Cut (29 page)

“I know it's hard to understand, but my loyalty to the company is sometimes tested. I have to take Brent's side or Luke's. Nothing this big has ever happened before. Luke's never gone behind Brent's back for a sale and Brent hasn't physically tried to take diamonds back. To make matters worse, Melanie got mixed up in all this, although I still don't know how. I've never had to take Melanie's side before, but this time I had to help her. You have to believe me that I didn't know the logistics of Luke selling the diamonds without Brent's knowledge. I pieced bits of information together that I'd overheard or from what I'd seen. Melanie came to me and said she was going to ask me for a favor, and she didn't want me to ask questions, but that I should trust her.”

Jessie's thoughts dizzied her. She put her hand to her forehead.

“I know, I'm sick about it myself. I keep thinking about the morning she took the diamonds.”

“You never asked her for more information?”

“No. She would never have asked me to do something like this if it wasn't important.”

The chain of events began to fall into place one link at a time.

“At the time I thought I made the right call. If I hadn't led Melanie to the codes…if I hadn't told her…she would be alive.”

“You don't know that for sure.”

“I know she would still be here.”

“Kendra, what I don't understand is, why wouldn't Melanie have just given the diamonds to Brent?”

“I don't know. I can't answer that question either. I've tried looking at this from Melanie's point of view. Let's say that somehow she learns Brent wants them back. She didn't want to become the middle of a potential feud between the brothers. She doesn't have a chance to talk to Luke or maybe she can't confront him as to why he'd put the company and his relationship with his brother in jeopardy. She doesn't know who to trust and she takes them.”

“I disagree. This still doesn't add up. She wouldn't pick Brent over her husband.” Jessie tried to make the scenario to work, but it only further tangled her thoughts. She tried a different course. “Do you know about Brent's son?”

Kendra stifled her tears. “Yes.”

“Did Melanie?”

“I don't think so. I only found out recently.”

Jessie didn't understand completely why her sister took the diamonds. She felt nowhere closer to the truth and it was killing her. “Do you have any idea where she'd hide them?”

“No.”

The sound of footsteps and low voices carried from the hallway. Luke, Brent, and her mother made their way towards them. Kendra moved out of sight and disappeared into one of the rooms. The brothers didn't stop to talk to Jessie. Instead, they passed by her and turned the corner. Brent didn't even glance in her direction, like she didn't exist at all.

“There you are,” Leslie said, a few steps behind. She joined her daughter.

“Can we go?” Jessie said.

“Yes,” her mother answered. “My thoughts exactly.”

Dinner with her mother proved to be a somber and forced event. Neither of them made a dent in their meal. The waitress asked if there'd been something wrong with the food, and Leslie broke down in shoulder-shaking sobs. Jessie paid the bill and walked her mother to her hotel room door. They couldn't grieve in the comfort of their own home which made the hotel stay worse.

“I want to rest,” her mother said, and shuffled into her room.

Jessie also needed to be alone and she took the elevator to her floor and got to her hotel room.

The quiet space gave her time to think about her conversations with both Kendra and Daniel. Daniel let her know he'd already spoken to Ms. Downey. Jessie felt as if she was once again behind the curve on the race to get answers. Kendra had inadvertently given Melanie the codes to the vault. Was there anyone in this capable of telling the truth? The knots in her stomach seemed to take root and spread to her limbs at the thought of what else she might find out. She couldn't shake the heaviness inside her. The sorrow she felt for her sister changed in one breath to anger. All of these people in Melanie's life claimed to love her and yet, they all indirectly helped her to her death, herself included. It was a hard fact to swallow.

There wasn't anything she could do to save her sister, but she could pick up the phone and find the number for Elizabeth Downey's office. She found it without much effort. So easy and right there at her fingertips.

Jessie called Elizabeth's office. After some lying, the receptionist put her through. The line rang.

“Elizabeth Downey,” she answered the phone.

