Thieves Like Us Part 2

Her uncharitable thoughts about Portman came screeching to a halt. "Wait. It was stolen? From a museum?" She had no idea how Banner ended up buying it more than two hundred years later, but that wasn't her problem. If it had been stolen, that meant it had to be returned. No one got to keep the necklace. Which meant she couldn't keep the money. She sighed, prepared to deal with yet another piece of debris from her disastrous marriage.

"It's not a problem, officer. I'm quite willing to give Mr. Portman his money back. I'll just rip up the check."

"Ma'am, you can work that out with Portman's later. Right now we'd like you to come to the station with us for a talk."

She nodded, willing to cooperate, but unsure what more she could tell them. "About what?"

"About why you were in possession of priceless stolen jewelry. And why you were so anxious to sell it." He raised an eyebrow, the first change in his expression. "Just to clear things up."

Priceless? Janet swallowed, and wasn't surprised to feel a lump in her throat. "Do I need a lawyer?"

"No, ma'am. But you can call one if you'd like. We'll wait."

She reminded herself that innocent people providing information didn't need lawyers. But she'd seen too much TV to think the facts couldn't get twisted. "Just give me a couple minutes to make that call."

But not to her lawyer. The woman had done an excellent job of protecting her against Banner's legal sharks during their divorce, but had no experience with criminal cases. There was only one person she knew of who understood the ins and outs of the legal system and knew something about stolen jewelry- Rocky Hernandez.

With no windows to let in fresh air, the interview room smelled of body odor and stale coffee.

And criminals. She couldn't help the irrational thought. Her ex-husband had probably sat in this very room with one or two of his high-priced attorneys. This was where they brought their suspects.

They could have talked with her in that bright office she'd pa.s.sed, but they'd brought her here. Maybe they thought the privacy would make her more relaxed, but it just reminded her that murderers and rapists had sat in this spot before her. Edging forward, she put the smallest possible part of her in contact with her chair.

She nearly jumped up when Rocky came in, followed by Furley and his partner. She half stood, barely having enough time to register her surprise at Rocky's neatly tailored three-piece suit before he surprised her again by leaning down to give her a brief hug. She realized just how nervous she'd been when she felt herself relax. As they sat, he kept his arm slung across the back of her chair.

"Thanks for coming," she said.

"No problem." His hand came up to touch her shoulder and his dark brown eyes crinkled with a rea.s.suring smile before he turned to face the officers across from them. "Let's just tell them what they want to know, and we'll be out of here."

She nodded. The sooner the better.

Furley and his partner were distant but polite as she gave a detailed story of receiving the necklace from Banner, then selling it to Portman's along with her engagement ring. But it was Rocky's hand resting lightly on her shoulder that kept her calm and steady. She never realized how much trust and confidence she had in him. Maybe it was the suit. She'd rarely seen him in anything but the ubiquitous Hawaiian s.h.i.+rts and jeans. She barely recognized him.

Unfortunately, it seemed Sergeant Furley did. When she finished talking, it was Rocky who captured his attention. Furley gave him a hard stare that made her s.h.i.+ft uncomfortably in her chair again, but Rocky seemed unaffected. "What did you say your name was?"

"Roberto Hernandez."

"Huh. I've heard of you before."

"Really? I'm sorry I can't say I've heard of you."

Furley's brow puckered as he thought. "I've seen your picture."

Rocky gave a modest shrug. "I'm quite photogenic."

Beckman, Furley's partner, had said nothing while Janet spoke, and he didn't move now as he regarded Rocky from his tipped-back chair. After several seconds the stony facade cracked, and a smile that was more like a sneer crossed his face. He whacked his partner in the shoulder. "Rocky Hernandez. Spent some time as a guest of the county."

Furley brightened. "Right. Now I remember. Burglary, wasn't it?"

"No." Rocky corrected him with a tight smile. "Breaking and entering. But it's nice to be remembered."

He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Thought you said you were a law student."

"I am."

"They let criminals become lawyers?"

"With good character references." He flashed a smile. "I have an exemplary character."

Furley smirked. "Ya don't say."

Janet gave Rocky a worried glance. He looked unconcerned, even though his steady gaze seemed to hide a touch of annoyance at the line of questioning. Furley, on the other hand, was beginning to look like a lion stalking a zebra. "Rumor has it you're a pro."

"You can't believe everything you hear. And I'll be glad to chat with you about it later, but my past has nothing to do with Janet."

