Page 95 of A Real Good Bad Thing

Yeah, I was waiting too. For answers.

“What about International Diamonds?” I asked Kate. “Were you able to find an employee named Monica?”

While there was nothing wrong with a side hustle, nothing at all, running into Monica no longer seemed like a small island coincidence. Something was up with her.

“I called International Diamonds and asked for Monica, and they said she wasn’t in. Then I used my wits and wiles to get a last name to go with the first. Smith. Which doesn’t sound fake at all.”

I straightened up on alert. “The guy who broke into Ruby’s room gave the name Smith at the front desk.”

“Um…Jake, those don’t even need to be aliases to be within the realm of coincidence.” Kate sounded like she was trying to break bad news to me. “Especially since I could find zero info about a Monica Smith in Flamingo Key.”

But leaving the last name aside, Monica was one of the few people I could think of who knew I had a blue-tinted diamond worth ten grand, and she’d likely seen me with Ruby while she was skulking around the bar, no matter how real Monica’s laughter with her friend had seemed last night.

Just like I sensed danger, just like I knew how to find the stolen Strad, I was sure that Monica was onto us. Mr. Smith had to be her partner.

Monica and Nigel?

Monica and Tristan?

I wasn’t sure, but I did know there was another pair in this doubles match of stolen diamonds.

47

SAFE COMBOS

Ruby

“I’ll have the lobster bisque with a Tiki salad. Hold the nuts.” I handed my menu to the waiter and faced my stepfather with a fixed and phony smile.

“And the niçoise salad for me,” Eli said, clueless to my needling dig.

I’d replaced the nuts in the tube and the tube in the frame, returning everything to its place. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Eli was so wily. I’d grown up with his big-hearted softy routine while he’d sneakily had everything ready to yank the rug out from under Mom.

He was always one step ahead. It wasn’t enough to hide his diamonds. He had to turn it into a gag.

Planting false clues to keep his enemies running after his nuts?

Yeah. Just his style.

Now I had to sit across from him, eat lunch, and listen to how business was great, the shop was expanding, and the sky rained gold coins and rainbows in the wonderful old land of Eli.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t getting anywhere as a sleuth and I was frustrated and disheartened at the thought that I’d have nothing for Mom at the end of this.

Time for a direct approach.

“So, Eli,” I said, snapping open my napkin and spreading it over my lap. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Was I really going to dive straight in with questions about his hedge fund? Ask point-blank if he’d skimmed money off the top?

Yes, I was. I was so done dancing around the topic.

But before I could say anything, Eli held up a hand to stop me. “No, my dear. I need to talk to you. I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day at brunch.”

“You have?” I asked, taken aback.

“Indeed. I’ve done some soul searching and you’re right. I wasn’t fair to Shelly.”

I was so shocked that I sat back in my chair and just stared at him, my jaw hanging open. This was front-page news. Eli didn’t apologize foranything. “You weren’t fair in the divorce you mean?” I asked, needing to be specific.

He shrugged an admission. “That, and when we were married. I could have done a few things differently.”

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