SIXTY

BEAUTY has tamed the savage beast . . .

My first thought when I arrived at Gus’s bedside after checking on David—who was doing fine and (thank Cupid) didn’t blame Nancy in the least.

With good news on my first visit, I was feeling positive about the second. That’s when I found Gus’s lovely daughter on a hospital couch, cradled in the arms of her Viking-sized husband.

The room was peaceful with ambient forest noises floating through the air from a small machine on the windowsill, and there was another sound, too.

Hunter Rolf was stroking his wife’s dark golden hair while quietly singing in another language, his voice a whispered purr accompanied by the soft pinging of the medical monitors.

“Byssan lull, koka kittelen full,” he sang.

Just then, he spied me in the doorway—and without breaking rhythm he put his index finger to his lips. As he finished his song, he slipped out from under his sleeping wife, put his jacket under her head for a pillow, and draped his coat over her for a blanket.

In shirtsleeves, he led me into the hallway.

“I’m sorry, but I do not wish to wake her. She slept very little in the past twenty-four hours.”

“Of course.”

“You are Ms. Cosi, from last night?”

Hunter was clearly embarrassed that he had to ask, but I didn’t blame him. With my hair in a ponytail, and my jeans and flats, I looked a lot different today.

“Call me Clare.”

He nodded, and when he spoke again, I could better hear the lilting Swedish rhythms in his speech.

“Please accept my apology for my behavior last evening. I was not sure that I could trust you. And when you asked about the man in Rome, I became protective. Perhaps overly so. But my dear wife explained what a trusted friend you are, and she is grateful you found me at the club. So am I. We talked all night and worked out many misunderstandings . . .”

It seemed Hunter had transformed overnight, from angry lion to purring kitten. Of course, Sophia had warned me that her husband was a charmer—so I viewed this gentler version of the gem dealer with a skeptical eye.

“I’m glad we had a chance to meet again,” I told him with reserve, and pointed to my tote bag. “I brought something to eat.”

“How kind of you, Clare. Sophia will be happy. Lately, it seems the first two words out of her mouth every morning are ‘I’m hungry.’”

“I brought coffee, too. If you’ve tried to choke down the brew here, you know why.”

“I am sure Sophia will enjoy it, but I cannot drink coffee. I have an allergy to caffeine.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I get the hives.”

Resisting the urge to ask how he felt about blueberries, I glanced at Gus. “How is Mr. Campana?”

“Not good, I am sorry to say . . .” Hunter gravely shook his head. “The toxicology tests revealed that Gus was poisoned—”

“Poisoned?”

“Acute exposure to beryllium salts. His condition is very serious. But there is hope. Now that the doctors know the problem, they have begun a proper treatment.”

“How was he poisoned?”

“Beryllium is used in metal processing, so it was probably an accident at the forge. Early this morning, two female police detectives visited us here at the hospital. They wanted access to the Campana property, so Sophia called her security man to let them in. I’m confident the police will find out how this accident happened.”

“Did Gus show any symptoms of poisoning when you talked to him yesterday?”

“None at all. He seemed fine. Happy. I brought him good news.”

“I see. And the news . . . I assume it was connected to that business meeting you had last night?”

“Yes, that was a celebration. As I explained to Sophia last night, the deal is sealed and will bring millions of dollars to the Campana family business over the next few years. I will no longer be the freeloader in this family.”

“Freeloader? That’s a harsh word. Is that how Sophia felt?”

“No, not my wife. But her father did. He did not believe I truly loved his daughter. He thought my marriage to her was a scheme to profit from their successful family business.”

“Why would he believe that?”

Hunter lowered his eyes. “He had good reason. My old business, and the way I conducted it, bothered Sophia terribly.”

“Did you do anything illegal, Hunter?”

“Not illegal, but, I admit . . . some would not view it as ethical. You see, in addition to hunting gems, I procure heirloom jewelry. I act as a middleman between buyers and sellers. Because my clients are almost exclusively women, I try to be amiable, persuasive—even charming—in order to detach a valuable piece from a widow, a divorcée, or a neglected wife.”

“You seduce the jewelry out of them for a fraction of its value—is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“These are very wealthy women, Clare, and they part with their items by choice.”

“But you persuade them—charm the stones from them, by your own admission. Romancing the Stone is a term I’ve heard—”

“Yes, yes, I saw that movie years ago.” He smiled weakly. “But that is now behind me.”

“Behind you? You gave it up?”

He folded his arms. “Sophia would see a client’s text messages or overhear a phone conversation, and she’d fly into a jealous rage. She would not accept that my heart was hers alone and my brief associations with these women was simply business, so . . .” He shrugged. “I decided to make it my business no longer.”

“You gave up romancing the stones? Completely?”

“Completely, yes. With what the three sheikhs have paid me, and the new connections I have made through Eduardo, I will be able to invest in the Campana business and work with Sophia. We will no longer be apart. No more traveling for our separate businesses. Together, Sophia and I are going to help Gus with the family business, and with my investment, we can begin planning for a profitable expansion.”

The noises in the hospital corridor increased, and Sophia made a sound in her sleep. Hunter paused to check on his wife and partially closed the door.

His concern for Sophia seemed so tender and genuine, his demeanor so gentle, that it was hard to reconcile my suspicions that Hunter was the coldhearted shooter who’d targeted so many good cops.

But Hunter was undeniably an associate of Eduardo De Santis, a known—if unconvicted—drug dealer. And Hunter went on safari with De Santis, which meant this kindhearted hustler was capable of killing a helpless animal. It also meant he had the skills to act as a hired sniper.

“One more question, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I asked about the man in Rome last night. I’ll ask again now. Who is this man, and why did you want to speak with Gus about—?”

“Hunter? Is that you out there?” called Sophia through the door. “I’m hungry. I hope you got us something to eat!”