll wouldn’t see things that way. He was in more trouble than he’d realized. He found a lady with a conscience. This could get messy.

“What a mess,” she said, her words eerily echoing his thoughts. “I don’t have that diamond, but thanks to you, someone thinks I might. Do you think they’ll come back?”

Cullen nodded. “If they know I’m still here, yes. I’m after the diamond. They want to get to it before me. Or rather, use me to find it.”

She slanted him a golden-eyed look. “Did you know those men were chasing you before or after you darkened my door?”

He cleared his throat and glanced at the traffic moving along St. Charles Avenue. “I might have suspected it a bit, luv.”

“You knew,” she said. “You knew and you didn’t bother to warn me at all. What kind of man are you?”

He leaned in close, his whisper partly a warning and partly a suggestion. “The kind you should never let into your shop.”

* * *

She should probably not let him into her apartment, either. Or her life. But he’d started this and she needed his help to finish it. So she turned at the French doors of the two-bedroom studio inside the grounds of the wedding-cake-white mansion that belonged to her friend Lara Barrington Kincade. Long and narrow and two-storied with a quaint little balcony off the top floor, the apartment had once been a carriage house. The workshop off the kitchen and bedroom used to house horses and carriages, and later, fancy cars. Now it was full of light and roomy enough to hold Esther’s equipment and supplies.

Until now, Esther had loved this place. She’d always felt safe here inside the massive compound. She’d never do anything to jeopardize her friendship with Lara. But bringing Cullen Murphy here might do that.

“You get one chance, Cullen. One more chance to tell me what’s going on.” She opened the door and waved him inside. “I don’t suffer fools easily. If I don’t like what I hear, I will be forced to alert the local authorities.”

Cullen looked around and smiled. “Charming.”

Esther agreed, thinking, even though his gaze swept over her rather than his surroundings, surely he was referring to the apartment. “Are we clear?”

“As clear as that exquisite Irish crystal in the hutch,” he said, pointing to a long display cabinet by the dining table.

“Good.” Esther took a calming breath. “My friend was kind enough to let me rent this for as long as I need it. I love her quirky decorating style and how the light plays through all the windows. It’s my getaway from the Quarter. It’s quiet here, especially when she’s in Europe. I’d like to keep it that way.”

He gave her a curious nod, then stood near the white leather sofa to admire an abstract painting by a local artist. “A very generous friend.”

“Yes,” she retorted, her tone brooking no argument. “Part of our agreement for me to live here and keep an eye on things was discretion, one hundred percent discretion. I aim to honor that.”

“Noble of you.” He looked bemused but didn’t press her for more details. “Friends such as you are hard to come by.”

“And people like you are hard to understand.”

“You have a dazzling wit about you, luv.”

She grinned at that. “Sit down and I’ll find us something to eat.”

“I am starving,” Cullen said. “I had a long flight and an even longer layover in Atlanta. American airports are as tedious as an ancient dig and not at all as exciting.”

Esther took that in but decided she’d drill him after they’d both had time to catch their breaths. But instead of sitting, he paced and checked, going from window to window, his actions calculated and precise. And nerve-racking.

“You think they’ll show up here?” she asked while she made turkey sandwiches and sliced fruit and cheese.

“I don’t know. No one followed the taxi as far as I could tell. But all of these windows—”

“I have a good alarm system.”

“They’d know how to disarm it.”

“Is that your way of trying to calm me down?”

“I’m being realistic. I brought this on you, Esther. So I intend to protect you. I’m sorry.”

She stopped spreading mayo and stared over the white marble counter at him. He seemed sincere, but it could be an act. “What if you were in on the whole thing?”

He glowered. “Is that what you’re asking?”

She frowned. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me? You did say you used to be a criminal.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t in on anything. I had one purpose—to see if you had the diamond. I’m strictly legal now. I was willing to split the sale fifty-fifty, same as what I talked about with your father. But I’m not willing to see you get hurt.”

She slapped bread together and slid the plate with his sandwich toward him, purposely trying to ignore the little shiver of endearment that danced down her spine. Cullen had a way of looking at her that left her unsettled and completely confused. But he needed to explain how deeply her father had been invested in finding this diamond. “Sit down and we’ll talk.”

After pouring them both iced tea, in two vintage crystal goblets, Esther sat across from him, her fingers playing with the fringe on the bright blue place mats. “My father always wanted to find the diamond. But he was more of a dreamer than a doer, so I find it hard to believe he actually acted on his dreams. He never quite got over my mother’s death.” She shrugged, pushed at her hair. “And then, he had me to deal with, of course.”

Cullen drank down some tea then looked over at her. “But he loved you. You’ll see that when you read his letters. He always told me if anything happened to him, to make sure you got the letters back. I think it was his indirect way of having a record of his feelings. And maybe other things.” He shot her a glance that bordered on a plea.

Had her father brought Cullen here as some sort of matchmaking ploy? Or maybe so she’d have a good friend. She was alone in the world, but perfectly capable of providing for herself. She didn’t need a babysitter or a bodyguard.

But maybe her father had planned on this. Maybe he’d deliberately cultivated a relationship with a handpicked companion. After all, her father had tried hard to control her every move when she was younger.

Ridiculous. Her father wouldn’t have done anything so crazy. But he would have thought about the diamond and keeping her from danger. So…Cullen was her protector?

Double ridiculous.

“He never spoke about his feelings. He kept everything buried inside while he obsessed about other things.” The jealousy she felt at Cullen’s closeness with her father stuck in her throat, stifling her breath. She grabbed a strawberry to wash it away. “I shouldn’t resent you, but I do for some reason.”

