The Diamond Affair (10 page)

Frankie chuckled
like a goon behind her. "She's got a nice shape," he said. "Tits
a bit small but you can't have everything."

"No," Beauvoir
said on a sigh. "You can't. Or in this case, I can't." He checked his
watch. "Frankie, you'll have to do the honors. I've got some personal
business to take care of."

Frankie's sneer
was pure enjoyment. "My pleasure, Boss."

"Call me as
soon as she talks." He took one last, lingering look at Ruby's legs then left.
The scrunch of tires on gravel faded as he drove off.

Ruby was alone
with Frankie in the middle of God knows where, her wrists still tied in front
of her and dressed only in a T-shirt. So far, the night sucked.

But she had the
sickening feeling it was about to get a whole lot worse.

***

Jake's chest hurt,
but it had nothing to do with the bruised ribs and everything to do with Ruby.

Frankie had taken
her.

As soon as Jake
woke up in the Alfred Hospital, he'd made a call to his apartment. No answer. He'd
made a second call to Damien who lived nearby and asked him to check on Ruby. He'd
reported back that she was gone. By then, Jake had already discharged himself
and called a cab. He met Damien outside his apartment and asked him for the
loan of his car. Damien obliged, but only after asking a million questions of
his own, none of which Jake answered.

He drove to Beauvoir's
house as fast as the sedan could take him. The sooner he got there, the sooner
he could beat some answers out of the bastard and find out what they'd done
with Ruby. Or what they'd done
to
her.

The only comfort
came from knowing they wouldn't kill her. They needed her to find the
Florentine, the diamond she'd didn't have.

Christ. They may
not kill her, but there were a hell of a lot of other things they could do.

An icy mist
coiled around his insides, shrouding the tiny light that had been glowing there
in darkness.

Ruby.

She had to be all
right. Had to be.

He parked down
the street from the Beauvoir residence and popped some of the painkillers the
nurse had given him for his headache. He pulled out the gun and bullets he'd
packed into a backpack at his apartment and moments later he was around the
back of the Beauvoir mansion.

The house was
quiet. The only light came from an upstairs window. Penny's window by his
reckoning. Four in the morning was a strange hour for the seventeen year-old to
be up considering she'd have school in a few hours. Then again, what did he
know about teenage girls? It could be perfectly normal behavior.

Jake unlocked the
back door with his lock picks and went inside. It took a few moments for his
eyes to adjust to the darkness then he set off upstairs. Avoiding the end of
the house where Penny's bedroom was located, he worked his way down to the
other end where loud snoring came from the master bedroom.

Gun at the ready,
he peered round. A sleeping body lay in the middle of the big bed, one leg on
top of the covers, blonde hair splayed out across the pillow. Sonya. She slept
alone.

Where the hell
was Beauvoir?

Jake crept back
down the hall and checked all the rooms in case the unhappily married couple
didn't sleep together. But they were all empty. He even checked Penny's in case
he'd been mistaken, but she sat at her computer, back to the door, the monitor
providing the only light in the room. She held a phone in one hand and dialed. After
only a couple of seconds, she hung up, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

He left her to
her gadgets and headed back down the stairs. The housekeeper mustn't be a
live-in because he found no evidence of her private space, nor did he find Beauvoir.
The bastard wasn't home.

Jake returned to
Damien's car and drove to Beauvoir's office in the city. The building was
shrouded in darkness. There was no one there.

He thumped the
steering wheel then cursed as pain tore up his hand and into his arm. It was a
grim reminder of his injuries and the accident. The accident that had stopped
him getting to Ruby before Frankie.

***

Ruby swallowed
past the lump of fear in her throat and frantically looked around the cabin. The
room they were in contained a rusty oven and stove beside a free-standing
cupboard. In the middle of the room stood a small table with two wooden chairs,
their white paint peeling off like a layer of skin. On the opposite wall to the
front door was another door, presumably leading to a bedroom and bathroom but
it was closed. She could see only one door leading outside and Frankie stood
between it and Ruby.

His sneering grin
widened. "Had a good look around, Mizz Jones?"

She turned her
gaze on him. He was six and a half feet of solid blubber. If he wanted to
torture her, as his boss suggested, he could do any number of things from
sitting on her to beating her to a pulp and there'd be nothing she could do
about it. On the up side, he didn't seem particularly bright.

"I'm
starving," she said, glancing at the kitchen. Any kitchen, even one in a
dump like this, would have a knife or two lying around. "I don't suppose
there's any food in that cupboard."

He shrugged. "Don't
think so. The boss doesn't come up too often and my visits only last as long as
necessary. Usually my
guests
give in well before I get hungry."

The lump of fear
in her throat grew bigger.

Why oh why had
she ever answered that call by Beauvoir to go look at his new diamond? If only
she could go back in time...

But then she
wouldn't have met Jake. Even though she barely knew him, she couldn't wish him
gone from her life.

Please be all
right.

She had to get
away from Frankie. Had to find Jake. She'd do whatever it took.

Drawing courage
and air into her lungs, she said, "Let me see what's in the cupboard."
She moved but Fat Frankie grabbed her hair and jerked her back.

"Stay here,"
he snarled into her ear. He let go but kept the gun trained on her head.

She rubbed her
scalp and stared him down. "Afraid I'll turn the tables on you? Think I
might be going to trick you so I can get that gun off you? I could you know. I'm
stronger than I look."

Frankie rocked
back on his heels and laughed so hard his belly shook and all three of his
chins wobbled. "A puny thing like you against a whale like me? You're a
funny girl, Mizz Jones." He sobered again in a heartbeat and his gaze
turned narrow and nasty. "Now, I've got plans for you."

