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Authors: Amanda Lee

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BOOK: Thread Reckoning
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She opened the tote bag and took out a cross-stitch piece she’d completed. It was a lovely landscape of a meadow in springtime.

“This is beautiful,” I said.

“Thank you. But what can I do about this?” she asked, pointing to a ring left by the embroidery hoop.

“It isn’t terribly bad. I have a solution of water and white vinegar that might help. Either have a seat or look around the shop while I see what I can do.” I went into my office and took a small ironing board, an iron, and a spray bottle of water and white vinegar solution out of the closet. I plugged in the iron. While it heated up, I called to the customer and asked if she’d like a cup of coffee or tea.

“No, thank you,” she called back. “You have some wonderful pattern books.”

“Thank you.” I licked the middle finger of my left hand and tapped it quickly to the bottom of the iron. It was almost there. I sprayed the backside of the fabric lightly with the water and vinegar solution and then pressed it with the iron. I turned the fabric over. It took one more spray application and pressing before the ring disappeared. I turned off and unplugged the iron before taking the cross-stitched landscape back to the customer.

She was relieved. “I appreciate your help so much. Do I owe you anything?”

“Of course not. I’m just glad I could help.”

She bought a couple pattern books before leaving.

I rang up the sale, turned off the lights, and locked the doors. Then Angus and I left. I now needed to rush in order to get him home and get back to the Brew Crew by six o’clock to meet with Agent Daltrey.

As I was driving, my phone rang. It was Riley.

“Hi,” she said. “I’ve been looking into David’s employment background. His last job was with the Santiago Corporation.”

“When did it end?” I asked.

“A couple weeks ago.”

“That’s good,” I said. “Right?”

“Expound, please.”

Riley and her lawyerly phrases. “It means he didn’t come here to spy on Francesca Ortega or do anything for the Santiago Corporation, right?”

“Not unless he hoped to get back in the CEO′s good graces by doing some freelance work,” she said.

“No,” I said. “I can’t believe that. Or, at least, I can’t until I talk with David about it. I have to believe this is all a weird coincidence. David might be a lot of things, but he isn’t a murderer.”

“I’ve never met the man, so I’ll have to take your word on that one. Just be careful.”

I made it back to the Brew Crew at five fifty-seven p.m. Todd was talking with a man in a navy blue suit. He waved me over, so I guessed the man was Agent Daltrey. From behind, the man looked smaller than I’d thought he would be. I was expecting an Agent Booth (okay, so Mom had got me thinking about David Boreanaz) or at least an Agent Mulder . . . or was it Agent Scully? I never could keep those two straight.

When I reached the bar, Agent Daltrey turned and held out his hand. After I shook the man’s hand, I glanced at Todd. They were roughly the same age, but Todd would make two of Agent Daltrey. I always thought FBI agents were large and imposing. This man with his receding hairline, wire-rimmed glasses, and shy smile looked more like a computer genius. Maybe he was. Maybe that’s the division of the FBI he worked within.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agent Daltrey,” I said. “Thank you for coming.”

“The pleasure is mine, Marcy. And please call me Jason.”

“Can I get you two something to drink?” Todd asked. “It’s on the house.”

“In that case, I’ll have a diet soda,” I said, with a grin. “And make it a double.”

“Make mine a regular,” Jason said.

“Is it okay to talk here?” I asked, looking around the crowded pub.

“You’re welcome to use my office,” Todd said.

“Why don’t we do that?” Jason asked. “Todd, show us the way.”

I’d never been in Todd’s office, so I was eager to see what it looked like. It was neater than I’d expected it to be. Not that Todd was a slob or anything, but I thought the bar itself would take precedence over the office and administrative duties in his estimation. There was a large walnut desk in the middle of the floor. He had two black desk trays stacked on top of each other. Both trays had some papers in them, making me think they were his in and out boxes. A large cup resembling the cap from a red ballpoint ink pen held a variety of pens and pencils. An electric calculator occupied the right-hand corner of the desk, and a stack of notepads were on the left. A calendar was in the middle of the desk. I noticed the date of the masquerade ball had been circled.

