“Hadn’t been fired.” She closed her eyes, grasped desperately at relief. “I might not have used it at all.”
“I’d say it’s unlikely you did. Using current observations, I can’t picture you owning an unregistered handgun, but if we get lucky and track it down, we may have a clearer picture.”
“You’ve learned so much already.”
He would have liked to bask in that warm admiration, but he shrugged and took a hefty bite of his sandwich. “Most of it’s negative information. There’s been no report of a robbery that involves a gem like the one you’ve been carrying, or that amount of cash. No kidnapping or hostage situations that the local police are involved in, and no open homicides involving the type of weapon we’re dealing with in the last week.”
He took another swallow of beer. “No one has reported a woman meeting your description missing in the last week, either.”
“But how can that be?” She shoved her sandwich aside. “I have the gem, I have the cash. I am missing.”
“There are possibilities.” He kept his eyes on hers. “Maybe someone doesn’t want that information out. Bailey, you said you thought the diamond was only part of a whole. And when you were coming out of the nightmare you talked about three stars. Stars. Diamonds. Could be the same thing. Do you think there are three of those rocks?”
“Stars?” She pressed her fingers to her temple as it started to ache. “Did I talk about stars? I don’t remember anything about stars.”
Because it hurt to think about it, she tried to concentrate on the reasonable. “Three gems of that size and quality would be unbelievably rare. As a set, even if the others were inferior in clarity to the one I have, they’d be beyond price. You couldn’t begin to assess—” Her breath began to hitch, to come in gasps as she fought for air. “I can’t breathe.”
“Okay.” He was up, shifting her so that he could lower her head between her knees, rub her back. “That’s enough for now. Just relax, don’t force it.”
He wondered, as he stroked her back, just what she’d seen that put that kind of blind terror in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she managed. “I want to help.”
“You are. You will.” He eased her up again, waiting as she pushed her hair back away from her pale cheeks. “Hey, it’s only day one, remember?”
“Okay.” Because he didn’t make her feel ashamed of the weakness, she took a deep, cleansing breath. “When I tried to think, really think about what you were asking, it was like a panic attack, with all this guilt and horror and fear mixed together. My head started to throb, and my heart beat too fast. I couldn’t get air.”
“Then we’ll take it slow. You don’t get that panicky when we talk about the stone you have?”
She closed her eyes a moment, cautiously brought its image into her mind. It was so beautiful, so extraordinary. There was concern, and worry, yes. A layer of fear, as well, but it was more focused and somehow less debilitating. “No, it’s not the same kind of reaction.” She shook her head, opened her eyes. “I don’t know why.”
“We’ll work on that.” He scooted her plate back in front of her. “Eat. I’m planning a long evening, and you’re going to need fuel.”
“What sort of plans?”
“I went by the library on my travels. I’ve got a stack of books on gems—technical stuff, pictures, books on rare stones, rare jewels, the history of diamonds, you name it.”
“We might find it.” The possibility cheered her enough to have her nibbling on her sandwich again. “If we could identify the stone, we could trace the owner, and then… Oh, but you can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Work tonight. You have to go somewhere with Pamela.”
“I do? Hell—” He pressed his fingers to his eyes as he remembered.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to mention it. Your mother called. I was in here, so I heard the message. She’s upset that you haven’t returned her calls, or contacted Pamela about the arrangements for tonight. She’s going to be at Dodie’s until four. You can call her there. Also, Muffy’s very annoyed with you. She called shortly after your mother and she’s very unhappy that you missed Camilla’s piano recital. She isn’t speaking to you until you apologize.”
“I should be so lucky,” he muttered, and dropped his hands. “That’s a pretty good rundown. Want a job?” When she only smiled, he shook his head and rode on inspiration. “No, I’m serious. You’re a hell of a lot more organized than my late, unlamented secretary. I could use some help around the office, and you could use the busywork.”
“I don’t even know if I can type.”
“I know I can’t, so you’re already a step ahead. You can answer a phone, can’t you?”
“Of course, but—”
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