String of Tears, page 22
“So, what the hell’s going on?”
“What’s going on is that someone is trying to make me into the image of these other women, likely so he can add me to his collection.”
Chapter 19
After the phone call with Grant, Jewel asked Hurricane if she could use his laptop for a bit, then buried herself in work. When her email refreshed, she found a message from the client regarding the necklace repair. She looked over at Hurricane. “The guy who couriered over the pearl necklace is asking when he can get it back.”
He nodded. “Anytime.”
“That’s not reassuring,” she whispered. “So both the necklace and the bracelet? He can’t have them back, right? Or can he?”
“Nope, he can’t, but we sure need to talk to him.”
“What do I say to him?”
“Just tell him that you need to show him some damage on the necklace to determine if he wants you to try to fix it or not.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“I’m not sure I want you to touch it at all,” he added, with even more force. “However, that doesn’t change the fact that we need to talk to him.” She hesitated, and he just stared at her steadily.
“Fine.” She quickly sent an email message back, saying that she’d like to show him some of the damage in the necklace and to explain her recommendations for repair. His immediate response was that he didn’t care. He just wanted it fixed.
She winced at that, looked over at Hurricane, and asked, “Now what?”
“Tell him to come pick it up,” he stated. “We need to see him. I’ll let Grant know.”
“Great,” she whispered. She crafted what she hoped was a genial customer service email, telling him it would be ready when he came to pick it up. Instead he sent a response right back, saying he’d send a courier. She winced at that. “I don’t know what you want me to do now, but he doesn’t want to come in person.”
“Of course not.” Hurricane frowned, sharing a look with her.
“I don’t have any right to keep it, except for the fact that it’s dangerous.”
“It is dangerous,” he confirmed. “Hang on a second while I call Grant again.” He got up and headed off a few steps.
She wasn’t sure what to say to this client, yet obviously wanted to meet him and to see if he had any idea what was going on and to see if he matched her memory of some guy at her loft, asking about a necklace. Yet she had no right to hold the necklace. So, if he asked for it, she pretty well had to return it, although she was almost positive that Hurricane wouldn’t let that happen. And yet how could he not? Was there any way that they could hold it?
When he came back, he smiled and said, “Grant will track it.”
“Once the necklace leaves, it won’t be easy to do anything with it.”
Hurricane nodded. “A part of me would be quite happy if it leaves, especially if it frees you up.”
She frowned at that. “But will it? Even the thought of it leaving is making me nervous.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Doesn’t matter whether it is or not.”
“I get that,” she replied defensively. “I get that being connected is not a good thing, but I’m not sure that it’ll be within our power to get rid of it.”
“I know. It’ll be one of those things that we get a chance to test, whether we like it or not,” he admitted. She frowned at him. He still smiled. “Grant says to pack up the jewelry box but not the necklace itself.”
“So then what? I’ll just keep it?” she asked, her eyebrows going up. “That won’t be very good for my business.”
“Do you want to send it off?”
“No,” she stated emphatically. “I don’t.”
“Do you have another suggestion?”
“No, that’s what you’re supposed to come up with.”
He chuckled. “We can’t let it go without finding out who your client is and what his connection to that necklace is. If it’s stolen, we need to know where it was stolen from. And, just so you know, that was my suggestion.” He winked at her.
“My customer’s not likely to know. He’s probably a private collector,” she murmured, “maybe not too interested in an accurate provenance on a piece.”
“We still need to find out.”
“Got it. So, what do you want me to do?” she asked.
“You’ll pack up the empty box and send it off, and we’ll track where it’s going.”
“He gave me a P.O. box address.”
“Of course he did. What is it?”
She quickly gave it to him. He nodded and passed the info to Grant. Just a moment later Hurricane read an incoming text. “Grant says it’s registered to an export company.”
“Which means nothing,” she murmured.
“Exactly, he’s doing a rundown on that company right now.”
“I don’t want to let the necklace go,” she murmured, staring at the wall safe again, beginning to get angry.
“Why the anger?” he asked. “It’s coming off you in waves.”
“Because it doesn’t belong to anybody else,” she stated, staring off. “It belongs to me.”
He whistled suddenly. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t even go there.”
She focused on Hurricane now. “I don’t think I have a choice. If I hand it over, something bad will happen.”
He sucked in his breath. “To you?”
She nodded slowly. “I think so.”
“Yeah, you think so, huh? In that case we’re definitely not handing it over, not until we figure out what’s going on and until we track down this guy who supposedly owns both these pearl pieces. Grant will track the package and have the courier picked up for questioning. Meanwhile this customer of yours hopefully will be the one to come and collect the package. If it isn’t him, it’ll have to be somebody he hires.”
“You think he’ll come?”
“Somebody will. We can count on that.”
“Says you,” she murmured. She quickly packed up the empty necklace box, adding a few glass beads she had for weight. When the courier came to the door, she handed off the package, already preaddressed. He took it, smiled, and left. She didn’t think the courier had anything to do with this, but what did she know.
