Pearl Cove (25 page)

There isnt enough time on earth to appreciate your pearls, Archer said. Ha. Your
collection Is just beginning, Archer cut in firmly. I still say that if you would trade
that South Seas gold paragon for our

Quit tormenting the boy, Becky, Fred interrupted. He tugged at the string tie he wore. His
white shirt was so worn it gleamed like silk at the collar and elbows, but it was clean as
a pearl. He doesnt want to let go of that beauty, and I dont blame him. Instead of
badgering him, lets show him the new stuff. I want his advice on one of the lots.

Im flattered, Archer said.

You should be, Fred retorted. Im old, but Im not a fool. I know my eyes arent what they
used to be, even with magnifying lenses. The boy we hired to color-sort isnt as good as he
thinks he is. He sure as hell isnt as good as you are.

Oh, all right, Becky grumbled. Well go to the sorting room.

Hannah didnt wait for a second invitation. She headed straight for the room that opened
off the rows of display cases.

In some ways, walking through the wide door was like corning home. In one important way it
wasnt: Len wasnt sitting in the corner, staring at her with eyes that werent quite sane.

Nor was there the chatter and laughter of the Chinese workers who had slowly replaced the
Japanese employees in Pearl Cove.

What are you assembling here? Archer asked. He gestured to a sorting table where three
groups of pearls were lined up on three different trays. The trays had channels of
different sizes to hold the pearls in parallel, horizontal rows from top to bottom. Each
tray held a separate color of South Seas pearls: black, gold, white. A nearby table held
more pearls of each color, each in a separate tray. Small shipping boxes were stacked in
the center. Each contained more pearls.

Thats the beginnings of a necklace, part of a parure for an old client. Fred sighed. Or it
will be if we ever get enough of the right pearls. Makes my eyes hurt just to think about
it.

How many do you need?

Fifty of each. Minimum. A hundred would be better. Spherical is preferred. The client can
afford it and we have our eye on another acquisition for our museum. Archer smiled in
silent sympathy.

Hannah went to the table, looked at the pearls that were being sorted, and glanced over at
the nearby table. Is your first sort for color?

Yes, Becky said. Since several pieces of jewelry are involved, color is more important
than size variations. Luster is a very, very close second. So is shape.

May I? Hannah asked. Becky looked at Archer.

Im told shes one of the best, he said simply. Go ahead, Becky said, gesturing.

Absently Hannah nodded. She was already focused entirely on the pearls. Switching on the
overhead light, she began with the silver-white pearls. The gradations of color were both
subtle and profound, enough for a roomful of philosophers to argue over. Yet she saw the
differences as clearly as other people saw the gap between yellow, orange, and red.

Humming softly, enjoying the cool, silky weight of the pearls and the feeling of solving a
fascinating puzzle, she sorted the gems. Like a Chinese merchant working an abacus, her
fingers flew over the rows

of pearls. Unlike an abacus, the pearls were free to jump up or down in the parallel rows.

When the sleeves of the jacket draped over her shoulders kept getting in the way, Archer
removed it. She didnt even pause in her work. In fact, he doubted if she even noticed what
he had done. She was wholly caught in the spell of the pearls and the challenge of
matching them one by one.

When she was finished, she stepped back. Only seven of the hundred pearls had survived the
sort. She had placed them side by side on the top row of the tray. The rest were lined up
on the rows below in order of diminishing acceptability of the color match.

My God, Fred said, staring.

Incredible, Becky agreed. She stepped forward and bent over the tray. Youre very good,
dear.

The pearls in the next row are an acceptable match, Hannah said, particularly if youre
looking for a bracelet or a brooch to go with the necklace. But I sorted first for the
necklace, because thats always the most difficult. Rather wistfully she looked at the
table where other pearls waited to be sorted.

Go ahead, Archer said quietly. I dont think the Linskys will mind.

Mind? Becky laughed in disbelief. Youve accomplished more in a few minutes than any of us
have in hours.

You had already done the initial sort on that lot, Hannah pointed out.

Dont bother to be modest, Becky retorted. Ill bet you could have done the first sort buck
naked and standing on your head.

Ive never tried it that way. Hannah smiled as she added, Standing on my head, that is.

Fred laughed and his brown eyes glinted with a wicked male light.

Archer swallowed hard. The thought of watching her naked in a room full of pearls made
heat settle heavily in the pit of his stomach. The smooth texture of her skin would rival
that of the pearls. The flush of passion would be more beautiful than any pearly luster...
and her sleek heat would be a delicious contrast to the cool heaviness of pearls.