Uh-oh
.

Jason took a seat behind the desk, and I sat in the one chair in front of the desk. Jason immediately took one of the notepads off the stack and a pen from the pencil cup.

“I’ll check back on you guys in a few minutes,” Todd said. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the office and pulling the door closed behind him.

I immediately looked down at my folded hands. I felt so guilty! It wasn’t like Todd and I had any sort of agreement. And he hadn’t asked me to the masquerade ball. We’d been on a few dates, but it wasn’t anything serious.

“What’s that about?” Jason asked.

I raised my head. “Excuse me?”

“Why did Todd kissing your cheek make you uncomfortable?”

My eyes darted around the room. “Because you’re here? And I don’t know you?”

“No, that’s not it. Are you seeing someone else?”

I gaped. And then I stammered, “W-we—Todd and I—we aren’t in a serious relationship. We date . . . on occasion . . . but neither of us is ready to . . . commit.”

Jason nodded. “Or, at least, you’re not. But you’re afraid Todd might be.” He shrugged. “That’s between the two of you. I was just curious, that’s all.”

Wow
. FBI people really are incredibly perceptive—or, at least, this one was. It was kind of spooky.

“Let’s get to the jewelry.” He took some photographs out of the breast pocket of his sport coat. “Concentrate on the stones, not on the actual pieces, and tell me if any of these look like what you saw.” He placed the photographs on the desk in front of me.

I leaned in to get a better look at the jewelry. “
Ooh
, I love this necklace.” There was a photograph showing a close-up of a triple strand of diamonds and pearls interrupted by larger cabochon blue sapphires. “It’s beautiful.”

Beside the close-up of the necklace was one of a bracelet that was obviously a companion piece. It, too, had three strands of diamonds, pearls, and blue sapphires. I could imagine myself wearing the necklace and bracelet as part of my masquerade ball ensemble.

“Are there matching earrings?” I asked.

“Marcy, please look at the stones and tell me if they could be the ones you were using to embellish Cassandra Wainwright’s wedding gown.” He took a small case from his pocket, opened it, and removed a magnifying glass. “Maybe this will help you see the stones independent of their settings.” He handed me the magnifying glass.

I peered through the magnifying glass at the stones. The sapphires could be the ones Francesca Ortega had delivered to the shop to be put on the gown. The pearls and diamonds were consistent with the gemstones she had brought as well. But that didn’t necessarily mean they came from these pieces. Did it?

“Are they the ones you were working with?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “They could be. But there were also some larger pearls.”

“We haven’t looked at everything in the collection yet. But you believe the sapphires you saw could have been the ones composing this necklace and this bracelet. Is that correct?”

I raised my eyes to his. “I can’t say for certain, but, yes, it looks like them.”

“Very well. Let’s move on to the pearls.” He gathered the photographs of the triple-strand necklace and bracelet and returned them to his pocket.

He took out a photograph of a pearl necklace. The pearls graduated in size from a sixteenmillimeter center pearl to five-millimeter pearls at the clasp.

I looked at the pearls through the magnifying glass, but I was conflicted. “These might be the pearls I used or they might not. I’m not a jeweler. I thought the stones Ms. Ortega brought in were from a craft or beading supply shop.”

“I realize that,” Jason said. “All I’m asking you is whether or not the stones in the pieces I’ve shown you were like the ones you were using or that you saw.”

“Okay. Then, yes, they are.”

“Now, are you ready to learn where these stones came from?” he asked.

“Maybe.” Something in his voice told me I might not be.

Todd opened the door and stuck his head in. “How’re you guys doing? Need more sodas?”

Jason shook his head. “Nope, I’m good. Thanks.”

“I’m fine, too,” I said. “Thank you.”

Todd tilted his head. “Are you sure?” He glanced from me to Jason and back again. “You look a little pale, Marce. Are you feeling all right?”

