God, she was such a loser. A ten-million-dollar loser.
A brisk knock at her front door drove her to her feet. The clock said just after eight, so that must be Hunter. Good. She strode to the door thinking she could use him and the whole LVMPD about now.
“I want you to hunt him down and arrest his ass,” she said as soon as she opened the door. The words came out louder than she intended, reverberating down the empty hallway.
Hunter froze, his cup of tea steaming just below his lip. “Would you care to clarify whose ass you mean?”
She swallowed her frustration-barely. “Get in here. It’s bad enough you’ve had me under surveillance. I don’t need all my neighbors learning about my life.”
He scanned her living room. “Pretty busy here this morning?”
Damn him.
“For the record, you weren’t under surveillance. I thought you might need protection.”
“How ironic. Apparently, I did.”
Hunter was immediately alert. “From whom? Grantham?”
“No. Michael Kincaid. Ever heard of him?”
He scratched the back of his head while he thought about it. “I think Allie mentioned he was your cousin.” For a cop, he sure sounded evasive, but then he probably didn’t want her prying into how much time he was spending with her sister.
“He says he’s my cousin, but he’s not.” She expelled a bitter laugh.
“What is he?” Hunter asked.
Iris tossed up her arms and took a turn around the living room. “He’s working with these people who’ve been looking for Cosmo. He’s a lying thief and con man and possibly a killer.”
“Friendly little guy, isn’t he?”
She spun around at Hunter’s glibness to find him hunkered down, letting Edgar sniff his tea. The rabbit reared up on his hind legs, his nose twitching like-
– like her body had under Mickey’s fingers last night. Iris buried her face in her hands.
“You were saying about Michael Kincaid?”
She started, afraid he’d somehow read her mind. When she looked over, Hunter had risen and was watching her.
He laid his tea on a side table and pulled a notepad from his jacket. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Iris sighed. “Let me get some coffee.” Her pants swished around her ankles as she led him into the kitchen.
As succinctly as she could, she recapped her experiences with Mickey over the past few days. This included how he’d broken into her home, her store, how she’d been abducted by men claiming to be his friends, and how he’d rescued her-though she now suspected that might have been set up to earn her trust. She sidestepped mentioning any overt body contact between them.
“Did you sleep with him?” Hunter asked. She bet he’d use the same tone if he were asking whether she’d lost her wallet.
Iris unclenched her jaw. “Yes.” How much had Officer Foote heard from the hallway last night? If she’d known he was still there, she would have been quieter. Well, she would have tried anyway.
“And the other man who came here this morning?”
“David Grantham. He stopped by on his way to work this morning.”
“Your fiancé, right?”
She licked her lips. “Ah, no. Not anymore. My former fiancé.”
His eyes narrowed to scrutinize her. “He broke it off with you?”
“No, thank you very much, I broke it off with him.” She set her cup down with a clatter. “Not that I think it falls into your professional jurisdiction to ask.”
“Sorry, you’re right. It’s just that I know you’ve had an emotional weekend.”
“Hey, I’m down one crackpot father and up two pretty younger sisters. Most people would say I’ve been dealt a better hand.”
He adjusted his tie. “I’m sorry.”
She hated that she could see he was. Tears stung her eyes again. “Forget it. What else do you need to know?”
“I think that will do it.” Hunter scooted his chair back and rose. “You realize now you should have turned those gems in to the police as soon as you discovered them, right?”
“Thanks. Next time, you give me my father, and I’ll give you the gems.”
“I thought you didn’t refer to him as your father?”
Iris eyed Hunter, wondering if she could be arrested for telling a cop to go to hell. “Go to hell.” Testing the theory made her feel better.
Hunter cracked a smile. Oddly enough, it looked genuine and…nice. “We’ll do what we can to pick up this Jock and Pebbles and, er, Mickey Kincaid, of course. Meanwhile, I want you to be very aware of your surroundings. I’ve asked Officer Foote to be at your store by noon. I assume you’ll want to go there today.”
She hoped he had no knowledge of Cosmo’s visits to her store, but she had to admit Foote’s presence would be welcome. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll wait downstairs until you’re ready to go over.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.”
“You don’t have a car here, do you?” He raised a knowing brow at her, and all her good feeling toward him evaporated. “No rush. Take your time.”
After Hunter left, Iris leaned against the door, drained. At least she didn’t feel like crying anymore. That took too much energy.
Edgar hobbled over to sniff at her bare toes.
“You are a sweetie, aren’t you?” She kneeled down and gathered the monster rabbit into her arms. “What do you say, Edgar? How did we get into this big a mess?” His whiskers tickled as he nuzzled a tear from her cheek.
Iris wished Allie were here to interpret. That alone probably meant she was losing it.
An hour later she arrived at the store with Edgar loaded into a duffel bag. Ginny grinned and babbled about how scary it had been when Iris’s sister kept calling and then came to search for her. When Iris unveiled Edgar and set him loose in the back room, Ginny forgot all about yesterday in lieu of her delight over the furry bunny.
Iris left the two of them playing while she looked around her workbench, eager to search before Foote arrived. Nothing was out of place. Still, Cosmo had been here last night. Why? The stones.
Unerringly, she went to drawer thirty-three and unlocked it. Pulling out the tray of fake alexandrite, she rifled through the stones, but they all looked the same. The small box was still there, and she opened it to check inside.
A folded paper lay on the white foam. Perplexed, Iris unfolded the paper. It was blank but for a single oversized question mark.
Iris stared at it, her own question just as big. “Cosmo, where are you?”
Chapter Twelve
“Corazon.” The name left her mother’s lips in a reverent whisper. In the dim light of the casino bar, tears dotted the cocoa eyes, but Cory couldn’t respond to the heartfelt emotion.
Her own heart was still encased in bitterness, too raw to ignore. This woman had betrayed her, abandoned her.
Cory had never understood why. What had she done that was awful enough to drive her own mother away? At least she knew part of why Mama had never come back-she’d found a better daughter in Allie. Golden, blonde, sweet, loving. Not temperamental and demanding like Cory. Allie was the model daughter.
She turned, bracing herself for Allie to say something happy. But Allie sat watching her, her brow knit with empathy. “Do you want me to leave so you can talk to your mom?”
“No, stay. I don’t think we have anything to say to each other.”
Allie reached a tentative hand across the bar’s surface and patted her fingers. “Sure you do. You just need to find the words.”
Cory closed her eyes. She’d never been that great with words.
“Talk to me, Cory,” her mother said.
“No.” Cory pushed back her drink. “I don’t think I will. I got what I came for. If you don’t know where Papa is, then we have nothing further to discuss.” She rose, pulled a wallet from her purse and dug for a bill to settle her tab.