The de Gaulle was busy even in the early morning. Their tickets picked up and tucked in Dane’s pocket—he obviously wasn’t about to let her hold them unless she traded for a diamond—and their flight took off in fifteen minutes. Becca kept the rocks in the velvet pouch in the pocket of her wool slacks. Not secure, but she wasn’t about to risk losing her laptop bag or putting the diamonds in an airport safe. Already one exchange had gone wrong. Keeping them in hand was the only option. She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping she could tie things up in Berlin and make it home in time for the gala. Should she not make it, Lucy had Sherri Grant, a fellow Gotham Rose club member, at the top of her list for replacement hostess. Of course, with the time change she did have more than a few hours to work with.
She sat next to Dane in the boarding lobby on one of the hard plastic chairs designed for maximum discomfort.
Along with the slacks, she’d changed to a snug red V-neck Ralph Lauren Black Label cashmere sweater Kristi had sent along. The pink silk Louboutins were a new favorite, so she wore those again.
Dane tipped up her shoe. “You’ve worn these once already. Won’t that screw with the very fabric of the universe?”
Laughing, Becca decided it was difficult to fault a man who knew his designer shoes.
“You got the rocks?”
“Don’t worry, they’re in good hands.”
“I’d feel a lot better if I could hang on to them.”
He punched a fist into his palm, and when he did it again, Becca intercepted, catching his fist with both hands. The amount of tension she felt surprised her.
“Do I piss you off, Dane? You make it so much fun to push your buttons.”
“This coming from a master button manipulator, eh, high maintenance?”
She tightened her grip on his fist. “Go ahead, take your best shot. All this pent-up anger of yours is obviously meant for me.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, love.”
“Prove it. Tell me what I need to know.”
Pulling free of her grip, Dane slumped against the plastic seat. He shrugged his shoulders and considered for a moment. “We’re not playing for the same team. You should know better than to ask.”
“And here I’d always thought the Brits and the U.S. were partners?”
“MI-6 is international.”
“Uh-huh.” Man, the guy was closed tighter than a steel safe. “All right then, don’t forget, I can play your game. But tell me this, is your team on the side of the good guys or the bad guys?”
“Good.”
“Promise?”
“I can’t promise anything.”
There was more going on behind those sneaky blue eyes. Information about Dimitri Boratov, she guessed.
Your objective has been altered. You’re to locate Uther.
So why did she feel compelled to chase after Dimitri? He was key; she sensed it.
“Work with me for just a minute, will you?” she asked. “A genius scientist imbeds code, or something, inside two ten-carat diamonds.”
Dane nodded. “Sure.”
“What for?” Becca wondered. “What is the significance of the diamond? Why not hide the code on a disk?”
“Disks are easily readable and stealable.”
“Obviously the diamonds are, too.”
“True. But not so destructible.”
“Good point. Now the Russian Mafia is after the diamonds, or so we suspect. And very possibly… MI-6.” She waited for Dane’s reaction, but didn’t get the affronted protest she’d expected.
“What about the CIA?” He tossed out the question. “Just because you’re working for them doesn’t mean you have a clue, New York. Are you charged to bring back evidence?”
“That’s usually what one does on a case like this.”
“Fair is fair then. We’ve both got the same goal.”
“But why? I want to know what’s inside, to decipher the code. Maybe some kind of military secrets?” She perked up. Her thoughts began to hum. “I was able to erase the first diamond. An erasable code…that makes some kind of sense.”
“For military use? Not when the method of delivering the codes is in such a sought-after item as a diamond.”
“What if the diamond was the payment? The recipient receives the information, erases it, does whatever the code requires of him, and then…sells the gem.”
“It would make for easy crossing through airport security checks for a terrorist,” Dane agreed, looking toward the gate they would pass through shortly. “Not with a diamond so large, but if it were smaller, and set in a ring or necklace.”
“We’ve got to talk to Uther.”
Her cell phone jingled and Becca answered.
“Rebecca?”
“Mother?” She hadn’t heard from her for weeks. Last conversation they’d had, Emily had been calling from a mobile box phone in Sri Lanka, part of her crusade to help bring learning supplies to schoolchildren.
“Rebecca!” Her mother insisted on using her birth name, despites Becca’s insistent claims to its stodginess. “I tried to get hold of you all day yesterday. And now you greet me like that?”
A pinch to her right arm alerted Becca. Dane unobtrusively nodded across the aisle to the bookstore thirty feet away. A man dressed in dark blue jeans and a pullover black sweatshirt peered at them over the top of his upside-down book.
“He’s been watching us,” Dane said as he lifted Becca’s elbow and she stood. “Follow me. Keep up your conversation.”
“Rebecca?”
“I’m here, Mother. From where are you calling? Are you still in Sri Lanka?”
She hooked her arm in Dane’s and they walked, as a couple, across the aisle to look over the lighted kiosk that displayed a map of the airport. From the corner of her eye she noticed the suspect tilt his head and say something. To no one around him. Must be wired.
