Thieves Like Us (31 page)

The kindness left her eyes. “Not a cent,” she said, her voice tempered steel.

Janet nodded. “I didn’t think so. So how
is
he paying for it?”

“I have no idea. Nor do I care.”

Rising excitement kept her heartbeat from slowing its mad gallop. “You had to deliver some papers to his attorney’s office soon after his arrest, though, right? Did that include a key to a safe deposit box by any chance?”

Elizabeth’s brow quirked the tiniest bit with curiosity. “No. Just papers and a couple personal items.” Seeing Janet’s disappointment, she added helpfully, “He asked for some financial papers, the cash he had in his bedroom, and a list of phone numbers.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “That’s all?”

“I’m afraid so. Oh, and some stupid commemorative golf ball. He said he forgot to give it to . . .” Her vice trailed off as she noticed Janet’s excitement. “What?”

“A gold-plated ball from the Wesfield-Benton Classic?”

“Yes. Why?”

“That’s it!” She laughed. “That’s where the diamonds went!”

Elizabeth looked stunned. “The diamonds those Colombian thugs are looking for? They were in the golf ball?”

“Yes! We have to call Ben.”

A faint smile pulled at the corners of Elizabeth’s mouth. Laying a hand on Janet’s arm, she steered her toward the doorway. “As it happens, I already did. He said he’ll be here in about an hour. I think this will be quite an eventful visit for him.”

^“
C
an’t talk now, I’m driving,” Ben said. In the background Rocky heard the Tigers’ baseball game on the car radio, the same one he’d been listening to. He figured
can’t talk
meant
I don’t want to talk while the game is in extra innings.

“Okay, I’ll call you back later.”

“No, I’m on my way to Liz’s house. Why don’t you meet me there? We can talk before dinner.”

He must have assumed Rocky would be showing up there anyway, or at least be welcome. Neither was true. He didn’t want to say it, then have to explain to Ben why the woman who was practically like a daughter to him wouldn’t want to see Rocky’s sorry ass anymore. At least, not without kicking it.

He hesitated, trying to come up with an excuse not to meet him at the Westfield mansion, but Ben’s impatient voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just—damn it! Fuckin’ bullpen’s gonna give away this game. Talk to you later.” The line went dead.

He had no choice but to drive to Elizabeth’s place if he wanted to talk to Ben. But he was probably closer than Ben was. Maybe he could intercept him in the driveway.

Naturally, traffic on Woodward was a nightmare. He turned onto Elizabeth’s street fifteen minutes later, certain he’d have to ring the doorbell and suffer poisonous looks from all three females, who undoubtedly would stand together in their resentment. But Ben’s car was right in front of him, pulled onto the grassy verge at the side of the street just before the driveway. Ben sat stiffly behind the wheel.

Rocky’s first thought was that he’d pulled over to hear the end of the ballgame before driving up to the house. But Baltimore had scored the winning run just as Rocky turned onto the shady side street, and instead of smashing a fist into the dash and switching off the radio, Ben didn’t move. Not so much as a twitch.

Something was wrong. Rocky threw the car into park and jumped out. He ran toward Ben, his mind racing ahead of him, envisioning the gray face and clutching hands of a heart attack victim. Or even more frightening, the round, bloody hole of a bullet neatly centered on Ben’s chest. It was a crazy thought, yet he couldn’t help scanning the street for any sign of the Colombians.
As if they’d shoot someone and stick around.

Every sense went on full alert, heightened by the fear of what he might find. They hit him in a confusing collage, the scent of fresh-cut grass, the sound of a basketball bouncing on a driveway behind him, the hot feel of metal as he smacked his hand onto the sun-warmed roof of the car. He braced to jerk open the driver’s door when the hum of the window lowering stopped him. Rocky straightened, puzzled, as Ben turned toward him, face flushed with health and chest devoid of bullet holes.

Ben’s blank gaze gave nothing away. “Did you know about this?” he asked.

