Diamond Deceit (4 page)

George had been listening to Bess's explanation, picking at imaginary pieces of lint on the blanket. Finally she said quietly, “I just can't imagine your living so far away, Bess.”

“You can come visit. It's a perfect vacation spot. Don't you love it here?” Bess asked enthusiastically. “Walks on the beach, golf, shopping . . .”

Ted was watching them carefully, Nancy noticed. No wonder he was so possessive of Bess—he didn't want Nancy or George to talk Bess out of staying in Carmel.

“You don't seem very happy for me,” Bess said.

“It's not that,” Nancy said quickly. “It's just that you really surprised us with this news.”

“You'll get used to it,” Ted said. After picking up one of the plastic containers of food, he began to spoon potato salad onto the six plastic plates. “Why don't we eat?”

Obviously Ted considered the matter settled. Nancy decided to let the subject drop—but only for now. She didn't want to ruin the picnic for everyone.

George leaned close to Nancy. “We need to talk to Bess about this move,” she whispered.

“Definitely,” Nancy agreed. “Later, when we can discuss it privately.”

• • •

Nancy's thoughts were still on Bess's proposed move an hour later as she made her way up Ocean Avenue to Marcia Cheung's jewelry store.

The picnic dinner had been delicious, but the mood was forced. Everyone had pretended to be happy, skirting the issue of Bess's move with smiles and small talk.

Nancy had been relieved when it was almost eight o'clock so she could excuse herself for her meeting with Marcia Cheung.

The sun had set during their beach picnic. As Nancy hurried up the hill, she saw that most of the stores were closed. There were a lot fewer
tourists milling about than there had been during the day. The lights were still on in Cheung Original Designs, but a Closed sign hung in the window.

Nancy knocked softly, and a moment later Marcia appeared in the doorway between the showroom and the back room. Seeing Nancy, Marcia hurried to the door.

“Nancy?” she mouthed through the glass door.

Nancy nodded, then moved to the side so Marcia could open the door. “Thanks for waiting around.”

“I had work to do, anyway,” Marcia said softly. “Come on back into my workroom. Can I get you some coffee or a soda?”

“No, thanks. I just ate way too much dinner,” Nancy said with a smile.

Marcia's room was dominated by a long, well-lit workbench with tools scattered on it. A desk covered with papers was pushed against the wall opposite the workbench, and a small safe sat in the far corner. There was a solid wood back door and no windows in the room.

“It's so nice of you to agree to help me,” Marcia said, smiling shyly.

“You may not think so after I ask you a million questions,” Nancy responded.

“Ask away,” Marcia said with a nervous chuckle. She gestured for Nancy to sit on one of the two swivel chairs in front of the desk. She took the other one.

Nancy was surprised by Marcia's quiet manner. It was in such marked contrast to Len's explosiveness. The couple certainly seemed like a case of opposites attracting.

Nancy decided to start with small talk, hoping to put Marcia at ease. “How long have you had your own studio?” she asked.

“About six months,” Marcia answered, “but I've been designing jewelry ever since I was a teenager. I majored in art at college, then went to work for Cy Baxter.”

Nancy nodded. “I visited Mr. Baxter this afternoon. He didn't seem very happy about your opening up your own shop,” she commented.

“He was furious!” Marcia exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Then, when Joanna Burton asked me to design a necklace for her, Cy called and accused me of stealing his client,” she added.

“Baxter told me that Miss Burton asked him to design the necklace first, but he wouldn't because she owed him money,” Nancy said. Now she wondered if he'd been lying. He could have said that just to save face.

“I wish he'd said something to me about the money,” Marcia said, sighing deeply. “Miss Burton still owes me a final payment, and I don't see how I can ask her for it now.”

Giving Marcia an apologetic smile, Nancy said, “I'm afraid I don't know anything about how jewelry design works. You'll have to explain
everything you did with the necklace before I can figure out who might have taken the diamonds.”

“Okay,” Marcia agreed. “First Miss Burton showed me the old necklace and said she wanted a new setting for the diamonds—there were a dozen stones,” she began.

“Did she leave the old necklace with you then?” Nancy asked.

Marcia shook her head. “No, she took it back while I worked on the design for the new setting. That took about a week. After she approved the design, she brought the old necklace back and left it—that was on a Monday, I remember.”

Nodding toward the safe, Marcia added, “The settings and diamonds were safely locked away every second I wasn't working on the necklace. I was finished with the new necklace by Friday, and Miss Burton picked it up the same day.”

So Marcia had had the necklace for four days, Nancy thought, doing the arithmetic in her head. Marcia—or someone else—would definitely have had the time to switch the diamonds for fakes. Glancing at the desk, Nancy noticed a pile of bills. She glimpsed a red “past due” sticker on one of them.

If Marcia or Len needed money, that would give them an even bigger motive, Nancy reasoned. She couldn't rule out the possibility that someone else was involved—someone like Cy Baxter.

“You're positive the stones in the old necklace were real diamonds?” Nancy asked.

Marcia nodded emphatically. “They were real, all right. The only difference in the necklace Miss Burton brought in and the necklace she picked up was the setting. The old necklace was heavy with gold. My design emphasized the diamonds.”

Marcia opened a drawer in the work desk and sifted through some files. Pulling a photograph from one of the files, she held it out to Nancy.

“This is beautiful,” Nancy said. The necklace in the photo featured diamonds of different sizes set in a fanciful and elegant design. “Joanna Burton must have been very pleased with it.”

“Len said she absolutely raved about it,” Marcia said proudly.

“Len?” Nancy was surprised.