At that, Hurricane looked over at her. “Stay here.”
Giving her that one simple instruction, he was gone out the door, before she could ask him anything else.
*
Hurricane raced from the building, hopped into his truck, and followed behind the courier at a safe distance. With the panic rising within him and that weird sense of disconnect from her, it felt wrong to be following the courier. He quickly picked up his phone and called her. “Stay inside and lock the door,” he snapped, as soon as she answered.
With that, he disconnected the call and quickly punched in Grant’s number.
Grant greeted Hurricane with an update. “We’re already at the courier depot.”
Hurricane replied, “I didn’t even know you were in town.”
“I’m not, but I have somebody there,” he explained. “So you won’t know who they are, although they have some idea of who you are. Regardless, they’re waiting for the courier.”
“I’m on his tail, so we should be there in a few minutes.”
“Good enough,” Grant replied. “We’ll connect as soon as it’s been handed over.” And, with that, Grant disconnected the call.
Tossing the phone down on the seat beside him, Hurricane drove carefully through traffic, until he got to the courier depot. He hopped out, watching as the courier drove around to the back. He walked around to the rear of the building to keep an eye on what was happening, but the parcels were being unloaded into the back of the store. He frowned at that because, from here, until the person picked it up, he had no way of knowing who would appear for this particular package. He looked around, but the place was mostly empty.
One person sat in a vehicle off to the side, Hurricane immediately tagged as one of Grant’s associates but couldn’t be sure. They had no idea who was involved in this, and it would not be smart to knock off anybody at this point.
He texted Grant. I’m here. Parcel’s gone into the building.
We have somebody inside. Just hold on.
Hurricane waited but, of course, had no way to know if the supposed owner would come and pick this up right now or later. He assumed it would be a fast shipment, but it also didn’t mean it wouldn’t be sent right back out again for another delivery. He pondered that. Can you access the online tracking for it?
We do have a tracking number for it. So far it’s not registered beyond being returned to the courier station.
Where is it going from here?
It says it’s being held for pickup, Grant sent back.
Good, I’ll stay then.
Are you sure you want to do that?
Yes, I don’t want to see that disappear anywhere.
“We’re on it, you know,” Grant stated, calling him now. “Look. I don’t have your woo-woo powers, but are you really okay with leaving her alone right now?”
At that, he swore. “No, I’m not. It’s like an itch in the back of my mind.”
“Then get back there,” Grant stated. “We’ll track this. For the moment it’ll just sit here or be held at the counter for a pickup, so nothing you can do until somebody comes to get it. They’ve already been alerted that we are interested in who is picking this up, so again leave it to us.”
And, with that, Hurricane had to be satisfied. He hopped into his vehicle and picked up his phone yet again and called Jewel. When she didn’t answer, he swore and started the engine and quickly drove back to her loft again. He kept trying her all the way there.
He broke the speed limits as he raced to her. He could only hope that she had fallen asleep on the couch and was ignoring her phone. That was the best answer. Grim, he pulled up in front of the loft building, raced up the front steps to her place, and let himself in. As he walked into the living room, his steps swift and hard, his gaze searched frantically but found no sign of her on the couch. No sign of her anywhere. As he stood in the middle of the room and slowly turned around, he called out, “Jewel, where are you?”
He bolted up the stairs to the bedroom, but again no sign of her. He opened the bathroom and again nothing. On the way down he stopped because the drywall to the safe had been disturbed. He quickly plucked it free to find the safe not even closed, which was why the drywall had been at an angle. And he didn’t have to look very hard to realize that both the necklace and the bracelet were gone.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he cried out. He pulled out his phone and called Grant. “She’s gone. So are the necklace and the bracelet.”
Silence. “What are you thinking?” Grant asked cautiously. “Because, if it were me, I’d be thinking she stole everything.”
Hurricane plunked down onto the bottom step and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That makes no sense,” he cried out.
“Maybe not, but, at this point in time, obviously something’s going on.”
“Yeah, something. Any news there yet?”
“Nothing, but then we haven’t had very much time yet,” he noted.
“No, I know. I’ve just gotten to her loft. That word of warning you gave me sent me here as fast as I could, and I still missed it.”
“Missed it, missed her, missed what?”
“I don’t know,” he cried out. “I just don’t know. I’ll call Stefan.” And, with that, he hung up on Grant and called Stefan. His wife answered. “Is Stefan there?” he asked, with a note of urgency.
“He’s been painting all morning. Let me see. I gather it’s urgent?”
“Yeah, isn’t it always?”
“When you call, it tends to be,” she noted, with a chuckle, “but then so much of our life here is like that—hurricanes and then the calm.”
“This very much feels like the calm before the storm,” he stated, “but I’m not sure we’ll ever get through it at the rate it’s going.”
“That bad, huh? Here he is.”
There were muffled voices, and then Stefan came on, his voice tired. “Hey, I’ve been working in the studio all morning.”