He followed Ben’s pointed finger, turning his gaze toward Elizabeth’s front yard beyond the open gates. Less than a hundred square feet of grass lay between the gates and the dense screen of lilac bushes, rhododendron, and pine trees that shielded the property. Yesterday it had been bare, an open piece of green offering a glimpse of the mansion beyond. Now a large black sign was standing in the clearing, carrying the logo of a local real estate company. Big gold letters at the top proclaimed, “For Sale.”

Rocky’s jaw dropped for several seconds before he found the words. “She’s selling the house?”

“Apparently. So I take it you didn’t know?”

“No. Didn’t you?”

“No.”

They both turned to stare at the sign. “What made her decide to move out?” Rocky hoped it wasn’t something to do with all the animals he’d dumped on her lately.

Ben rubbed his chin. “Don’t know.”

He glanced at the other luxury homes nearby. “I don’t think the neighbors will appreciate the sign. Not very classy.”

“I think it’s for my benefit.”

“Oh. Where’s she moving to?”

A small smirk touched Ben’s mouth. “That part I might know.” Suddenly animated, Ben put the car in gear.

“Hey, wait!” Rocky put both hands on the open window frame, as if he could stop the car from moving. “I need to talk with you about an idea I had to catch whoever is after the Pellinni Jewels. It’s important.”

“Not as important as this.” Ben must have given his rash statement a second thought because he paused and said, “Call Detective Furley. I’ll catch up with you later.” He hit the gas, spraying grass and bits of gravel.

Rocky stepped back and watched him speed up the winding driveway. He preferred talking to Ben, but there was no way he wanted to go in the house, especially while Ben was asking Elizabeth to marry him or move in with him or whatever happy ending he’d seen on the man’s face. Rocky was pretty sure his presence would kill the mood.

Turning, he walked back toward his car, head down, eyes watching the ground.

“Hey!”

He jerked around, recognizing the voice even when it barked at drill sergeant volume. “Hi, Libby.”

She stood at the edge of the driveway, beside one of the tall black gates, Freddie at her side. The dog leapt forward to greet him, then fell back at Libby’s sharp tug on his leash. Rocky felt the correction as much as if the leash had been attached to his neck. This was not going to be a friendly encounter.

Freddie settled for wagging his tail and whining as Libby folded her arms and thrust out her jaw. Her fiery glare was as intimidating as her grandmother’s. “You promised.”

She didn’t have to say anymore. He’d promised not to hurt Janet, and as far as Libby was concerned, he’d broken that promise.

It also seemed to have hurt Libby, shutting down the open, loving part of her and teaching her at the tender age of thirteen that men couldn’t be trusted.
Nice going,
Hernandez.

He stepped toward her, then stopped, deciding it was safer to heed her rigid body language and keep his distance. Holding his palms up to ward off a lecture, he said, “I know what you think, but I didn’t dump her.”

“I know, you just don’t want to see her anymore.”

He scowled. “Who said anymore? It’s just until I finish this business dealing with some people who aren’t nice enough to meet Janet. I’m trying to keep her safe.”

“That’s a new one.”

With anyone else he might have told them to mind their own business, but Libby’s feelings were important to him. “I’m not making it up, and it’s not like I don’t want to see her.”

“Then see her.”

It sounded so logical. But he shouldn’t spend time sitting around with Janet when he could be doing something about getting rid of at least one of her problems. He stuck his hands in his pockets, more than a little uncomfortable with trying to explain himself to a thirteen-year-old. “It’s not that easy, Libby.”

She kicked at the ground and muttered, “Seems easy enough to me.”

He squinted cautiously. “What did Janet tell you?”

“Nothing, just that you won’t see her. But I like Janet—a lot. Ellie and I have been hoping she’d find a boyfriend, and it seemed like she did, except now you went and made her unhappy. And that makes me mad.” In case he didn’t find that part significant, she added an icy glare. “You have to fix it.”

“I will.”

“You better.”

He couldn’t agree more, not only for the sake of his precarious future with Janet, but to erase that heart-wrenching look of betrayal from Libby’s face.

