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glanced out into the shop, watching as uniformed officers and plainclothes detectives went about their work and instructed the crime scene investigators. She’d gone round and round with the first officer on the scene to get Ted

      and Mr. Reynolds in the barricaded front door. They couldn’t straighten things up until the crime scene people had dusted everything for prints and extracted a few bullets. Standard procedure, according to the dour officer in charge. But there wasn’t much hope of finding anything that would lead them to the men who’d done this, also according to that same officer.

      Like Miss Helen, Esther hadn’t been able to give very much of a description, either. She might have to go into the station and look through mug shots. Not that that would help. Big and burly was the only way to describe those two. If they’d truly followed Cullen across the universe, they could be international criminals. And he might be, too, for that matter. But she had no idea how to explain that to the nice officers and detectives. They’d laugh if she told them about a giant ancient chocolate diamond, too.

      Her father would be so disappointed in her right now. Withholding information from the police went against Carlisle standards.

      “So you didn’t get a good look?” Mr. Reynolds asked. He was obviously afraid the thugs would come back to finish the job. Or maybe rob him next time.

      “I don’t remember details,” she said.

      Ted patted her hand. “Maybe you’ll remember something later.”

      “I saw two big men dressed in black and carrying guns. But I took off before they got up close. I was running for my life so I didn’t stop to get a picture.”

      “I’m sorry, Esther.” Ted plopped down on a stool near her feet, then looked up at her with those puppy-dog brown eyes. “I should have been here to protect you.”

      She almost laughed, hysterically. Ted was about as puny as they came. He was a sweetheart and a devoted employee, but he had severe allergies and he was terrified of everything from spiders to shoplifters. She probably would have wound up protecting him.

      “No, I’m glad you weren’t here,” she said, meaning it. “I managed to get away and that’s the important thing.”

      Ted didn’t seem convinced. “I’ll go out and see if I can help with anything.” He turned to Mr. Reynolds. “Thanks for calling 911.”

      Esther nodded. “Yes, thank you so much. I panicked. By the time I was safe, the sirens were already wailing.”

      One of the officers approached her after Ted went out into the shop. “So you were closing up for the day, right?”

      “Yes,” she said, standing to face him. “I had one late customer who wanted to look at some jewelry, but he didn’t find what he was looking for.”

      That was the truth. But she couldn’t allow for any more information. Or should she give the police Cullen’s name and description and be done with it?

      Her head shouted yes, but her heart screamed no.

      “Did you know this customer? Is he a regular?”

      “No. He was traveling through.”

      The officer looked skeptical. “He could have been a front—a distraction.”

      Esther thought about that, but why would Cullen need to distract her? He had a gun and so did those men. They’d fired at Cullen. Had that all been a show for her? To convince her to listen to him and trust him?

      “I don’t know,” she said, being honest on that account at least.

      “Did you find anything missing from the jewel cabinets?” she asked the officer instead.

      “Come see for yourself,” the young officer replied. “Looks like they tried to shoot the lock, but the glass held. Must be some powerful glass.”

      “We have some very rare, one-of-a-kind jewels,” she replied, motioning to Ted and hoping he’d go into the storage room and check the vault behind the secret wall her father had built years ago. She discreetly pointed to the storage room door.

      Ted dashed away while she talked to the police. Esther studied the three main jewel cases, each ring and brooch, each elegant necklace and sparkling bracelet with matching earrings etched in her brain. “Nothing’s missing that I can tell.”

      The officers nodded, wrote in their little notebooks, then suggested she padlock the doors for the night.

      Ted came back up the aisle and helped her. “Safe is intact,” he said under his breath.

      One of the officers approached them. “You can call the alarm company first thing tomorrow, but for now you need to do something to protect your property.”

      “We can use the hurricane shutters,” Ted suggested. “You know, we’ll put up that plywood we used when the last big one came through, on the inside of the door. Then if we tug the shutters closed and lock them. I can sleep down in the showroom.”

      “No,” Esther said, startling not only Ted but a nearby officer. “I don’t think you should stay here tonight.”

      “You shouldn’t stay here alone,” Mr. Reynolds said from his spot near the broken doors. He hovered, worry on his aged face. “Wanna come over to our apartment?”

      Esther would have, under any other circumstances. The couple attended her church and treated her like their own daughter. She could use that kind of comfort tonight. “Thanks, but no. I’m going home. I’m exhausted.”

      Esther had to get rid of the police and Ted before she could meet up with Cullen. She had to find out the whole story about this mess.

      “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll stay at my own apartment tonight. Surely they won’t go there.”

      “Can you call a friend?” the officer suggested.

      Ted bobbed his head. “One of your church friends maybe.”

      She almost laughed at the irony of that. Cullen probably hadn’t graced a church door his whole life. But her friend and absent landlord, Lara, was a devout churchgoer. She’d be safe in her studio at Lara’s private compound. Only, Lara wasn’t in the States right now. But what about Cullen Murphy? Would she be safe with him?

      “I’ll be okay at my place.” She waited for the police to finish up, then turned to Ted. “Now we’ll need the hammer, some nails and that plywood. And you know I’ll need you to help me pull the storm shutters down. I always have trouble with that.”

      Esther had learned years ago that keeping Ted busy was the best thing for her sanity and his. He hurried to his tasks.

      “I’ll help,” Mr. Reynolds said, hobbling to catch up with Ted, his red bow tie askew.

      “Do you know of anyone who’s angry with you? Or out to do you in?” the officer in charge asked, his thick New Orleans accent sliding over the quiet office.

      “No, sir.”

      “Have you ever seen the two men who came in here before today?”

      “No, sir. Never.”

      He scowled, doubt clearly written all over his face. “Think hard. You might know them and not realize it.”

      Why did police officers always seem so jaded and cynical?

      Maybe because, here in this city, they saw pretty much everything?

      “I can assure you, I don’t know them.”

      “If you remember anything else, let us know,” the officer said. Then he and his men finished up their business.

      Two hours later, Esther felt guilt tickling at her conscience when she finally convinced Mr. Reynolds to go home and told Ted they’d done all they could for now. They’d cleared up some of the debris and secured the doors and rechecked the

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