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“Did you know diamonds are found right here in the pacific NW?” said Ray as he walked into Dorrie’s carrying a newspaper in one hand and a bag of corn muffins in the other.
Dorrie was surprised he knew that. She hadn’t told him anything about her conversation with Mr. Johnson.
“It’s right here,” he explained, pointing to an article in the newspaper. Unlike most things in his shop this was new. “It just happened. A woman in Washington was digging in her garden and found a diamond.” He pointed to a picture of a woman holding up a dirt covered rock. Jessica was now interested and walked over to look.
“How did she know it was a diamond?” she asked. “It just looks like any rock would when it’s covered with dirt.”
“Exactly,” said Ray. “The article says that diamonds are sometimes found just in yards and a lot of people throw them out. This woman apparently knew it was different, got it looked at and found out for sure it was a diamond. She says she was even contacted by a geology company that was interested in surveying her land to look for more but she told them she wasn’t selling. Apparently, the company found out it wasn’t high-quality so they backed away anyway.”
“Thank God,” said Dorrie.
“I agree,” said Ray. “It’s amazing how ugly the diamond mining business is. If Mr. Johnson is right about the size of this diamond, 90 tons of soil were moved to unearth our gem. What a disaster!”
Dorrie sighed. It made her angry to think about it.
“Sorry,” Ray said, “I didn’t mean to bring depressing news. I was just trying to find more about the diamond’s beginning.” He told them about hunting for books on diamonds in his store and how the only book was about how corrupt diamond mining is.
“I love stones,” Dorrie said. “For some reason, until now I never really looked into how most of them were unearthed. I wonder how much destruction went into the stones I carry in my shop.”
“If it’s any consolation it’s probably nothing like that of the diamond. No one could afford to dig that much for a stone that is not considered precious.” Ray stopped to think about this. Then he added, “If one carat takes that much work to get, mining for diamonds must be a very expensive business even if it can pay off well in the end.”
That was something Dorrie hadn’t thought about before. Of course. she knew diamonds were expensive but she never thought about the industry beyond the advertisements with pictures of happy young couples. She now realized the business was high stakes for more than just the newlyweds.
Ray put the paper and muffins down on the table and then lifted off his backpack and looked at Dorrie, “A change of clothes if you are still serious about us all staying here tonight?”
“Of course, she is” said Jessica, “How else can we have a mystery sleep over.” Jessica looked around. “Where’s Jack?”
When he heard his name, Jack came inside dragging his leash. Immediately Pumpkin arched his back but when Jack just wagged his tail, circled the floor three times and plopped down, Pumpkin realized he wasn’t a threat. Pumpkin relaxed and resumed looking out the window. Jessica began clearing her work off of the table and piling it on the counter but she quickly ran out of room. “Let me move the cash drawer,” said Dorrie.
Jessica stopped shuffling papers and looked up. “Why do you have the cash drawer in here anyway?”
“I just thought that given last night I might put it upstairs,” Dorrie shrugged. “I guess that is silly.”
“No, it makes sense. I’ll move everything upstairs now so we have room for supper.” Jessica carried one armload up and came back for the cash drawer. As she picked up the drawer, something in it caught her eye. She looked at its contents. A few bills and a couple of credit card receipts, nothing unusual. Then she looked again at the last credit card receipt. It looked familiar somehow. Where had she seen it?
She started carrying it upstairs when suddenly it came to her. “That’s it,” she said. Ray and Dorrie stopped dishing up chili to look at her. “It’s the handwriting on the note left with the ring.” Jessica held up the credit card receipt that had been on top.
“What note?” asked Ray.
“The please save for me note,” said Jessica. “Look, it had the same slanted letters.” Now Dorrie came over to look. It was the signature scribbled on the credit card receipt of the woman.
“Let’s get the note and check,” Jessica she ran into the store and brought back the box. Dorrie was already convinced it was the same woman, but still opened the small silk purse and took out the note for Jessica to compare.
Ray and Jessica looked over Dorrie’s shoulder. “It’s her,” said Jessica, as though finally seeing a celebrity. She looked at Ray who was still looking over Dorrie’s shoulder with a slightly confused expression. “The woman who left the ring,” explained Jessica. “See, it has the same slant and the same capital P.”
“I think you are right. You found her,” he said looking over and smiling at Dorrie.
Ray picked up the two pieces of writing and held them side by side. “I didn’t really think that handwriting analysis could tell you anything. But it has to be the same person. How many people actually make their P’s with the curl at the top just the way they tell you to in second grade.” He looked up from the paper with a grin, “I wonder what that says about her?’
“That she was one of those people that actually paid attention in class,” Dorrie offered.