God, when he screwed up, he went all out, pissing off two women at once. He didn’t even want to imagine what Elizabeth thought of him, because he had a bad feeling she would be angry female number three.

“Janet, sit down and relax.” Ben indicated the patio chair across from the glider where he sat with Elizabeth. “They’ll call me as soon as they know anything.”

“I can’t. I’m too nervous.” She stopped pacing the flagstones long enough to ask, “How can you just sit there while your officers might be recovering a fortune in hot diamonds at this very moment?”

“They know how to do their jobs without me looking over their shoulders.” Turning a page in the real estate booklet, he showed it to Elizabeth who sat next to him on the glider. “What do you think of this one, Liz?”

She looked at the listing. “It has a tennis court. If I keep my club membership, we don’t need that.”

He looked concerned. “You don’t have to give up everything.”

“It’s my choice, Ben.” She laid a hand over his. “And you know it makes sense. Libby’s the one who takes lessons, and she doesn’t even live with us. We don’t need a tennis court.”

He nodded, but worry lines still etched his face. “I just don’t want you to feel like I’m making you change your lifestyle when you change houses.”

“You’re not,” she assured him quickly. “I’ll still have my clubs and charitable organizations. I just won’t have this enormous house. People will have to accept me for who I am and what I do, not for what I have.” She allowed a sly smile. “It should be quite interesting to see if anyone disappears from my circle of friends.”

“Good riddance if they do,” Ben snorted.

Janet agreed, but didn’t think it would happen; Elizabeth’s friends weren’t that superficial.

Her gaze wandered over the property, a bit amazed that the magnificent estate might soon belong to someone else. The imposing mansion had seemed synonymous with the Elizabeth Payton Westfield she’d first met when she married Banner. Of course, that hadn’t been the real Elizabeth. She had still been secretive about her renewed love affair with Ben Thatcher, and had not yet known that her older son’s jail sentence was unjust—and arranged by her youngest son. The changes in the family over the past two years were mirrored in Elizabeth’s relaxed demeanor and easy smile. Janet supposed the grand estate didn’t suit the new Elizabeth Payton Westfield. Or—she smiled at the news Elizabeth had shared at dinner—the future Elizabeth Payton Thatcher.

Elizabeth seemed to be pondering other changes as she watched her granddaughter across the lawn, trying to convince Freddie to give up a ball.

“Libby will be losing something, too, in a way. After all, she used my pool and tennis courts more than anyone else. She should have something to make up for it.”

Ben’s hand stilled where it had been kneading her shoulder. “Liz, I can’t afford the kind of luxuries you’ve had here, and you know Jack and Ellie don’t want to spoil her.”

“I was thinking of a dog,” Elizabeth said, unruffled.

“A dog.” Ben’s frown turned into a slow smile.

“You know, it’s amazing that Jack and Ellie haven’t noticed the gaping hole in their daughter’s life. I think Freddie would fill it wonderfully.”

Ben chuckled. “I can’t wait to tell them when they get home. What would they do without grandparents to figure these things out?”

Elizabeth leaned contentedly into the curve of his arm, both of them looking so satisfied Janet felt like she should tiptoe away and give them some privacy. She was about to excuse herself when Ben’s cell phone rang. She froze as he dug it out of his pocket.

“Yeah,” Ben said. Then nothing else while Janet fidgeted. She tried to catch his eye as he repeated, “Uhhuh, uh-huh,” but he studiously avoided her. Finally, he chuckled and said, “Fantastic!”

“What?” she demanded.

He hung up and grinned at her. “You were right. As soon as they told Seabrook the search warrant specifically named a commemorative gold-plated golf ball, he handed it over.”

“Yes!” she said, pumping her fist.

“They still had the diamonds in a safe, and couldn’t wait to get rid of them once we said Jarod Davis— that’s the guy you called Sleazy—had receipts for their sale to Banner. It probably didn’t hurt that we implied a couple guys from Colombia were very interested in learning their whereabouts.” Tucking the phone in his pocket, he said, “We owe you a big thanks for this one, Janet.”