“I never would have guessed,” he replied, his tone soft, his eyes dark and intense with sympathy and concern. “His focus was on research and discovery, nothing more. But I do feel as if I know you already, having read those letters.”

Esther felt the heat of that admission move down her body. She did not blush becomingly, but she couldn’t stop the flush of warmth covering her face. Blotches of red would soon follow.

Squaring her shoulders, she asked, “What do you think you know?”

He smiled, bit into a big green grape. “I know that you love reading classic romance novels, especially rare first editions. I know that you have a keen fascination for all things old and interesting, like your parents did. I know that you wanted to be a sculpture artist and that you are, but you’re tied to that antiques shop out of a sense of duty and obligation. However, you’ve had several very good showings, critically acclaimed exhibits where some pieces sold to a couple of very famous people, or so I’ve heard. Impressive.”

She stiffened again. He couldn’t know that one of those sculptures sat in the entryway of the main house here. Intimate Images. It was an abstract of love, life and joy, forged in steel and stone—the way true love was forged. Lara, a true romantic, had loved it on sight.

Esther put that out of her mind for now. “I manage to handle both my art and the shop, thank you very much.”

He lifted his finger and trailed it over her knuckles, the electricity of his touch shocking her. “No need to get all testy, luv. You are, after all, noble. It’s refreshing.”

She used anger to cover gratitude. “Why don’t you stop analyzing me and explain yourself?”

He grinned. “I did not know that talking about yourself would make you so uncomfortable.”

“Well, now you do. But having you explain things to me might make me more open to discussing the intimate details of my life—which you seem to know already anyway.”

He sat back on the sleek white bar stool, his aggravatingly rugged presence overshadowing the art deco kitchen. “Okay, here’s the story. I was born and raised in Dublin, Ireland. I’m the middle child of three. We didn’t have much growing up, but we all worked hard. My father was strict and quiet, until he drank and then he was loud and mean. My mother was loving and sweet. She’s still alive. He is not. I have an older sister and a younger sister. I was always intrigued by the past, so I studied history and archaeology in college—I worked my way through college, by the way. But I fell in with a bad lot and got in a spot of trouble.”

“Criminal trouble?”

“Yes. I worked for a man who had no scruples.”

“But you stopped working for this man?”

He actually looked uncomfortable for a second. “Yes. It wasn’t easy to get away from him, but I did. I finished college and now I’m legitimate.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

He let out a breath. “I’m an archaeologist. That’s my life, Esther. I find things, old things, buried things. I find rare treasures and long-forgotten artifacts. I’ve discovered complete villages buried underneath rock and dirt, and I’ve found rare artifacts in caves and in the ocean. I make a good living finding and selling some of the things I discover. I lecture on college campuses and teach students how to dig and dig and dig. I want that diamond. And I’ve done the research to show that if your father had it, then he hid it and left enough clues for me to take up the quest.”

“So you actually think he found it?”

“He hinted at that, yes. I still don’t know. He was very cryptic about it. But I do believe if he didn’t find it, he knew where it might be. That’s why I asked you first. I thought maybe you’d at least let me see the infernal thing—and save me a lot of grief trying to figure out his letters.”

Her heart felt as heavy as that aggravating diamond. “Is that why you brought me the letters? You want me to help you find clues?”

He looked guilty but had the good grace to also look sheepish. “Partly. But, beyond that, I truly wanted you to have them too, as a memento of your father.”

“When you’re done with them and with me, you mean. Then I can have them as a memento.”

There went that sheepish look again. “I need your help, Esther. But I won’t get you killed in the process.”

Esther huffed an irritated breath to hide the deep disappointment cresting inside her heart. “I told you I don’t know anything and I’m not hiding the diamond. He never mentioned any of this to me. He mused about the diamond, discussed endless scenarios, but he never told me he’d found it.”

“Probably to protect you.”

“Probably because he kept his treasures to himself. Even if he had found the diamond, and even if he had told me about it, do you honestly believe I’d hand it over to you?”

“I thought we could negotiate a swap or a price at least. As I said earlier, your father and I had a partnership of sorts. We agreed to split everything evenly.”

A partnership? He only wanted the diamond so he could make an obscene amount of money. And he was willing to barter with her in order to reach that end.

Again, her heart did a thudding drop, much the way a diamond might feel if it was flung away. Was he using her?

Of course he was here for the diamond and the money. Nothing more. It didn’t surprise her, but it sure did sting.

Deciding to sting back, she said, “Sorry, but the trail is cold. My father loved to imagine what might happen if he could find the diamond, but I think he was afraid to try. Because of me. He always put me first, even when he didn’t want to.”

And no one else would ever do that. She needed to remember that.

“You don’t know that he loved you, but you should.”

She hated the sympathy, the pity, in Cullen’s eyes even as his words touched her. She’d been doing fine in her own little world. Now, here he sat, all powerful and all man, like some hero out of a comic book, trying to convince her that her father loved her, trying to convince her that she was needed.

She refused to let him get the best of her with those midnight eyes and that wonderfully delightful accent.

“Are you finished?” she asked, not necessarily referring to the food.

“Yes, thank you.”

Esther got up and removed their dinner dishes. “I’ll make coffee. I have brownies.”

Then she turned to face Cullen. “I want you to tell me about the people who tried to kill us tonight. Obviously, they think you and I know more about this cursed diamond than we actually do. Or maybe you know more and you’re not telling me. I don’t know what to believe at this point, but you’re here now and I have to go with that. I need to know if I’m still in danger and…what you propose to do about that.”