Furley ignored the hint. "Jewelry, isn't it? That's your thing." He looked between Janet and Rocky. "And your pretty little friend here was selling a hot necklace. Wouldn't you call that interesting?"

"I'd say it's more ironic," Rocky answered.

Janet didn't know how Rocky could remain so calm when Furley's smile had become so predatory. Feeling uneasy, she s.h.i.+fted her gaze to Beckman. He stared back with the same intensity her cat had while watching birds, unflinching and ready to pounce. A tiny whiplash of panic sent her heart racing. "Rocky?"

He squeezed her shoulder. "It's all right, Janet. These nice officers are right to be concerned, but you haven't done anything wrong. You didn't know the necklace was stolen, you went to a respected jeweler, and you didn't try to hide your ident.i.ty or deny what you did." He looked at Furley. "Just like any innocent person would do."

Furley gave him an emotionless glance, then focused on Janet. "This friend of yours," he consulted his notes, "Ellie. She heard the whole transaction?"

"Yes."

"I'd like her address and phone number so we can verify your story."

Janet wiggled on the edge of her chair. "I can give it to you, but she's not there. She left on vacation this morning, and she's probably halfway over the Atlantic right now."

Furley raised an eyebrow. "She left the country?"

Janet could almost hear alarm bells ring and fought to stay calm. "It's a delayed honeymoon. She went with her husband."

"So the trip was planned for some time?"

d.a.m.n. "Uh, no, I don't think so. It was a spontaneous thing." She widened her eyes at Rocky in an appeal for help.

"Newlyweds," he said with a happy smile, as if that explained everything. "They didn't leave their itinerary, but I believe they're flying to Heathrow, then Frankfurt. Perhaps you can find a way to leave a message for them."

They had a staring contest for several seconds. Since Rocky looked unperturbed, Janet sat quietly and waited it out. Finally, Furley turned back to her. "Did your husband give you any other pieces of jewelry?"

"Ex-husband." She and Rocky said it together.

"No," she told Furley.

"Perhaps you forgot."

"Not a chance. We weren't together that long, and he wasn't that generous."

Furley rubbed his upper lip while waiting for her to volunteer more information. When she didn't, he pulled out a business card and pushed it across the table. "If you find anything that indicates where your ex-husband bought the necklace"-he emphasized the ex part, as though indulging an unreasonable request-"give me a call."

He stood, and Janet breathed a sigh of relief. "I doubt I'll find anything," she told him. "Whatever I didn't give away or throw out, I dumped into a big pile and burned." She followed Rocky's lead and rose, conscious of his hand on her back as she left the room. He kept it there until they reached the front door of the police station, and he held it open for her. Once on the sidewalk, he grinned at her. "That wasn't so bad."

She s.h.i.+vered, even though the sun felt warm. "I felt like a suspect."

"You were a logical suspect."

He seemed too complacent about it. "It's not funny."

"Sorry." But he shook his head and chuckled. "I just never thought being questioned by the police was something we'd have in common."

That better be as far as it went; she had no desire to see the inside of a jail cell. She sighed. "Thank you for coming down here. I didn't know who else to call."

"My pleasure, even if I was your default choice for someone with criminal experience."

He was so amused by the whole thing, she decided she might be overdramatizing the incident. At least he'd gone to the trouble of wearing a power suit to impress the cops. She took a second to admire the look. "You know, for an ex-con, you clean up well." She fingered his jacket. "I didn't know you even owned a suit."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." He gave her a smile that made her think of a mischievous little boy, but one who was all grown up and interested in far more adult pursuits. The trippy feeling hit her chest again.

He didn't seem to notice the effect he had on her. "You should have called me before you went to Portman's. I could have saved you the embarra.s.sment of being hauled down to the police station and treated like a criminal."

"I wasn't 'hauled' down anywhere, I went willingly." But he was right, it was embarra.s.sing. His grin defused her temper. "How could you have prevented that? Are you telling me you know more about jewelry than Mr. Portman and his father?"

"Apparently, I know more about stolen jewelry. I recognized the necklace."

"You did?" She couldn't keep the amazement out of her voice. "They said it was stolen over two hundred years ago, so I know you had nothing to do with it."

He put a hand to his chest. "You wound me. I really must clarify my criminal history for you sometime."

She gave him a sidelong glance, thinking that might be a good idea. And a dangerous one-if she found out he really wasn't the criminal she'd tried to pretend he was, she'd have fewer defenses against all that s.e.xy charm. She needed to resist him. Rocky was the most tempting man she'd ever met, but she couldn't afford to make the same mistake she had with Banner.