Guilt, guilt, double guilt.

I gave him a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

“I was just getting ready to tell her where I think the jewels might’ve come from,” Jason said. “Want to push up the door and stay?”

“Sure.” Todd pulled another chair over next to mine. It was a folding chair that had been in the corner. I hadn’t noticed it before. He sat down and took my hand.

His hand was warm and strong. My hand felt nice ensconced in his. I squeezed Todd’s hand, glad he was here. I didn’t know Jason, and he was making me a little uncomfortable with all his suspenseful buildup about where the jewelry had come from. Besides that, Jason knew I was keeping something from Todd. I didn’t look at Jason when I squeezed Todd’s hand. I kept my eyes focused on the photograph of the pearl necklace.

“So, where do you think the jewels came from?” Todd asked Jason.

“According to our JAG database—that’s the FBI′s Jewelry and Gem Database—these pieces were among jewelry reported stolen by a Mrs. June Santiago in October of last year.”

Now I did look at Jason. “I’m guessing June Santiago is related to the Santiagos who own the Santiago Corporation?”

“She’s the matriarch,” Jason said. “She’s married to Caleb Sr.”

“And you think the jewels Francesca Ortega brought me to adorn Cassandra’s dress were taken from the necklaces and bracelet you showed me?” I asked.

“Yes, I do.”

I shook my head. “But I had dinner with Caleb Santiago Jr. on Saturday evening, and I asked him about the jewels. He never said anything about his mother′s jewelry being stolen.”

“Maybe he was being evasive,” Jason said, picking up the photograph of the pearl necklace and putting it in his pocket with the others. “After all, he doesn’t know you. He couldn’t be sure what you might be after.”

“But he wasn’t interested in anything I had to say until I mentioned the jewels,” I protested. “That’s when he said he’d talk with me after his meeting.”

Jason inclined his head. “Still, wealthy people like the Santiagos run into a lot of people who want various things from them. What did he tell you when you asked him about the jewels?”

“Not much. He said he suspected Francesca Ortega might have stolen them with the help of her son, Frederic,” I said.

“I need to speak with Frederic,” Jason said. “Do you have a number where I can reach him?”

“Wait.” I ran my free hand through my hair in exasperation. “I talked with Frederic earlier today. He was going to go through his mother′s apartment and see what he could find.”

“Then you believe Frederic is innocent,” Todd said.

“I think he’s innocent of his mother′s murder,” I said. “He obviously loved her very much. As for the jewelry, who knows? But I’m in a better position to find out than you are if you just start questioning him, Agent Daltrey. Besides, his mother′s funeral is in the morning.”

Jason sighed. “I know the timing is off. But with Frederic’s mother dead and her funeral dispensed with, he and his fiancée would have no reason to stay here and be convicted of jewel theft after tomorrow. I won’t let him get away.”

“Can’t you just follow him to make sure he sticks around after the funeral?” I asked. “Give me tomorrow to see what information I can find out, and then you can question him.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jason spread his hands. “I’m a federal agent. You have no control over what I do.”

“I realize that.” I dropped Todd’s hand and stood. I placed both hands on the desk and leaned toward Jason. “And I’m not trying to control what you do. I’m just asking you to be compassionate and to give me a chance to find out what I can from Frederic before you scare him off.”

“She is good at finding things out,” Todd told Jason. “This isn’t her first investigation.”

Jason blew out a breath. It was cinnamony, a fact for which I was grateful since his face was so close to mine. “One day. After that, I’m talking to Frederic myself.”

Chapter Fifteen

As soon as I got home, I went through the house to the back door to let Angus in. He was excited and playful. I hung up my coat and then threw his tennis ball down the hall for him time after time until he calmed down a little.

When he was relaxed enough to lie at my feet and chew on a rubber bone, I checked my phone messages. I’d heard back from Ted. He said he’d try to reach me again later but that if he didn’t, he’d see me tomorrow.

BOOK: Thread Reckoning
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