“My name is Jessica Cahill, I'm Melanie Harrison's sister,” she said.

A long breath filled the sound waves. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

“You knew Melanie?”

“I did, yes.”

The answer caught Jessie off-guard. She scrambled for what to ask next. “Um, what exactly do you do for Luke Harrison?”

“I'm one of his lawyers.”

“The reason I'm calling—”

“You want to find the diamonds.”

“Yes!”

“You and everyone else in that family. Unfortunately, I cannot help you. I have no idea how my name got in the mix of this situation.”

“My sister left me a note that said I'm to find Elizabeth.”

“I'm not the Elizabeth you're looking for, I'm sorry. She must have meant someone else.”

“How can that be?”

“Are you sure there's no one else in her life named Elizabeth?”

“I'm certain.”

“Well, whenever I build a case, I collect all the information first. I separate the relevant from the irrelevant. For example, take my name—Elizabeth. At first glance, it might be just that, a name. If you say you've exhausted finding any trace of Elizabeth in your sister's life, you have to consider the clue might be something else. Maybe Elizabeth is not a person. Maybe she's a place or an object; a painting, or
something
relevant to Melanie as opposed to
someone
.”

A chill shot down Jessie's back. She hadn't thought of that. “Do you mind if I ask about the last time you saw her?”

“A month ago, we met for lunch. She mentioned your wedding.”

Jessie's shoulders straightened. “She did?”

“Melanie did talk about you. She brought the invitation along with her. She showed me.” A male voice interrupted Elizabeth; she spoke to the other person and came back on the line. “I have to go. Is there anything else?”

“No.”

“If you want to ask me any other questions, call me. I might not get back to you right away, but I will return your message.”

Jessie put the phone on the bed at the same time someone knocked at the door.

“Mom,” she said, running to the door and flinging it open.

“I couldn't sleep,” Leslie said, and pushed past her daughter.

“What's wrong?”

Leslie laced her hands together and looked at the floor. “I came by to tell you the funeral's set for Saturday. I let Luke decide the location for the service and she'll be buried in a nearby cemetery.”

“I'm sorry about earlier.”

She waved off her daughter. “I don't care about what happened earlier. You have a right to say what you said; to want to bring her home.”

Jessie walked past her mother and sat in one of the chairs. “Has there been any word from Detective Brennan or the police?”

Leslie took a seat on the bed. The crying left her face washed-out and pale like the color of her hair. Even her blue eyes appeared dull and watery. “We've heard little today. There's not much news to share.”

“Does Luke suspect anyone?”

“No, he doesn't. Even if he did, I don't think he'd share his opinion with me. It makes me sick to my stomach to think whoever did this is running free while I'm planning her funeral.”

Jessie had been about to tell her mother about the encounter with the man in front of the hospital and she couldn't. She couldn't add more pain for her mother to bear.

“Would you like me to talk to Luke?” Jessie said.

“I don't think that's wise,” Leslie answered.

“I owe him an apology.”

“They'll be plenty of time for apologies. I don't want to think about anything but Melanie. Whatever will I do without her?”

Jessie moved over to the chair and sat with her mother. They sat together for some time.

Several floors below them the city kept on living. It was lunchtime, and people strolled down the sidewalks toward eateries. Cars moved through traffic. Leaves orange as pumpkins fell off the trees. The world moved around them. It didn't stop nor pause or allow time to slow down, not even for the two broken hearts sitting in Jessie's hotel room.

“What's next for us?” Jessie said, unlacing her arm from her mother's.

“We're to go back to Luke's later today.”

“So soon.”

“There's nowhere else for us to go. The rest of the relatives are coming up mid-week and your father's arriving later. I can't sit in the hotel room. I want to be close to Luke. In a weird way, he's all we've got at the moment.”

Jessie disagreed, but said nothing.

“I stopped by to ask you a question.”

“What?”

“All the stuff Luke talked about, the diamond and the note, those are the things you tried to tell me about. The reason you feel like you failed her.”