"I really would like to hear what you know about the necklace."

"It'll be best if I can use the Internet."

That meant letting him in her house. "Okay," she agreed, telling herself it was for educational purposes only.

The laptop was where she'd left it on the coffee table. Beside it, her large black-and-white cat sprawled in a pool of sunlight. She shooed him away while Rocky stripped off his suit coat and adjusted his vest before sitting down and tapping at the keys. For a moment she let her mind go fuzzy. He did the corporate look so well, it was hard to picture him in his stupid Hawaiian s.h.i.+rts. The man was a chameleon. Probably a good quality in a thief, but not in a . . . whatever he was to her. Acquaintance.

After only ten seconds of searching, he turned the screen toward her. "There's your necklace."

She sat beside him, studying the picture on the screen. The ugly necklace was laid out on black velvet, twinkling from every gold link that showed between the small pearls. The pendant glowed with rich red tones.

"How can there be a picture of it if it disappeared before the invention of the camera?"

"It's a copy." He stroked the cat, who had settled on the couch beside him. "Most famous jewels and jewelry are copied. Now look at this."

He reached across her and clicked open another window. Now the necklace was the central piece in an arrangement of matching jewels-two earrings, a ring, and a brooch. Red stones shone on all the pearl-encrusted gold pieces, but none as large as the one in the necklace. "Have you ever seen any of those?"

She shook her head. "Were those stolen, too?"

"Yes, all at the same time. And they most likely went to the same collector."

"So where are they now?"

"No one knows. They could have been pa.s.sed down through generations, but it's more likely that whoever stole them cared more for money than gems and sold them through underground connections. They could have traveled the world several times since their theft as they changed hands. How they popped up now is the million-dollar question. Or, I should say, millions of dollars."

He had to be kidding. "For those ugly things?"

"For the Pellinni Jewels. What's this guy's name?" He scratched a furry cheek in what the cat obviously thought was just the right spot.

"Jingles," she told him absently, looking at the computer screen.

He winced. "Sorry, man," he commiserated, scratching Jingles's other cheek. The cat purred while Janet hunched forward to examine the earrings. Pa.s.sably pretty, she decided. The ring and brooch were downright ugly.

"Why is it so valuable?"

"Large spinels are rare. The Pellinni is thought to be forty-two carats, but it's only an estimate because accurate measurements weren't available until the early twentieth century, and by that time it was long gone."

She stared at the necklace that she'd shoved in the back of her lingerie drawer a year ago, not even bothering to put it in the safe as Banner had instructed. Millions of dollars? She turned to cast a curious look over her shoulder. "How do you know about some Italian jewelry collection that's a few hundred years old?"

"Over six hundred years. And it started out Italian, but it's actually considered German."

Janet sat back, waiting for the explanation.

Bending toward Jingles's furry head, he said, "He's pretending not to be impressed with my wealth of knowledge."

She tried not to smile, which was difficult while he ma.s.saged her cat into a purring, drooling state of bliss. Not that she'd let it influence her, but the cat had disliked Banner, with what she suspected was good reason.

Jingles flopped over, shamelessly begging for more attention as Rocky talked. "A rich Florentine bride, Giovanna Pellinni, brought it with her as part of her dowry when she married a German n.o.bleman, Franz Konig. That was in 1465. It was pa.s.sed down in the Konig family as the Pellinni Jewels, until they were donated to a museum in the eighteenth century."

"Probably when some smart Konig woman refused to wear them."

She wasn't kidding, but he smiled anyway. "Maybe. They were stolen soon after that, in 1788, and never seen again. That is, until Banner gave you the Pellinni necklace and you sold it."

"Very impressive. So how do you know all that? Did you expect to come across famous missing German jewelry while looting someone's safe in Bloomfield Hills?"

His smile grew wider and more lopsided. Cuter, too, d.a.m.n it. "No. You could call it professional interest. I like to know my trade."

"So you know what to steal."

"So I'd know what not to steal. I was extremely selective. And that"-he indicated the picture on the screen-"is something I would have avoided. But I'll admit it would be nice to admire the workmans.h.i.+p up close."

The history of the necklace she'd temporarily owned was fascinating, but she was suddenly more interested in Rocky's career as a jewel thief. She only knew what Ellie had told her, and she hadn't been interested in hearing it back then.

"Ellie told me you only stole from other thieves."