Dezi’s Diamond Read online

  The two men looked at her.

  “What?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders. “He’s my father. Why wouldn’t I go to lunch with him?”

  “No reason at all,” Dezi said slowly. “But it’s interesting timing on his part.”

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Because it makes me wonder if he’s heard something,” Dezi said, “or if he’s coming to check on you or if he already knows something bad has gone down.”

  “He doesn’t know anything,” she snapped. “And none of us will tell him.”

  *

  Dezi was fascinated by Diamond. Everything she did had almost a sense of abandonment to it. And yet, at the same time, he could see she was under a lot of stress. She must have been an incredibly creative soul growing up, and that probably caused trouble with her business-minded family. He could see both differences and similarities in the genetics, having already looked at the family photos. Of course there could be many reasons for that, but having a different father could be one.

  He wondered who her biological father was and if he knew about Diamond. Being the artist she was, was her birth father also artistic? Was her mother? He wanted to ask questions but didn’t want to bring up what was obviously a sore topic. They had discussed her heritage already, but this was more than just curiosity on his part.

  They worked their way through dinner, the food fabulous.

  When he finally placed his fork beside his plate and picked up his beer, he felt quite comfortable and relaxed with his first day on this job. He still had lots of questions, but, as far as he was concerned, they had narrowed it down initially to the courier company or the security company. Those were the two most likely suspect pools. What he didn’t know was if something bigger and uglier was behind it all.

  “So what will you do now?” Vince asked. “Do you follow a routine? Do you go home every day? Do you work at home? Do you go to the gym?”

  Surprised, she lowered her fork. “What’s that got to do with the investigation?”

  Dezi grinned at her. “I don’t know that it has anything to do with the investigation, but it does help us understand the target of the hacker and the forger.”

  She seemed to ponder that and then nodded. “I don’t work out regularly. I work out more as a relief when I get stressed. Living a creative lifestyle and running a business is like having both sides of my brain operate simultaneously. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t.”

  “So your stress level can get high. Do you have a gym membership?”

  “Yes, at Leonardo’s,” she said. “It’s around the corner.” She shrugged. “But I can’t say I attend all that regularly. I’ve often wondered about getting rid of that expense. I think I feel guilty because I don’t go regularly, rather than finding it a positive reinforcement for attending.”

  “A lot of people feel that way about gym memberships,” Dezi said. “We’re blessed because Levi and Ice not only have physical requirements for the job but we also have a very large, well-stocked weight room with gym equipment at the compound.”

  “Not to mention a large pool going in,” Vince said with a big grin. “As in a big pool.”

  “Ice was an Olympic swimmer, wasn’t she?”

  “I don’t know about Olympic,” Dezi said, “but definitely competitive.” He gave Diamond a few minutes to digest that, then added, “What other things do you do on a regular basis?”

  “I don’t really have any outside interests,” she said. “I tend to eat, live and breathe my work. If it isn’t jewelry making, then it’s the business side of jewelry making. And there’s never an end to that, what with staffing issues, holidays to organize, employee events, sales, marketing …” Her voice trailed off.

  “So, if somebody wanted to stalk you,” Vince asked, “how hard a job would it be? Do you live a life of routine? Are you mostly at home or work? Or do you have a busy social life, and your day-to-day calendar has you traveling around the city?” He watched the color drain from her face.

  “Please don’t go there,” she whispered. “I used to have nightmares of that when I was a child.”

  “Why is that?” Dezi asked, sharing a concerned look with Vince.

  “Because Ruby was kidnapped when we were young, held for ransom. My father paid the ransom, and she was released.”

  The men looked surprised. She gave them the faintest of smiles.

  Dezi shook his head. “You realize that’s something we needed to know about, right?”

  “It has absolutely no bearing on the current situation,” she snapped. “None of us would appreciate having that brought to light again. Besides the kidnapper died in prison. All threads were tied up in that case.”

  Both men nodded. Dezi pulled out his phone and texted Levi, asking for information on it.

  “You’re ignoring me, aren’t you?”

  “Only to a certain extent,” Dezi said. “I have to count on the fact that somebody might know about the earlier kidnapping. And somebody from back then could be doing something right now along that same line.”

  “That makes no sense,” she snapped. “It was twenty years ago. A different lifetime, basically a different era. And this is me being targeted. It’s not my father’s money involved in these forgery attempts. I don’t have the same bank account he has.”

  “But you are a member of the same family.” Dezi was more than a little perturbed to find a second major crime in the same family. He understood it was twenty years ago, and there could be no connection between the two crimes, but it said much about the wealth of the individuals involved. So Dezi wanted more information. He needed more information. Kidnapping was much worse than forgery because it involved the life or potential death of the kidnapped victim. However, it didn’t take long for criminals to slide from one direction to the other. Anything to keep the cash flowing in the right direction.