Marcia nodded. “I wasn't here when Joanna came to pick it up.” Marcia's hands were moving constantly as she spoke, and Nancy glanced down to see what she was doing. Marcia had on a gold charm bracelet, which she turned around and around on her wrist.

“We saw charms just like those on your bracelet when we were at Cy Baxter's shop this afternoon,” Nancy commented.

“They're all Cy Baxter charms,” Marcia said, smiling. “Charms are his trademark. That's why I don't make them here. I didn't think it would be fair to him.”

Nancy was impressed with Marcia's loyalty to the man. He obviously considered Marcia a traitor, though. The real question was, did Cy resent Marcia enough to set her up for diamond theft?

“Cy said he noticed scratches on the necklace when Joanna Burton brought it to him to be appraised,” Nancy said, watching Marcia carefully for her reaction.

“Scratches?” Marcia was genuinely horrified. “I'm sure there weren't any when I left the necklace for Miss Burton.”

“Could Len have made some adjustments before Joanna picked it up?” Nancy asked, glancing at all the tools lying around.

Marcia laughed. “Len would never touch a piece of jewelry. He's much more comfortable with a sledgehammer. It may not look hard, but setting jewels is delicate work requiring certain skills.” With another laugh she added, “I assure you, Len definitely does
not
have those skills.”

Len did seem to be the only one besides Marcia who'd had access to the necklace before it was returned to Joanna Burton, Nancy thought. Since Marcia hadn't been in the shop when the actress picked up the necklace, she couldn't know for sure that the necklace still had the real diamonds in it.

Nancy walked over to the back door and examined the lock. “Does anyone besides you have a key to the shop?” she asked.

“Len does, of course. Other than that, the rental company may have one. We added a security system monitored by a local company after we rented the shop. Jewelry stores are always a potential target for theft.” Marcia showed Nancy the electronic panel beside the back door. A light on it was blinking red.

“What does the red light mean?” Nancy asked.

“That the alarm is off,” Marcia explained. “When it's on, the light is green. This door leads into an alley, but we rarely use it. There's a second panel beside the front door. Every morning we enter a code to deactivate the system, and we activate it when we leave at night.”

Nancy's gaze skimmed over the work area again. “Who has access to the safe?” she asked Marcia.

“Len and I are the only ones who know the combination.”

Nancy had no more questions for the moment. She wanted to talk to Joanna Burton, though. The actress might be able to tell her if anyone else had access to the necklace.

When Nancy asked Marcia for Joanna Burton's telephone number, Marcia handed her a business card. “Len mentioned that you might need the number, so I wrote it down for you. The card has the number here at the store. And my home number is noted beneath it, in case you have any more questions.”

Nancy glanced at her watch. It was past eight-thirty.
“Can I use your phone to call Miss Burton? I'd like to try to set up an appointment with her before it gets too late.”

“No problem,” Marcia said. She gestured toward the phone on the desk. “We have two lines. One is for the jewelry shop, and one is for Len's landscaping business,” she explained as she walked into the front room. Nancy punched in the numbers Marcia had written on the back of the card. The line was busy. Nancy leaned against the desk to wait.

Just then the doorknob on the back door rattled, startling Nancy. She froze, all her attention focused on the door. If it was Len, she'd expect to hear a key in the lock. Instead she heard a scraping against the wood.

Moving quickly to the door, Nancy pressed her ear against it and heard someone moving outside. She took a deep breath and unlocked the deadbolt. Then she slowly eased the door open and slipped outside.

Nancy gasped as a tall shape lunged out of the shadows at her. Before she could react, the figure had reached out and grabbed her!

N
ANCY SCREAMED
as her arms were pulled behind her and held in a grip of iron. She struggled to free herself, but her attacker was too strong.

“Marcia! Call for help!” Nancy shouted back into the building.

Footsteps raced into the workroom. “Morgan! It's okay,” Nancy heard Marcia shout.

When Nancy was free to turn around and confront her attacker she found herself face-to-face with one of the handsomest men she'd ever seen. His eyes were a bright aqua blue, and his skin was perfectly tanned. His thick, wavy brown hair was streaked with sun-bleached highlights as if he spent a lot of time at the beach.

“Marcia, sorry,” the man said in a deep,
resonant voice. “I was making my rounds, checking to make sure your door was locked, and then it was slowly pushed open. I thought whoever was coming out was sneaking out. Very sorry, miss,” he said to Nancy.

“Nancy, this is Morgan Fowler. He works for Seaside Security, the company that monitors our alarm system,” Marcia explained.

Morgan's eyes widened as he took in Nancy. “I don't think I've had the pleasure,” he said, holding out his hand. When Nancy shook it, Morgan held on a little longer than he needed. “A friend of yours, Marcia?” he asked, never taking his eyes off Nancy.

“Nancy's staying at the Provence Inn. She's helping Len and me find out what happened to Joanna Burton's necklace. She's a detective,” Marcia explained. Turning to Nancy, she added, “We've already talked to the security company about the necklace. They've assured us that there was no lapse in security. Neither the guards nor Len nor I noticed any sign of a break-in.”

Morgan seemed to have heard only Marcia's first words. “So you're a detective?” he asked. “Perhaps you could use some help.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I'm doing fine on my own,” Nancy said pleasantly. She wasn't sure if he was being condescending, or if he was just flirting.

“Anyway, Morgan may not be working for Seaside much longer,” Marcia put in. “He's an
actor up for a movie role that it looks like he'll get.”

So he was an actor, Nancy mused. She wasn't surprised. It seemed to her that Morgan had been performing since they'd met.

“As soon as the part comes through, I'm out of here,” Morgan said smugly. “Still, I'll keep my eyes open.” He gave Nancy and Marcia a two-finger salute, then walked back through the alley, whistling.