But its too cold to work naked here, she added, so Ill do it the hard way.

She turned to the next table, where groups of pearls were spread out flat. With amazing
speed she moved pearls around in the first group, following clues only she could see. Very
quickly she divided the group into two piles. The first she simply pushed aside and didnt
look at again.

Do you have more trays or should I use the one on the other table? she asked without
looking away from the pearls. We have more, Becky said. Coming up, Fred said.

Nodding vaguely, Hannah moved on to another unsorted pile. When the trays appeared at her
elbow, she put them to use without a word. The only sound in the room was her soft
humming. The tunes were a mixture of Australian folk songs and the hymns she had been
raised with. Though the speed of the music varied, her concentration didnt.

Archer watched every move she made. He was fascinated by her skill, her quickness, her
agile fingers. He considered himself a good pearl sorter, but she was better. Much better.
Even in Mikimotos huge sorting rooms, he had never seen anyone work with her speed and
precision. No wonder Len had demanded that she match the Black Trinity for him.

Rows of pearls formed with dazzling speed on the sorting trays. Once the gems were lined
up, the subtle color variations that separated one line from the next became more obvious.
Sometimes it was simply a matter of surface perfection. Most often the differences lay in
the orient, beyond mans ability to touch or change. Orient was the soul of the pearl, the
mystery of it, and the primal magic; the god seed that mankind had worshiped for thousands
of years.

Hannah looked at the finished trays, stepped back, swapped several pearls among the trays,
and brooded over the result. One tray held only twelve pearls. Each one had the same
silver-white, moon-goddess sheen. She turned back to the first tray she had sorted, picked
up the seven gems from

the top row, and mixed them in with the twelve other pearls. The match was perfect.
Archers skin prickled in primal response to the gift Hannah took for granted. It was one
thing to color-match while looking at the pearls; it was quite another to have a visual
memory so precise that you could match new pearls to remembered ones without ever
comparing them except in your mind.

If he had any doubts about her statement that she would recognize individual pearls from
the Black Trinity no matter where she found them, he had no doubts now.

I wouldnt have believed it if I hadnt seen it, Fred said in a hushed voice. She never even
looked back at the first group.

Dear, any time you want a job, come to us, Becky said. Wed pay twice the going rate three
times for someone with your skill.

Hannah made an absent sound. Her attention was on the unopened boxes of pearls. I love
matching them. Its like an endless, beautiful puzzle. The only thing I enjoy as much is
carving wood, but all my tools are in Broome.

Well, in that case, Becky said, heading for the unopened boxes, why dont we dive into a
few more of these lots?

Archer started to object, but decided not to. The haunted look was gone from Hannahs eyes.
For now she wasnt thinking of Len and death and the Black Trinity. If sorting pearls gave
her that much pleasure, then the rest of the world could just stay on hold for a while
longer.

Wait, Fred said. Do you remember all pearl colors that well, or just white?

My husband and I farmed South Seas pearls, Hannah said. We had every color.

Then maybe you can settle an argument my wife and I have been having. Thats why we asked
Archer to come here. I bought some pearls I think are abalone, even though theyre big and
round. She says theyre from cultured saltwater oysters.

I dont know if I could tell the difference, Hannah said. Ive only worked with saltwater
oyster pearls.

I might be able to, Archer said.

Lets see what you have.

Fred went to an electronic wall safe, entered the combination on a number pad whose keys
were capped with mother-of-pearl, and pulled out a velvet jewelers case.

If theyre abalone, he said, walking back to Hannah and Archer, then theyre basically
museum goods. The chance of finding enough for commercial use would be slim, because
abalone pearls are nearly always baroque.

But if theyre cultured oyster pearls, Becky said, there are more where they came from.

These are too colorful to come from oysters, Fred objected as he opened the case.

Rainbows swirled and smoldered beneath clear black ice. The pearls were perhaps fourteen
millimeters, spherical, and had superb orient.

Oyster, Hannah said huskily. Cultured. Australian.

But Fred began.

Shes right, Archer said flatly. If you cut one of them open, youd find a bead of American
pigtoe mussel. In fact, Hannah could have seeded the oyster that produced that pearl
herself.

Told you, Becky said. If you would ever listen to me, you wouldnt have to bother other
people with your problems.

Fred shot her a look. She smiled serenely.

May I look at the pearls more closely? Hannah asked.

Grumbling at having lost an argument to his wife, Fred handed the box to Hannah. Silently
she turned toward better light and studied the pearls. After a time she carefully closed
the box and gave it back to Fred.