“She’s gone,” he admitted baldly.
A shocked silence came on the other end. “When?”
“In the last forty minutes.”
“How?”
“I have no idea.” Hurricane quickly relayed what had happened and that Grant’s people were standing by where the parcel had been taken.
“But it was a fake in the parcel, correct?”
“Yes, just the necklace case, not actually the pearls.”
“And she knew that?”
His heart sinking, and feeling like a fool, he murmured, “Yes, and I know you’ll say that she stole it, but—”
“But what?” he asked curiously. No judgment was in his voice, just an honest need to understand where Hurricane was coming from.
“I don’t feel like this is something she would have done.”
“How well do you know her?”
“Not well enough,” he bit off.
“Does she have a vehicle?”
He froze. “Yeah, we tracked that down. It was here all along. Shit, I should have checked that first. I’m checking that now.”
He walked to her garage unit, where she kept her car. “It’s not here.”
“Do you think the client would have contacted her privately? Would he have taken her at gunpoint?”
“I suppose,” Hurricane replied, “but wouldn’t he just take the jewels and not her? And how would he know they’re still here? I’m worried.”
“He’s taken her away in order to either imprison her or to just destroy any threat to his anonymity.”
“If we’re following the theory that she’s not involved in this, then that makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”
Stefan asked, “Give me a few minutes. I’ll call you back.” And, with that, he disconnected.
*
Stefan dropped gracefully into a cross-legged position, his back against the front hallway wall. He opened up his senses wide, wider than he would have liked to, but he was too tired after the art session not to. He could sense Maddy’s surprise jolting him.
Whenever he went into this mode, it sent an alert to her. She poked her head into the energy, but he gave her a gentle wave, signifying he was okay. However, instead of disappearing, she sat in the background and gently funneled energy in his direction. He smiled because there was a genuine love here that went way past humanity. They were bonded in so many ways. Their own skills, needs, and desires to help the world around them had bonded them in a wonderful friendship. He sent images of what had gone on to her. Rather than waste the energy, he immediately headed out of his house into the ethers, looking for Jewel.
He’d already caught her signature from much earlier, and, when she’d phoned him, there had been already an awareness in her voice, as if she was well versed in this art of energy work. So had she been hiding this skill the whole time or had she ended up with some psychic attack that had blinded her?
Maddy’s voice whispered behind him, Careful. This isn’t what it seems.
He took that under consideration but had no choice but to follow through. If for no other reason than the fact that Hurricane was sending him frantic energy, the waves pounding against him in such a way that it was all Stefan could do to buffer them back, so that he could function.
Maddy immediately said, I’ll take care of that.
She quickly put up what was essentially cotton batting in an energy form, to stop Hurricane’s incredibly powerful waves from reaching out and shaking Stefan. She lined the energy with love, sending waves of calm energy back to Hurricane, to get him to ease the storm inside him.
Stefan immediately headed out into the ethers, tracking Jewel’s signature. It didn’t take long, but where and how he found her was something he’d never seen before. He slowly brought himself out of his trance, picked up the phone, and called Grant. “I know where she is,” he began, his voice exhausted. “But you won’t believe it. I’ll call Hurricane right now.” He disconnected.
Stefan called Hurricane. “Go to this address. She’s there. I’m sending an ambulance too.” And he hung up without saying anything more.
Chapter 20
Jewel opened her eyes and stared, her gaze blurry, her body exhausted, as if she had run an ultramarathon and had pushed herself to the absolute end of her limits but had succeeded in some fight. She lay here, shivering against the cold.
A blanket was pulled up over her, and she murmured something, turning her head into the pillow. She tried to raise her eyelids, but they kept closing again. A hand reached out and grasped her fingers. She smiled, not knowing how she knew but knowing who it was. “Hurricane,” she murmured.
“Yes,” he answered, his voice thick. “Sit tight.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“That’s something you’ll have to tell me,” he said, “but not right now. We’re getting you checked over first.”
There were sounds, mechanical sounds, movements, and the fresh air that had surrounded her now included antiseptic smells and an odd sensation. Then a door slammed. She tried to open her eyes again, but it hurt. “My eyes,” she whispered.
“Keep them closed,” he ordered. “Stay calm and stay quiet. If you’ve got any energy to heal with, then use it.”
Such an odd thing for him to say. She curled up into the blanket and just rested. Her body was being jostled from side to side, and it was all so very weird. She wanted to ask him more questions, but it was hard, beyond hard; she was just so tired. She drifted in and out of consciousness, and then suddenly, amid bright lights, loud noises, she was being rushed somewhere.
She felt her body starting to argue with it all. A voice in her head kept saying, Fight, fight, please dammit, fight. Then out of the blue, suddenly her chest hurt, as shockwaves pounded against her ribs, and she cried out. But she couldn’t hear her voice; it was just in her head. In the distance, somewhere far away—and yet close enough that she could register the sounds—she heard somebody call out.
