Page 34 of Devious Eyes
“Oh, right.” I stuff my hands into my pockets, all the while watching her like a hawk. I know what she’s looking for. It’s wrapped between a couple of items of clothing. My eyes scan the nearest exits and security guards and pick up the cameras operating in the area. It’s a small terminal. Nothing like those in Heathrow or LAX, but I wouldn’t like to take my chances.
“Would you mind opening this for us.” She’s all business as she places my jewellery case on the desk.
“Certainly.” I unfasten the popper on the front and unroll the case. I open the two zip sections visible to allow her to find the diamond necklace. She goes immediately for it and pulls the stones out. They sparkle in the artificial light, sending rainbows of colour dancing around.
“This is an impressive piece of jewellery. Do you have documents of ownership?”
“I do. I turn the case over and unzip the compartment at the back. My fingers dig the three folded certificates out, which account for each of the items I’m carrying.
She places the diamonds down, but she can barely take her eyes from the necklace. The paper crinkles as she opens it to scan over and sees the Gemological Institute of America stamp in the corner.
“Are you carrying anything else of value with you?”
“No. Just my jewellery. There’s some earrings as well.” I point them out.
The woman picks up the case and turns it over, running her fingers inside the two compartments. My pulse picks up as she scrutinises what’s in her hand. The hidden compartment is almost invisible, shielded between two pieces of leather that make up the case. The polymer lining protecting the contents from the scan.
She looks back over at a screen. Her eyes squint as she tries to get a clearer image. I know what she’s seen. A shadow, perhaps, of the stones hidden with the necklace over the top.
My hand clenches into a fist and releases as I wait for her to give me the all clear.
“You’ve been on holiday?” she asks, her eyes still focused on the screen.
“Yes. Bora Bora. You can check at the resort I stayed in.”
“Yet your clothes don’t include anything that would suggest a sun holiday.”
“I purchased a beach wardrobe while I was on the island. I’m travelling light and will have no use for them when I return home.”
“In San Francisco?”
“No. I’m heading back to my brother in Miami.”
“You seem to be going in the wrong direction then.”
“There isn’t a flight from Tahiti to Miami. I can change at San Francisco and be back before the next flight from here.”
“Not concerned with the cost?”
“Ma’am, those diamonds are worth over three million. I’ve just spent tens of thousands on a two-week holiday. I’m not going to worry over an extra few hundred for a flight.” My eyes pierce hers with my little speech. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to secure my bag and be on my way.” I cross my arms over my chest and wait for her to back down.
“Thank you for your time.” She drops all my belongings on the desk and leaves.
My eyes close for a moment, offering up a small prayer of thanks before I meticulously repack the bag. As my hands work in front of me, I check both my exit points and ensure I’ve not drawn any interest. I make a show of checking my ticket and look around as if I am searching for the gate number or departure information. It’s not necessary as it’s committed to memory, but I do need to get a better look around me. A trickle of tourists, mostly couples filter past me and on towards the duty-free area. Thirty more seconds.
A gentleman of Japanese heritage, wearing a leather jacket, is sitting on the first bank of seats past security. He has his phone out with headphones plugged in. His backpack, almost identical to mine, is at his feet.
It’s probably nothing, but after the delay with security, my nerves have picked up. Slipping back to my old self—my real self—is necessary. I can’t let my feelings cloud my actions or compromise the checks I make for my own safety or leaving Nate will be in vain.
A group of couples all pile through the security check at the same time, and I slip amongst them as we all travel into the duty-free shop. The man on his phone checks to see if I am still packing my bag but stands up to scan the area as soon as he realises I’ve moved.
Seems like I’ve picked up a tail. But how, and what does he want?