"Don't you
come anywhere near me."

"Or what?"
He took a step closer. "You'll scream?" Another step. "There's
no one around for miles." And another.

"You'll have
to kill me before I let you touch me," she warned him.

His smile
revealed yellowing teeth. "Think I won't kill you? Think again, Mizz
Jones." His black eyes dilated as he raised his gun to her temple

He
would
kill her. She could see it in his eyes, knew it in her bones. Despite what Beauvoir
said about keeping her alive, Frankie would shoot her dead in that cabin and no
one would ever know.

She blinked
rapidly to fight back the tears. This man was insane to go against his boss's
orders. But that could work in her favor.

She glanced over
his shoulder. "Did you hear all that, Guy?"

Her ruse worked. Frankie
whirled to look at the front door. Ruby leapt onto his back and swung her arms over
his head and around his throat. She pulled hard with her tied hands. His head
jerked back and she put as much pressure on his Adam's apple as she could.

A gurgle escaped
as he tried to shake her loose. She held on. With his spare hand, he clawed at
her arm, shredding her skin. Pain bloomed then she cast it off as if it were no
more annoying than a fly. There was no room in her for pain, everything she had
was going into squeezing the life out of Fat Frankie.

Another gurgle
came from his throat and his struggles seemed to lessen. A few more seconds...

But then the big
body suddenly caved. No, not caved, bent over at the waist and bucked, sending
her flying over his head. She landed on the floor nearby with a heavy thud. The
effort forced him down onto one knee.

"You little
bitch!" he rasped. He rubbed his throat as he raised the gun with the
other, bandaged, hand.

She kicked out
and connected with his injury. Frankie roared in pain and dropped the weapon. It
fell just out of her reach, and his.

In the instant
they both realized it, their gazes locked. He half stood to dive for the gun. The
movement exposed his—and every man's—weakest spot.

Ruby kicked
upward and her foot landed with satisfying accuracy on his groin. Fat Frankie
screamed so high he could have been mistaken for an opera soprano. He clutched
his groin and doubled over, his face twisted with agony and surprise.

Now
she dove for the gun. She grabbed with her tied hands and aimed it at
his head. Not that he noticed. He was too busy rolling around on the floor.

"Throw the
car keys over by the door," she said.

"Kiss my
ass," he squeaked. He got up on his knees but still held his groin,
whether for the pain or protection, she couldn't tell.

She sighed. "If
you had done your homework, you would know I have a brother in the SAS. That
same brother taught me the moves you just witnessed. I only wish I'd had the
chance to use them on you earlier." She shrugged and tried to keep her
voice level, her nerves steady. "Better late than never, I suppose. You
might also like to know that my brother taught me to shoot. Accurately." To
demonstrate, she shifted the gun a fraction down and to the left and fired. The
bullet pierced the floorboard only an inch away from Frankie's knee.

His mouth dropped
open. He sat back on his haunches. "You won't kill me," he said, but
he neither looked nor sounded convinced by his own words.

"I might
not. But I
will
shoot your balls off without hesitation."

His jaw bit down
and his thighs clamped together.

"The keys. Over
by the door. Slowly."

He dug into the
front pocket of his pants and pulled out the keys then threw them. She didn't
turn to see where they landed but backed up to the door. When her foot touched
the keys, she bent to pick them up, keeping her eyes on Frankie.

With her hands
tied, she had to put the keys in her mouth and turn side-on to open the door
while holding the gun. She managed it while still keeping Frankie in her
sights. He didn't move, despite the gun not being trained directly at him.

Cool air ruffled
her hair and caressed her bare legs. Until she felt it, she didn't realize how
hot it had been in the cabin.

With the gun once
again aimed at Frankie, she pressed the unlock button on the key. The sports
car bleeped. She backed out of the door then ran the last few feet to the car. Placing
the gun on her lap, she shoved the key into the ignition and turned the lights
on high beam. If Frankie came out, he would be blinded while she reached for
the gun again.

But he didn't
come out. Too afraid? More likely he was calling Beauvoir. By Ruby's
calculation, Guy would be at least ten minutes away. Even if he turned around
and came straight back, she should be long gone. But not if she took the same
route they'd arrived on, the most direct to Melbourne. She couldn't risk
meeting Beauvoir on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. So she took different
turns and just hoped they would lead her back to the Calder Highway.

The sports car
was easy to drive, and fast, even with her wrists tied together. Turning
corners was a challenge at first but she soon found a rhythm. It wasn't until
fifteen minutes had passed and she hadn't seen another car on the road that she
exhaled deeply and began to relax.

Thank you, Matt.
Her brother would be glad to know his lessons in self-defense had
been useful. Then again, maybe not. She'd probably never tell him the details
of what had happened in that cabin. He'd go all protective and big brotherly on
her. It was never pretty.

Jake, on the
other hand, would probably demand to know what had happened. She couldn't begin
to imagine what would have gone through his head when he'd found her gone from
his apartment.

That's if he was even
aware of her absence.

Please be safe
and in one piece.

She fought back
tears but it was a wasted effort. All the pent up fear, relief, and sheer
frustration came tumbling out in those tears. She swiped at them with her
shoulder because she couldn't move her damn hands off the steering wheel.

It was useless.
The tears kept coming. What should she do now? Where should she go? She couldn't
go back to Jake's place, couldn't go to her own apartment. She had no clothes
and no money, not even enough to make a phone call.