Hannah? Archer asked softly.

She shook her head. However beautiful the pearls were, however valuable, they werent from
the Black Trinity. A different group.

Where can I get more of these? Fred asked.

Wherever you got those, Archer said before Hannah could answer.

He said these were all he had.

Who was he? Archer asked.

Fred hesitated, then sighed. Theyre stolen, arent they. It wasnt really a question.

Yes, Hannah said simply.

From you?

Yes. And from Archer. Were partners in an Australian periculture operation.

Fred looked at Archer, who nodded.

Youve been sitting on pearls like this all these years and never told me? Fred demanded,
angry and more than a little hurt.

My partners husband was sitting on them, Archer said. I saw one about seven years ago,
then never saw another until last week. Who sold them to you?

Fred opened the box and stared at the pearls, frowning. He wasnt happy about any of it,
especially the knowledge that he had bought stolen goods from a longstanding source. He
snapped the box closed. Teddy Yamagata.

Impatiently Hannah stared at the cafe doorway as she tapped her short, buffed fingernails
over the forest-green Formica of the table. Two tall double Americanos sent heat and
fragrance up into the air. Archer was halfway through his. She had taken only a few sips.
Espresso was a taste she hadnt yet acquired.

Why dont we just invite them over to have coffee with us while we wait for Yamagata? she
asked irritably.

Archer didnt need to look over his shoulder to know who Hannah was talking about. The Feds
were discreet but hardly invisible. They were parked just inside the front door of the
small cafe, sucking up prime caffeine with the gratitude of stakeout cops who were more
accustomed to muddy sludge than the kick-butt espresso of good Seattle coffee.

Outside the warm little cafe, wind blew clouds and rain sideways. Though it was only two
oclock, the streets were dark slices of autumn-to-winter gloom. The interior of the cafe
was bright, colorful, and painfully retro. Neon light fixtures arced down the wall to end
up in pots whose tall plants were made of welded junk. Vintage Rolling Stones pounded out
of speakers the size of fists. Two espresso machines screamed and frothed, slamming steam
through darkly aromatic coffee.

He glanced at his watch. If Teddy didnt put a hustle on, they would be late for the party
that The Donovan had rescheduled when his oldest son left so abruptly for Australia.

Do Feds always work in pairs? Hannah asked. Except when they work in fours, sixes, eights,
and more. Is that your governments answer to unemployment? Its your government, too. She
blinked. Its been so long that I forgot. Tell me again why my government is following me.
To see where you go. Right. Why cant I remember that?

When she saw the small smile tugging at Archers mouth, she wanted to lean forward and
brush her lips over his. Then the smile vanished, leaving behind a man with remote
gray-green eyes and a midnight stubble accenting the hard lines of his face. That was the
face he had showed her since last night: cold, hard, distant. If he touched her, it was as
impersonal as rain. About as warm, too.

She told herself it was better that way.

And knew she lied.

She wanted his incandescent sensuality again. She wanted to feel her body ignite, to burn
from the inside out, to be drawn on a rack of passion until she shattered into a million
bright pieces of ecstasy... and then to sleep tangled with him, certain that he felt as
she did. Complete.

She hadnt known that kind of pleasure existed between a man and a woman. Knowing, she
couldnt forget, couldnt ignore, couldnt stop wanting more.

Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight Ill get past his pride. I know he wants me. His
eyes are controlled, but his body isnt. Not always. I can raise his heart rate just by
leaning against his arm. He can raise mine just as easily. Were adults who owe nothing to
anyone. Theres no reason not to be lovers.

Unbidden, memories of Summer flicked through Hannahs mind. The relaxed, satin weight of
the child resting against her arm and her hip. The sweetly drooling smile. Clear
gray-green eyes watching her, glinting with laughter and intelligence.

Archers eyes.

If you wanted a child without complications, you should have gone to a sperm bank.

He and Len were alike in so many ways, it irritated Hannah that they couldnt have been
alike when it came to children. Len hadnt worried when she miscarried. If anything, he was
pleased; he didnt want children. Ever. After her miscarriage, she agreed with him. She
would have no more children, not with a man who was too ruthless to be trusted with a
childs fragile heart. She had taken great care not to become pregnant. After Lens
accident, the question of children was answered. There would be none. Ever.

Then Len had died and she had fallen headlong into passion with another man who was too
ruthless to be trusted with a childs heart; enjoying a niece wasnt the same as having the
patience and generosity of spirit to raise a child.

