Raine smiled to herself. She could almost hear Trey flexing, two thousand miles to the west. “Not in so many words. He said something about SauroStar being just a hobby so far, but now that he’s got time to give us his undivided attention…”
“Hmm. Is there any chance, considering this is the find of a lifetime and considering you’ve been known to be a trifle, well…intense…when it comes to getting your dino, that you’re mistaking plain old bone hunter’s lust for something stronger and more personal?”
Slowly she shook her head at the cat, who’d rolled onto his side to gaze at her with a pair of simmering amber eyes. “No.” Cade had looked at her last night the way Otto must contemplate a mouse creeping along the baseboards. As something to be toyed with, then tasted, and finally devoured—and every last bite would be personal. “No, he’s got something against us, Trey. Something big and bad.”
“Then it’s got to be findable. I’ll keep on digging.”
“Thanks.” She stretched to rub her foot along the cat’s belly—a dangerous caress, but hard to resist. “Anything else?”
“One last thing. You mentioned the girl’s gloves? Are you sure they were gloves—and not tattoos?”
Raine laughed in surprise. “No, the light was hardly the best, but I’m fairly certain. Thin blue gloves, chopped off at the first knuckle. Why?”
“Just something I stumbled across, once in my travels. You know Borneo’s head-hunting country?”
“Yikes!” Raine sat upright, then scootched back against the mounded pillows. “But that’s got to be…way back in their dark and evil past, right?”
“Well, yeah, if you call 2001 the Bad Ol’ Days.”
“Oh, stop! You’re not serious.”
“’Fraid I am, though I s’pose you could write off that latest episode of head-taking as a nasty little hiccup. Just a minor backslide during an intertribal tiff about land rights.”
“I thought Lia seemed a bit…intense, herself,” Raine murmured, smoothing her palm thoughtfully down her neck.
“If she’s a Dayak, then, yeah, the women were as warlike as the men. But what you’ve got to understand is that head-hunting was a matter of prestige. To prove your daring and skill. If a guy wanted to score with a girl, he darned sure better bring a few heads when he came courting.”
“Beats a bouquet of roses any ol’ day,” Raine observed dryly.
“On an island with ten thousand flowers for the picking, I reckon it did. Anyway, to take a head meant you were a great achiever. And to advertise that you were a head-lopping Bravo, you had your hands tattooed blue—from the wrist to the first knuckle.”
Goose bumps stampeded up her arms. Raine shuddered as she rubbed them. “Oh, come on! This is a thoroughly twenty-first century kid. Uses the Internet and nail polish, for Pete’s sake.”
“Yeah, but it never fails to amaze me how people hang on to what works for them from their own culture, like polygamy or camel racing, then they graft MTV and cell phones on top of it. All I’m saying is that maybe Lia’s given herself blue hands to show she’s a high achiever. That she’s fearless and she’ll stop at nothing.”
“Or that she means to score big,” Raine murmured.
“All of the above. So my one bit of advice to you is, whatever you do, just don’t…lose your—”
Raine groaned. “Don’t you dare say it!”
“Okay, I won’t,” he agreed, chuckling. “I’ll call you when I’ve got more.” And just like that Trey was gone.
Raine sighed, hung up the phone and oozed back down to mattress level. “Nap?” she suggested, rubbing Otto’s belly with her toes.
Like a fuzzy orange bear trap, his paws snapped around her.
Chapter 8
I t was 3:08! “Come on, Ms. Precisely, pick up that phone!” Raine prayed, wincing as another helicopter juddered overhead, then roared off over the Brooklyn Bridge.
Betting that Lia would have set their original rendezvous not too far from wherever she lived, Raine had returned to the neighborhood. The bridge breached like a gray whale over her northern horizon. Beneath its belly the blue river teemed with barges and boats. The lunchtime flood of brokers from Wall Street had gone back to their moneymaking, though foot-weary tourists still shuffled along the pier’s decks and stopped at its railings to ogle the view.
Raine’s laptop lay ready on the table before her, already opened to a Web site that boasted the best backward phone directory online. If Lia called from a landline, Raine could ID her number, then trace it from there.
“Dammit, call me!” Could Cade have gotten to the kid somehow? Outbid her already?
“Nice day. Feel like some company?” A straggler from the stock exchange touched the back of the chair opposite Raine’s and gave her a winsome smile.
“Sorry, but I’m expecting a business—yes!” Raine cried as her phone chimed. The suit shrugged and retreated while she said crisply, “Raine Ashaway speaking.”
“How much will you bid?” demanded Lia, cutting straight to the chase.
Raine rolled her eyes. “Hello, Lia. How are you?” That drew no response, so she continued. “I do have an offer I think you’ll like, but it’s a bit complicated. I’d rather show you the figures on paper. Could I invite you over to Pier 17 for a drink and a chat?”
“Not today. How much will you give for this amazing, most beguiling fossil?”
Raine smacked her forehead, then sighed. “Okay. Do you know what I mean by percent? A share of something?”
“Huh! You think I’m stupid? I study math, science, many difficult subjects here in New York City.”
“Good, then here’s what Ashaway All proposes. It wouldn’t be fair to offer you just a flat price for the tooth, because nobody knows what it’s worth. Nothing like it has ever been seen or sold before. So here’s what I suggest: We pay you a certain amount up front. An advance on what you’ll finally realize.” Enough cash to keep the kid happy, and let her embark on a shopping spree. Raine was hoping that by the time the real payoff arrived, she’d have calmed down enough to bank some of it. It would be a shame to see her blow her fortune overnight.
“How much?”
“That depends on what you sell me.” Much as she wanted the tooth, Raine wanted the rest of the T. rex more. Whatever Lia knew about the dino’s location, that had to be part of their deal. “But first, here’s what Ashaway All would do to earn our cut of the final sales price.”
Damn, but she hated to negotiate over the phone, unable to watch Lia’s face. Still Raine forged cheerily on, outlining how her firm, with its sterling reputation and worldwide connections, was best suited to vouch for the tooth’s authenticity and provenance.
In