“Yes.”

“Have you told the police?”

“I have not and I have no good excuse for what I did.”

“Jessie! I need to know everything—
everything
that's gone on since the night you first saw Melanie at the hospital. I don't care if I have to sit here all day. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I got caught up in something bad. I didn't do anything I was supposed to do…” Jessie told her everything.

Leslie said nothing for a long minute after, and finally said, “You should have come to me. Instead you tried to play detective on your own. You could have been hurt or worse, killed. I don't know if Melanie's attacker has his eye on you next. How could you do this?” Leslie put her face in her hands. “Oh Jessie how could you do this?”

“I haven't stopped blaming myself for her death.”

“I don't know what to think of you.”

“Please, mom, don't hate me.”

Leslie stood abruptly. “I don't feel well. I'm going to my room.”

Jessie didn't try to stop her. She tried to keep busy, but there was nothing to do in this godforsaken room. Jessie rifled through her suitcase to try and find a clean sweater. Most of the tops in her suitcase showed off a great wardrobe for going out on the town, not for a funeral. She would have to pick up some clothes to wear. Jessie glanced up at the closet, at the dress hanging there. She traced her collarbone, thinking of the diamond necklace she'd worn.

A necklace!

Thrilled to have something more to think about than her mother's anger, Jessie turned her thoughts to the conversation with Elizabeth Downey. What if Elizabeth was the name of a diamond or a rare gemstone? Famous stones all had a name, at least the ones at the auction did.

She grabbed her phone and typed in the search box, “Famous Diamonds.”

The screen lit up with lists and images of these rarities. The Allnatt Diamond—101.29 carats, yellow, the colorless Archduke Joseph diamond—76.02 carats, Deyoung Red Diamond—5.03 carats, the colorless Orlov Diamond—190 carats, the Star of the South…she read on further and grew discouraged. None of these diamonds were named Elizabeth.

She typed in “the Abbott Tiara” and several links appeared. Some of the links connected Jefferies Abbott to the piece. Another mentioned the name Hugh and Victoria Abbott. The image of the tiara showed up in more than one place. The outright beauty of the image stunned Jessie. Green-gold inlay around the pink diamonds and at the center, the familiar green one. The entire tiara also included tiny white diamonds in between the larger stones. Jessie's hand crossed over her heart.

Further down the screen she selected a link. An image of Jefferies appeared. With his silver hair and penetrating eyes. A much younger woman accompanied him with her thin neck and a huge emerald necklace at her throat. The writer cited the woman as Victoria Abbott.

She kept scrolling. The last image she saw she recognized. The Lady Jane Diamond from the auction. “Whitaker's Auction House,” she mouthed. An idea formed. A couple of clicks on her phone and she found the phone number.

She dialed the number for Whitaker's and the call went straight to voicemail. “Hello, this message is for Salvador Alvarez. My name is Jessie Cahill, we met at the auction last night. I know this is a long shot, but I want to locate a specific diamond. I'm looking for the Elizabeth Diamond. If such a stone exists, please call me back.” She repeated her name and provided her phone number twice.

Surely he wouldn't call back. Jessie fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She tried to look at the situation from another angle. Elizabeth Downey had been right. Melanie's clue didn't necessarily mean a person, which meant the scope of possibilities for what she was looking for just got overwhelming. Elizabeth could mean anything to Melanie. Jessie groaned. She didn't even know what she was looking for.

The phone rang and she seized the phone. “Hello?” she answered desperately.

“Miss Cahill, this is Salvador. I remember our meeting quite well,” he said in a voice suave as velour.

She sat upright. “Thank you for returning my call.”

“All the pleasure is mine. I listened to your message.”

“You're…at Whitaker's?”

“Of course I am. I own it. Now, about your message. You'll have to elaborate a little for me.”

“I'm trying to find the Elizabeth Diamond, if such a thing exists at all.”