Bitterly she wondered if there was something wrong in her, if unsuitable men would be the
only kind she ever responded to sexually.

Beneath her bitterness was fear, the growing certainty that whatever man she finally chose
as her mate, the passion she felt with Archer was unique to him. Even before Lens spine
was severed, her husband had only skimmed the surface of her sensual possibilities. Other
men hadnt managed even that. She had never looked at them and speculated how they might be
as a lover; they simply didnt interest her sexually.

But Archer had and did. Instantly. Urgently.

Fear snaked through Hannah as she understood that she might marry and have children
someday, but they wouldnt be conceived in blinding ecstasy. She would respond to no other
man as she did to Archer Donovan.

The certainty made her both angry and bleak, like Archers eyes watching her right now.
Teddys coming in the front door, Archer said. Then, reluctantly, Are you all right? Bloody
wonderful. Why? You look... Frightened. Exhausted. Hun. ... pale.

Then I should fit right in with the natives. The emptiness in Hannahs voice was as
unmistakable as the lines of tension and pain etching her face.

You should have let me take you back to the condo, he said. You need rest.

Dont worry, boy-o. Im not made of frigging French glass.

It had been one of Lens favorite sayings. Repeating it in Lens cadences gave Hannah a
certain bitter pleasure. Seeing the narrowing of Archers eyes gave her more.

Im with you every step of the way to the Black Trinity, she said in a low, savage tone, so
stop trying to dump me on your family while you run off and play without me.

Teddy dragged out a chair and sat down. Drops of water sparkled on his high forehead and
his red pullover rain jacket. He unzipped the neck opening as far as it would go,
revealing a startling pineapple-yellow shirt with a bright explosion of leaves strewn
across the front. He nodded to Hannah before turning to the man who was watching him with
an unsmiling face and eyes that were a lot colder than the rain outside.

Im supposed to be at SeaTac in an hour, Teddy said to Archer. Whats on your mind? The
pearls you sold to the Linskys. Ive sold lots of- You start bullshitting me and youll miss
your plane.

Teddy smiled slightly and leaned back, prepared to do what he was best at: bargaining. Oh,
those pearls.

A server appeared and looked at Teddy expectantly. He wont be here long enough for coffee,
Archer said.

I can make it to go, the server said, then took a good look at Archer. Uh, never mind. Do
you want your check, sir?

Not yet.

The server smiled brightly and got out of Archers line of sight as fast as she could.

Archer never took his eyes off Teddy.

I would have offered the pearls to you, but you were in Australia, Teddy said.

Who sold them to you?

None of your business.

Wrong answer.

Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I have a connection.

Who?

Damn it, thats-

Who sold you those pearls? Archer cut in coldly.

Teddy had heard a few things about Archers past. Right now he believed every one of them.
There was no bargain to be struck here, only the kind of trouble a wise man avoided.

A man from Broome.

A man from Broome, Archer repeated neutrally, praying Hannah would stay out of it. Name?

He didnt tell me.

Keep it up and youll miss that plane and every one after it until were finished talking.

Unhappily Teddy took off his glasses, polished them, and put them back on. Cleaner lenses
didnt help. Archer still looked like an executioner.

Well, hell, Teddy muttered. His wife had been right: He shouldnt have bought the pearls
from a man he didnt know. A nervous man, at that. Yet the pearls had been so
extraordinary. And so cheap. Qing Lu Yin.

Hannah stiffened.

He was the original owner, Teddy said, glancing at her curiously. He gave me a bill of
sale. It was all done on the books and aboveboard.

Wheres the bill of sale? Archer asked.

Sighing, Teddy pulled a breast wallet from his rain jackets belly pocket. He had hoped he
wouldnt need the bill of sale for this meeting, but he had been afraid he would. Something
about those pearls had fairly shouted of trouble. Reluctantly he took out a sheet of paper.

Its a copy, he said, passing the sheet over to Archer. Ideographs marched down the
right-hand side of the page. A smudged thumbprint sat crookedly on one corner. Letters and
numbers were neatly written under the print.

Keep it, Teddy said. I have the original in my files.

I didnt know you could read Chinese, Archer said.

I cant. For all I know, it could be a laundry list. Thats why I insisted on a thumbprint
and a drivers license. Washington, state of. Thats the number below the print.

How did you meet him? Archer asked. A cold phone call from an intermediary who saw my ad
in the phone book. In Australia? No. Seattle.