  Chapter 4

  Dezi’s questions had been more than irritating from that first night of his questioning. They had brought up nightmares that Diamond had thought she’d finally laid to rest. But apparently not. Dezi’s second night of questioning was not any better, delving deeper into her paternity matters and the earlier kidnapping of Ruby. When Diamond finally got home tonight, she sighed loudly as she walked in her front door and reset the security. From inside she pushed the curtain aside and waved at Dezi who waited outside. The two men had insisted on walking her home against her wishes. And made it clear that would be a nightly habit while they were here. And then had refused to come in. Something about checking out the neighborhood then a meeting with Levi and his crew. They did have dozens of names to investigate. It went against her nature, but she’d given them all the information they’d asked for—even about the people who came to her house on a regular basis. She hated the intrusiveness of all of this. Why involve those that weren’t involved in her business?

  She headed for the kitchen, hoping her housekeeper had left her a few meals. Normally Naomi came every three days, cleaned up and left her a couple large meals. So much so that Diamond usually had leftovers. She walked into the kitchen, put down her purse and her jacket, and stretched.

  Her house was huge, way too big for one person, but it had a lovely expansive studio and a backyard space that made her soul smile. Texas allowed for some very interesting plants because of the warm weather, and her backyard was a beautiful oasis. Hence that was where she spent a lot of her time.

  She walked to the fridge and smiled when she saw a Greek salad and some kind of casserole.

  She pulled out the casserole, scooped out a decent portion onto a plate and set it in the microwave to warm up. Meanwhile she popped the cork on a bottle of wine she had stashed in the fridge and poured herself a large glass. When her food was ready, she made her way to the large table outside beside the pool and the outdoor plants she spent a lot of time babying. She also had a gardener who came on a weekly basis. Still, it went along with her creative soul to have as much nature as sh
e could in her cement city.

  She didn’t have acreage, and that was always something she considered, but, for now, it was nice to have the pool and the plant life. She had little pathways through the trees to walk and to enjoy the birds. All kinds of birdhouses and little squirrel nests dotted her yard. She did everything she could to cultivate Mother Nature on her property.

  As she walked, letting her casserole cool on the table, she sipped her glass of wine. She could feel the stress of the day slowly dissipating. It had been difficult. Having Dezi and Vince around had made things a lot more stressful. Their questions were pointed, their innuendos obvious. She didn’t want to think of one of her staff being involved. She didn’t want to think somebody in her security company or the courier company was involved.

  And she definitely didn’t want to consider that any of her family members were involved. And just to bring up the kidnapping from twenty years ago … That hot button had pushed her too far over the edge. She didn’t know why because it was over and done with, but she’d had nightmares about that as a child. And, as an adult, the memory was always there on the horizon, waiting to take over her subconscious and ruin her night’s sleep. It didn’t matter that the case had been solved, the kidnaper caught … it still stole into her nightmares and ruined her sleep.

  She finally wandered back toward the patio table and her dinner and sat down.

  The food was deliciously fresh. Diamond made good money, and she paid out good money for others to look after her. It was kind of sad in a way. She’d never been one who wanted to be in the kitchen. She had a gourmet kitchen available, but all her creativity went into her work, and, when she came home, she was completely drained and just wanted to have meals ready.

  She imagined families all over the world felt the same way. She was totally blessed to have the money to do what she wanted to do. And she’d been raised in a similar way, so, to her, this was normal, natural. Not that that was an excuse, but it was a hell of an answer for her.

  It had also been a problem in her two previous relationships. Her former boyfriends had really loved the rich and wealthy lifestyle. They’d wanted her to have a full-time housekeeper instead of somebody who came in three times a week. They wanted to have somebody serve them dinner, taking Diamond up to a level she had no intention of going.

  That might be for the megarich, but she didn’t consider herself even close to that and didn’t have any aspirations to become that either. She wanted her privacy. She wanted peace. She wanted that sanctuary to come home to. Not people waiting to do her bidding.

  Sometimes she sat outside and just sketched new pieces that slipped into her mind and wouldn’t leave her alone. Her art was like that. She woke up in the middle of the night with designs that excited her and made her want to get up and get to work.

  She did have a studio here where she worked when she couldn’t be at her office. Because to have anything other than that was a death knell for an artist. Even writers or painters who worked in studios had a place to pour out their creative ideas at home. When you were an artist, you were an artist through and through. It wasn’t a nine-to-five job. One couldn’t just turn it off and on.

  She’d dished up too much food. “Your eyes were bigger than your stomach.” She laid down her knife and fork, took a sip of her wine and wandered to the pool. She slipped off her sandals and sat on the edge, letting her feet waft back and forth in the water, the waves lapping against the pool edge.

  She should have turned the music on first. She shrugged. Silence was just as golden. She stretched back until she was lying on the hard cement surface with the sun shining down on top of her. She opened the top few buttons of her dress and stretched until her body eased and relaxed. Again she’d come home so hungry because she hadn’t had much lunch. Last night she had eaten at the Italian restaurant, and that had held her through breakfast. She’d planned on eating lunch, but there hadn’t been much time.

