LITMIR.BIZ

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      THREE

      “Ted, tell the police it was a break-in. I’d locked the door but hadn’t set the alarm. Two men came in and started shooting, but I ran to the back and hid in the studio. Then I managed to get away.”

      She heard Ted’s deep exhale. “They shot at you? I can’t believe this. Are you sure you’re okay?”

      “I’m fine,” she said, trying to reassure him. “Check on Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds for me. I’m headed back there now. I’ll come around front.”

      “Good, because I got here and the police are asking all sorts of questions. And Mr. Reynolds is talking to them right now. Of course, Miss Helen is telling anyone who’ll listen that we all almost got murdered. But are you okay? I mean, really okay?”

      Ted fretted about things, especially her health and well-being. “I’m fine but rattled. I could have stayed to fight them but they had guns and I—”

      She stopped, refusing to lie, but she’d also left out the part about the handsome tomb raider who’d helped her escape, and Esther was glad of that for now. She’d have to tell Ted about that later, when her assistant wasn’t about to hyperventilate. Later, when she could think straight.

      Of course, if Helen Reynolds had seen Cullen, the whole city would know about him soon enough.

      She hung up, then stared at Cullen. “I have to go file a police report. I can’t hide this from them. This is my livelihood and I’ll have to file an insurance report.”

      He did another scan of the area. “Okay. I get that. But we need to talk.”

      “Yes, I’m all ears,” she retorted. “I think you have more on your travel itinerary than searching for diamonds, right?”

      He didn’t even bother trying to look innocent. “Yes, and I’ll explain. But not here, okay? Is there someplace besides your shop where we can meet back up? Maybe somewhere I can hide out for a while?”

      Esther shivered in spite of the warm night. Her clothes were dirty and rumpled, her hair falling down around her face. She wanted a bath and a cup of tea and…she wanted to wake up with her shop back intact and her brain less jumbled.

      She should tell him to take a hike, but she was in this up to her neck now. And she wanted answers. “I have another place in the Garden District. My father lived over the shop, but I live in a studio apartment behind an estate house.” She thought about hiding Cullen in the space over the shop, but she didn’t like the idea of him snooping around up there. “My place is on Prytania Street. You can stay there until I get finished, but I’d rather not have another shoot-out.”

      “I promise if anyone shows up, I’ll draw them away from the house,” he said, his blue-gray eyes washing over her like a storm. “Will your landlord mind?

      “No.” She wasn’t about to tell him that her friend relied on Esther’s discretion. “Maybe this is a bad idea,” she said. She couldn’t risk anything happening to Lara’s second home in the United States. “Can’t you find a hotel?”

      “They’d check all the hotels.”

      “Who are they? Who is Hogan?” She knew she’d heard that name before.

      “Not here,” he said, pulling her through the crowd. “It’s too risky.”

      He tugged her toward the corner, then glanced into the crowd. “They must have split once they heard the sirens. I’ll shadow you back to your shop, then I’ll find my way to your other house. Do you have a key?”

      She gave him the address and told him where to find the spare key. “I have an alarm, but it’s one of those kind that alerts me, not the police or a security company,” she explained. Then she whispered the code. Grabbing him by the arm, she leaned close. “Cullen, don’t make me regret this.”

      As if sensing her concerns, he reached into his bag and brought out the small worn leather pouch again. “Your father’s letters. You can read them later, but for now that’s all the proof you need in order to trust me.”

      Esther touched the rough dark leather, the warmth from Cullen’s body still on it. “Thank you—again.” She noticed the street sign at the corner of St. Peter and Royal. “We can part here. The shop is right up there.”

      He nodded. “I’ll watch until I see you with the police. I’ll be waiting, Esther. It’s not safe for you here alone.”

      He looked as if he didn’t want to leave. “Go,” she said, her heart flooding with gratitude. But her head still buzzed with questions. So she headed toward Carlisle Collectibles and braced herself for what she might find.

      And she prayed Cullen would make it to the Garden District safely.

      “Are you sure you’re all right?”

      Esther rubbed her temple and nodded at Ted. “Other than a couple of scratches and getting hot and dirty, I’m okay. I have a headache, but I’m fine, really.”

      Mr. Reynolds stood outside the office door. “Esther, I heard all the shooting. ’Bout scared the daylights outta me. I called the police right away.”

      “Thank you,” she told the elderly merchant. “I’m so glad you didn’t get caught in the cross fire.” Then she glanced beyond him. “Where’s Miss Helen?”

      “Oh, she went back to our shop to tell our employees what happened and caution them. She saw several strangers hanging around today.”

      Esther’s heart skipped a beat on that one. “Really? Did she talk to the police?”

      “She tried, but she didn’t have enough of a description to really help, I’m afraid. She wasn’t wearing her bifocals.”

      Esther couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that washed over her.

      Ted watched Esther with his intense brown eyes, his bi-focals and spiky dirty-blond hair intact. Ted was a worrier. He fretted about money. He paced when they didn’t get many customers. He was always rearranging things and searching out every nook and cranny to make sure they could make a good impression on their devoted, long-standing clients. But he was good at his job and he had always been devoted to Esther and her father.

      He sank down in a chair across from her after Mr. Reynolds left. “Tired of all the questions from the police?”

      Esther leaned back in the red leather armchair, her gaze moving over the uniformed officers roaming around the shop. “They’re doing their jobs.”

      The intruders had broken most of the items along the main aisle. A few vases and knickknacks, some picture frames and lamps—some expensive and some for show. They’d overturned chairs and ripped out the stuffing, and shot open some of the cabinet locks. And they’d tried without success to break the shatter-proof glass surrounding the estate jewelry. They’d wanted something they couldn’t find in that case, however.

      Cullen and that diamond, no doubt.

      Thus proving what Cullen had told her. At least they had not found the safe and her secret stash of exquisite jewels. Good thing, since the Levi-Lafitte Diamond wasn’t there, either.

      “They destroyed the office,” she said, knowing she sounded redundant since the desk drawers were open and gaping and most of her papers and books were tossed to the far walls. She wanted to get back to Cullen so she could get to the bottom of this mess. But sitting here, she couldn’t help but notice the broken frame that covered the only picture her father had kept of him with her mother. According to her father, Marilyn had been five months pregnant with Esther when the picture was taken.

      Ted pushed at his glasses and coughed. Then he picked up the shattered picture and set it back on the desk. “A break-in. Esther, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this.”

      Mr. Reynolds came back, surprising her with a bottle of water. “Here, honey. Drink

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