She verified with eye contact that Dane had seen the same. He tugged her along. Together they walked past the man.
“I’m in Tuscany for a week, dear. Flew in last night. Your father insisted I take a mini-vacation. He’s right— I needed this rest. But I can’t wait to get back to working with the children. They are so eager to learn!”
“You’re a wonder, Mother.”
“You know me, I have to keep busy.”
No, she didn’t really know her mother, precisely because she was always so busy.
“Are you excited about the gala?” Emily never forgot a reason to get dressed up and don rivers of jewels.
“Yes, it’s going to be marvelous,” Becca replied. “I wish you could come.”
Dane suddenly tugged her to the right, down a long hallway that led to the restrooms. No one else was in the hall. Their mark followed at a distance.
With a nudge, Dane gestured toward the women’s room.
“I think your father will be flying in for the event,” Emily continued.
Becca paid partial attention to her mother, fixing the majority on the thug behind them. She stopped at the door to the women’s room and blew a kiss to Dane, who stood at the men’s room door. She didn’t want to step inside, but their pursuer would expect it. She did so.
Becca dodged to avoid the swoop of a fist. Phone hand swinging out for counterbalance, she twisted up and intuitively delivered a right fist to her attacker’s gut. A bleached blonde in a pink velour sweatsuit let out a guttural squawk. Pink.
Where had she come from?
“Rebecca?”
She kicked high and caught Pink under the jaw with the toe of her shoe. “Right here, Mother.”
Pink wielded a white plastic pick. The weapon slashed over the arch of Becca’s foot, leaving a gash.
“You don’t sound well. You’re breathing heavily. What’s wrong?”
Tossing the cell phone into one of the sinks, Becca gripped Pink by the throat and delivered another punch. Pink slid to the floor, knocked out cold, blond curls bounced over her left eye.
Becca retrieved the phone. “I’m fine, Mother. You said Father was going to be in town? He hasn’t called.”
“His tour just ended. He’s coming home to rest as soon as things are tied up. He should be there soon, unless he takes the red-eye, then look for him Sunday morning.”
“I will, Mother.” She prodded Pink with the toe of her shoe. “I’ll try to contact Father, see if he plans to make the gala. I’ve some business to take care of first.”
“Is it a man?”
Becca smirked and toed the plastic pick away from Pink’s leg. Zeek would need to send an agent to take care of Pink. “No, Mother, it’s not a man.”
She bent and patted down Pink’s jogging suit, shoulder to ankle. No other weapons. Katarine Veld, eh? How did she always know where to find Becca? She hadn’t been able to shake this tail since London.
A quick walk through the three stalls didn’t produce a hidden purse or backpack.
“I should let you go, Mother.” Becca grabbed Pink’s left wrist and dragged her into the farthest stall. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“You, too, sweetie. You would tell me if it was a man, wouldn’t you?”
Becca strode to the door and peeked out. Dane stood outside the men’s room. He gave her a thumbs-up as she walked to him.
“Yes, Mother. But I promise, no men in my life at the moment.”
Dane gave a mock pout.
“Talk to you soon.” Becca clicked off.
“I’m not a man?” Dane hooked his arm in hers.
“I thought you were a big boy,” Becca teased.
He nodded to a passing officer, who hastened by and into the men’s room.
“That was fast.”
“I called security. My people will be in touch with them as soon as possible.”
“Send one to the ladies’ room as well.”
“Really?”
“Pink was waiting for me in some atrocious velour number.”
“Well, this little adventure is getting bloody interesting.”
Dane flipped open his phone, redialed security and directed them to the ladies’ room.
“Our flight just issued last boarding call,” Becca said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Sabrina Morgan poked around inside the refrigerator, looking for a snack. A few dehydrated carrots lurked at the back of the highest plastic tray. Three eggs wobbled on the second. Uther literally lived on Mountain Dew and sliced ham on rye. So unhealthy.
She’d arrived at his apartment on Madison Avenue well after midnight, wanting to surprise Uther, but he wasn’t home, so she’d let herself in. She hadn’t been able to reach him for days. But that wasn’t strange. Twice since she’d met him, he’d left for spontaneous “breathers.” She knew exactly where he was.
He’d promised to be home by morning.
They would attend the Grace Notes gala, where they planned to officially appear as a couple after their recent engagement.
Sabrina couldn’t help wondering when Uther would spring the big surprise he’d been teasing her about for weeks. It had better be before the gala.
Deciding on a glass of water, she pressed a heavy tumbler against the ice-maker tab in the door of the fridge. The ice machine hummed and growled, but it didn’t make the usual crushing noise.
“Did he forget to make ice again? Sometimes that man can be so absentminded. Amazing he is a genius.”
She tugged open the freezer door and pulled out the huge white ice cube tub. It was full of half-moon cubes.
“Something must be jammed.”
She probed the ice cubes to the base of the plastic tub, where they funneled down to the waiting glass. There was something big stuck in the shoot. She pulled it out. What a strange piece of ice.
“Yes!”