  Now here she was, having survived a second day with the men around, although they’d been gone most of the morning. They had popped in at noon with another zillion questions. They had asked if she would be available tonight, which worried her, but she had answered, Yes, if necessary. Now she hoped there was no sign of them. The last thing she wanted was to have this idyllic scene destroyed with talk of forgeries and betrayal and kidnappings and hackings.

  As soon as that thought crossed her mind, her doorbell rang. She groaned, knowing instinctively who it was. She wandered around the sidewalk to the front yard. And, sure enough, it was Dezi and Vince. She called to them. They both turned, and she said, “Come on around back. Otherwise I’ll have to go through the house, and I’ve got wet feet.”

  They followed her to the backyard.

  She could hear Dezi’s sigh of happiness as he surveyed her sanctuary. She turned to look at him, seeing the serenity already settling into his soul. She nodded. “And that’s why I have this.”

  He looked at her, his gaze full of understanding. “You’re blessed.”

  She tilted her head. “I am. At least I know it.”

  He smiled. “Do you mind if I wander?”

  She wafted her hand in the direction of the pathways. “Go for it.” She headed back to the table and picked up her wine.

  Vince studied the pool and the tile pattern on the inside. “It’s one of your designs, isn’t it?”

  She looked at him in surprise and smiled. “Yes, absolutely. But you’re the only one who has ever noticed.”

  He chuckled. “Dezi noticed. We looked at your place on Google Maps first. He got close enough to see a blurred image of the tile pattern. And he recognized it immediately. Only as I stand here—now with the knowledge that it is—can I see it.”

  She filed away that information. “I had no idea Google Images were that good.”

  “They can be very good. We also have access to a lot of satellite imagery. What we were considering was whether the designs could have been taken from your home.”

  Her shoulders hunched as she thought about somebody invading her personal space. “It’s possible,” she said faintly. “I often work from home, and my laptop does connect to my office servers.”

  He gazed at her with narrowed eyes, as if not liking her answer. “Who else is here?”

  “My housekeeper comes two to three times a week, and my gardener comes as needed, but usually once or twice a week as well.” She rattled off their names.

  Dezi wrote them down to add to his ever-growing list. “Do you live alone?”

  She nodded.

  “Same security company here as you have at your office building?”

  She winced. “Yes.”

  “We’re still running down all the names of everybody who works there as well.”

  “That is just a terrible thought.”

  “They have to be considered since you have the exact same security system at work and at home.”

  She nodded. “They put both in. I have a safe here as well, the same type of vault as the one at work.”

  “You have a walk-in vault at work. What size is yours here?” Vince asked.

  She gave him a flat stare. “About the same, a little smaller.”

  Surprise lit the depths of his gaze.

  “Why would you need one that large?” Dezi asked from behind her.

  She turned to see him standing at the edge of the pathway, having wandered all around the perimeter of the backyard. “Because sometimes I work here,” she said, “and sometimes I have to take in shipments of jewels and sort them. Sometimes sorting them takes me a long time, and I work from home when I do that.” Both men nodded as if it made sense, but she could also see the questions in their faces. “You guys don’t like that, do you?”

  “It’s fine,” Dezi said, “as long as you’re set up properly and securely. But, if you’re not, then it’s deadly. And it leaves weak links for anybody to access.”

  “Nobody is supposed to have access but me,” she said with spirit. “Otherwise
the security company isn’t doing their job.”

  “True enough. But the fact is, a lot of security companies have loopholes in their systems that leave them open for hackers. Most people think to break into a security system all you need to do is cut some wires, things like that,” Dezi said, “but hackers can get into security companies’ software and change codes, then change them back again. So you’ll never know unless you have a video feed or you check the record of various codes or accounts.”

  “So you’re saying it’s possible for somebody—like a hacker—to change the security code, enter, leave, reset the security code, and yet, someone else could change the same codes from the main office of the security company, like one of their own employees?”

  “That’s definitely possible since the main office would have control of your particular system. It would be a lot easier to hack if it was one of the older security companies because it’s easier to trace them.”

  She thought about that. “My vaults are covered by a different security system. That was my father’s doing. He insisted on a secondary security system for the vaults.”

  The men nodded. Dezi asked, “Are you locking up when you work from home?”

  She winced. “My work in progress is supposed to be in the vault overnight. But that doesn’t mean they are. Sometimes I have them in my desk, though my desk is locked. Sometimes I keep them in my personal safe in the bedroom.” She shrugged. “There’s never really been a security issue.”

  “And how about now?” Dezi’s voice was hard. “As you think about it now, knowing someone is forging your work, has hacked into your computer network, do you consider your haphazard system a risk? Do you consider it a security risk?”

  She firmed her lips and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  *

  Dezi hated to be a hard-ass, but she had millions of dollars of raw jewels, finished jewelry and design sketches worth even more money on the black market. Her name was big enough that people were interested in anything she produced. So forgeries would always be a problem. The fact that she was as talented as she was, was one of the few things stopping forgers from being able to copy her work. But it would take a true craftsman to spot the differences between the fakes and the real ones this time. “Did you get the necklace back with the sand damage?”