Adrenaline licked lightly beneath Archers skin. A man who wrote only Chinese, yet had a
Washington drivers license-probably a fake, or one that was borrowed/stolen from another
Chinese. But all he said was, Hes here?

He was two days ago. Where is he staying? I dont know. Where did you meet him? Unhappily
Teddy tugged at one earlobe. Some dump on Third Street called the Dragon Moon. Didnt we
pass it on the way to the Pearl Exchange? Hannah asked.

Archer nodded. Like any city, Seattle had some open civic sores despite persistent urban
renewal. The land where Donovan International and the Donovan condo had been built was
part of an urban renewal project. The Dragon Moon was one of the oozing pockets that had
escaped razing and rebuilding. It was only three blocks away from the Donovan condo.

Youre a brave man, Archer said. Or a dumb one. Teddy sighed again. Hell, its hardly the
first Asian dive Ive been in. Youre lucky it wasnt the last.

Yeah, I got that impression. The customers were as tough a bunch as Ive seen, and Ive seen
more than a few. I made real sure we conducted our business at the table closest to the
front door and my back was to the wall.

One corner of Archers mouth kicked up. Beneath the easy grin and loud shirt, Teddy was no
fool. Cash? Archer asked. What do you think? Cash. How much?

Teddy grimaced. Five hundred each. Fifty-five hundred total.

With no change of expression, Archer filed the fact that the thief either didnt know what
the pearls were worth or didnt have the contacts to get a better price. You must have
thought youd died and gone to heaven.

Not until I was out the door, in a cab, and across town, Teddy admitted. Then I smiled a
lot. Where are the rest of the pearls? What pearls? The ones you didnt buy until you were
sure these were good.

Teddys jaw dropped. How did you know? Archer just smiled. It wasnt a friendly gesture. How
many pearls does he have?

He didnt say.

What kind?

Black, mainly. The special kind of black.

When are you meeting him again?

Who says I am?

I do. Youre a good pearl man, Teddy, but youre greedy. The goods are stolen. You know it
as well as I do.

I dont know any such thing. He smiled an off-center smile. So tell me how is it better if
you buy them than if I do?

Theyre already half mine by law.

Teddy shut his mouth, studied Archer, then slowly shook his head. Nope. Im not buying it.

Hannah flicked her nails against the tabletop, drawing Teddys attention. Youd better buy
it, boy-o, or youll go to jail for receiving stolen goods.

Whos she? Teddy asked.

Hannah McGarry. She owns the other half of Pearl Cove, the Australian pearl farm that grew
those black rainbows.

Well... shit. Teddy leaned back in his chair and sighed hugely. On the good-news side, I
wasnt looking forward to seeing the Dragon Moon again.

Neither was Archer. But how he felt about it wasnt on the table. When? Tomorrow morning.
You werent flying very far today, were you? Hannah asked idly, but her eyes were cold
indigo. Just down to San Francisco. She raised her dark eyebrows. Look, Teddy said
defensively, he gave me a bill of sale In Chinese, which you dont read, she cut in.
for those pearls. Thats all the law requires.

For a moment she closed her eyes. Weariness rolled through her like a long, breaking wave.
The letter of the law. Lovely. Then, before Teddy could say any more, her eyes opened
again. They were as bleak as Archers. Im not judging you, Mr. Yamagata. If I did, Id say
that youre more honest than the law requires in the vast majority of your dealings. This
deal, however, was the exception that proved your rule.

Teddy grimaced and didnt argue. Theres something about those pearls.... They blunt a mans
judgment, she said curtly. Im surprised you sold them. Im a trader, not a collector. For
me its the deal, not the goods. What time tomorrow are you meeting Yin? Hannah asked.

Six a.m. I didnt think the Dragon Moon opened that early, Archer said. Teddy shrugged.
They probably feed a lot of the invisible workers.

Illegal immigrants, Archer explained to Hannah. The ones who work for a few bucks a day in
eight-by-ten sweatshops or fancy restaurants to pay off the smuggler who got them into the
U.S. Obviously a Red Phoenix Triad smuggler, in this case.

Teddy winced. Cmon, Archer. The place is a dump, but not that bad.

The Dragon Moon is the Red Phoenix base in Seattle, Archer said matter-of-factly. There
are apartments above the restaurant for visitors from Hong Kong, Kowloon, Shanghai, the
southern provinces of China, and anywhere else the triad has its tentacles. Everything the
triad buys, sells, steals,

or makes in illegal labs can be found inside the Dragon Moons riot-proof metal doors.

How do you know? Teddy demanded.

Does it matter?