Ray frowned but only in jest. “It is her,” Dorrie said to herself realizing how clearly the diamond had spoken to her this time and it got warm again now in her pocket as they spoke.
“The letters do slant the same way,” said Jessica. “Maybe they are not hurried exactly but they do look like they are running.”
Ray opened the bag of muffins and passed them around. “I wonder if there is a way to be sure,” said Ray.
“No,” said Dorrie to no one in particular. “We don’t have to be sure. That was our woman in here today.”
“I can go with that,” said Ray happily sitting back down to his supper.
“Now our mystery woman has a name,” said Jessica happily as though meeting a new friend. “Carol Peters,” she read out loud.
“Not Carol Gilbert?” asked Ray. “Our Mr. Gilbert lied about her being his wife?”
“Probably kept her maiden name. It suits her better,” continued Jessica as she twirled her earrings in deep thought, “It is the kind of name that could wear a gray trench coat with a lavender umbrella.” She looked up at Dorrie. “I can’t believe I finally saw her and didn’t even notice what she was wearing.”
“Don’t worry, she hasn’t come back for the ring yet. I’m sure we will get to see her again.”
“So, what do we do with this now?” asked Ray.
“Wonder why she came here,” said Dorrie. “There are two fresh questions leading our trail now.” Ray might have his rumpled list of clues but Dorrie had to keep their path straight in her own way. “Why does the man want the ring and why did the woman come back here?” Dorrie was hoping that by saying the questions aloud they both might point in the same direction but if they did, she still couldn’t see it.
Why, that was the question that kept coming back. Dorrie now felt confident that they had the two ‘who’s’. She felt pretty certain that the ‘what’ was the ring. But they still didn’t know why. Why did the woman come back if not to get the ring?”
“I know why she came here,” said Jessica as though reading Dorrie’s thoughts. “She came here to ask you a question.”
“You’re right,” Dorrie, remembered how the whole visit began. She asked a question Dorrie couldn’t answer. Dorrie assumed that because the woman was young and new to stones that she didn’t really know what she wanted to know. But what if the young woman knew exactly what she wanted to know and Dorrie didn’t understand? “Can a stone make you see things that you have never saw before,” Dorrie said it out loud so they could all think about it.
After a few minutes Ray broke the silence. “I wonder what she saw?”
Dorrie hesitated. That was the question she wasn’t sure about. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I told her about how stones can help you have clarity about yourself and can strengthen your intuition about others but I don’t think that was what she was really asking.”
“It might be,” said Jessica. “Maybe after wearing the ring she suddenly realized the man was a controlling jerk and so she left him.”
“No,” said Ray, “I don’t mean could a stone help you realize that your husband is a jerk. I mean really show you something, something that was hidden or a secret. Show you something that someone didn’t want you to see. Something a person was hiding about themselves, like who they really are.”
“Or,” said Dorrie starting to get excited, “What he had really did.”
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CAROL SAT IN HER HOTEL room rubbing the amethyst crystal nervously between her fingers. It was seven o’clock. If it all worked out as she planned, he would now know where she was. She knew he wouldn’t have the bead store receipt yet but that wasn’t necessary tonight. She wanted him to know about the hotel. She wanted him to come to her. In the meantime, all she could do was wait.
Confusing thoughts flooded into her waiting. She saw his small acts that were self- serving and sometimes cruel and how he could quickly shift them into seeming like an act of kindness. It was this constantly changing kaleidoscope that always kept her feeling unbalanced.
As frightening as the image of the woman was, it was constant. Something that always came back to her when she felt her head spinning. And that had all begun after she started to wear the ring. This is what she was trying to understand when she went back to the bead store. She knew that somehow the image, even the young woman in the image, was trying to help her, but she did not understand how. Now the doubts were creeping back in and she had to fight thoughts that maybe she was crazy.
She continued to rub the amethyst crystal like a worry stone. She wasn’t sure that was how they worked but it was the only thing she knew to do with it. The book said that amethyst was good for protection and she needed that. She only really had a half plan at best. And she knew he was dangerous.
What would she say to him? She just felt for some reason she had to tell him what she knew. Would she tell him she was going to the police? How could she? She wasn’t even sure what she was seeing. What could she tell them? She started to panic about this and began picking up her things and putting them into her backpack. She had to get away.
Suddenly she saw the image of the woman and somehow it stopped her. Carol looked down at her backpack in her hands. “I almost ran away again,” She stopped gathering her things and sat down on the bed. This wasn’t something she could run away from, and more importantly she didn’t want to. The woman in the shop hadn’t answered her questions but didn’t think she was crazy. Maybe she wasn’t alone after all.