one of the straps of her gown was broken. And sure enough, just as he’d predicted, without the strap, the entire left side of the dress was quickly headed south, toward a serious wardrobe malfunction. Jack shrugged out of his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. She looked up at him gratefully and pulled the lapels of the coat closed and stuck her arms into the sleeves.
Her brothers glared at him but didn’t say anything, so Jack stayed there with his arm around her.
By the time everybody was convinced that Cara Lynn was fine mentally, emotionally and physically, and no ambulance needed to be called, Lucas was back.
Everybody turned to look at him. Even Jack could read his expression like a children’s book. No luck.
“He disappeared,” Lucas said, a disgusted frown on his face.
“Oh, my God,” Paul said from behind Jack. “Did he really drop the tiara?”
Lucas leveled a grim glare at Paul. “We recovered the tiara, but he got the journal. Did any of you get a look at his face? Cara Lynn?”
Beside Jack, Cara Lynn shook her head.
Lucas pushed the fingers of one hand through his hair, then shouted at no one in particular. “How in hell did he get in and grab that stuff in the middle of a room full of cops?”
It was after midnight by the time Jack and Cara Lynn got home.
“You’d think with so many Delancey cops there as witnesses, it shouldn’t have taken so long,” Cara Lynn said, looking in her compact mirror at the cut on her forehead.
“Really?” Jack said. “It’s only been three hours. My guess is if a thief had broken in and tried to steal a six or seven-figure piece of jewelry from any other house in this entire town, every single person there would have been hauled down to the police station, and many of them would still be there twenty-four hours later.”
“Well, that’s what they ought to do. It’s stupid that nobody caught that thief.” She gingerly touched the cut with her fingertip.
“I need to get you some antibiotic ointment and a strip bandage,” Jack said.
“I’ll do it. Damn, it still hurts.”
“Why don’t you get in bed and I’ll get you some water or something?”
“I won’t be able to sleep,” she said.
Jack got a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, opened it and handed it to her. “Were you able to see anything? Could you tell anything about the thief?”
“See anything? I don’t know what room you were in,” she retorted, “but where I was it was black as pitch. Like I told the detective, I felt a hand on me, then I was pushed down and I hit my shoulder and head on the marble table. The next thing I knew everybody was hovering over me.” She shivered.
“I think you need to go to bed,” he said. “Don’t you have to finish getting ready for your new show down in New Orleans in the morning?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve still got one piece to finish. I should get up at five.”
Jack grabbed a bottle of water for himself. He twisted the top off and took a long swallow, then gazed at her as if he was thinking about what he was going to say. “What do you think that tiara is worth?”
Cara Lynn shrugged and winced. “Damn it, my shoulder is sore, too. The tiara? I don’t know. My grandmother said it was priceless, but she let me play Princess with it.”
Jack paused with the bottle halfway to his lips. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I played dress-up with some of her old clothes and the tiara. I remember it was heavy. She got mad if I dropped it.”
“I’ll bet she did.”
“I heard my parents and Uncle Michael talking about it once. They were saying half a million.”
Jack’s jaw tightened and the expression on his face was unreadable, but it bothered her. “That guy was small-time. I don’t get why he chanced stealing the tiara.”
“What do you mean? If he’d gotten out of there, he’d be rich for the rest of his life.”
He gave a half shrug. “How can anyone possibly sell something that famous?”
“He could remove the stones and sell them, right?”
“Those gigantic rubies and emeralds and diamonds have been photographed, measured, weighed. I’ll guarantee you, the insurance company has an exact description of each stone. Whoever steals that baby better enjoy playing dress-up, because they’re not going to get any money for it.”
Cara Lynn stared at him. “You know an awful lot about famous jewels,” she said. “Please tell me you’re not an international jewel thief.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’m not an international jewel thief. Every bit of that information can be found on the internet or in movies. The Thomas Crown Affair, for instance.”
She nodded, but a trace of unease began to stir under her breastbone. It was the same feeling that had been a part of her ever since she and Jack had gotten married. She loved him and she was sure he loved her, but occasionally, he’d send her a look or make a comment that worried her.
There was something wrong between them and she couldn’t figure out what it was. And every time she tried to talk to Jack about it, she ended up in his arms, making love.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go to bed. You need to get as much sleep as possible. I’ll guarantee you’re going to be sore tomorrow, and you’ll probably have at least one bruise.” He headed toward the bedroom.
“Okay. I’m just going to get the coffee ready to turn on in the morning.”
Alone for the first time since the party had started, Cara Lynn stood in the middle of the kitchen floor while tears slid down her cheeks. She’d done her best not to cry in front of her brothers or Jack, but everything that had happened had built up in her until she could no longer hold back.
From the instant she’d managed to clear her head after hitting it against the marble table, she’d called for Jack. When the lights came back on, she’d spotted him standing on a chair, looking over the crowd toward the French doors, in the direction the thief had run.
As soon as he’d heard her call, he’d turned around. He’d looked horrified at the blood on her face, but before he’d rushed to her side, he’d glanced back toward the French doors one more time.
She’d sensed the struggle in him, and she’d found it odd. He wasn’t like her brothers. Two cops, a former special forces officer and an attorney. She’d expected them to jump into action and they had. It was their training.
But Jack was an architect—and her husband. Why had his first thought been to pursue the thief rather than rush to her side to be sure she was okay?
Glancing
