An Angel In Stone. Peggy Nicholson

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      “Because…” Lia opened the case, then covered a portion of its inner side with her thumb. “You see?”

      Cade squinted down at the case. “It’s a…Is that a map?”

      “Yessss!” She whisked the watch from under his nose. “You like to buy?”

      “May I see it?” Raine asked, careful to quell her eagerness.

      Lia shrugged, checked again that her thumb blocked part of the inner case, then showed it to Raine.

      Below the girl’s long red thumbnail, lines had been scratched into polished gold. Raine made out a shape that looked like a lopsided butterfly, then angled below that, a range of upside down Vs—denoting mountains? “Wait!” she cried as Lia snapped the lid shut.

      “You want to see the whole thing, then you must buy. How much you give me?”

      For a map that possibly showed the way to where the tooth had been found? Where perhaps the rest of the dinosaur still waited?

      Possibly.

      But at a minimum, once she learned the name of the soldier, Trey with his connections could find out the man’s war. That might give Raine a starting point if it came to a search. “I’ll give you five hundred dollars for it.”

      “It’s a nice watch,” Cade said carelessly. “I could go a thousand.”

      Raine shrugged. “I suppose I could go two.”

      “Three,” Cade snapped.

      Lia laughed softly, and with that malicious little sound, both bidders paused, eyeing each other. The thought hung in the air between them. Are we being hustled?

      Still, the tooth was no scam. “Three thousand-five,” Raine said at last.

      “Five thousand.”

      As she glared at Cade, Raine brushed a skein of windblown hair back from her eyes. How much money do you have, wise guy? And where does it come from? Did he have a stopping point—or was he a bottomless pocket? “Six thousand.” This was idiotic. The map, if map it really was, could lead to anything, not necessarily to ancient bones. It might be a sentimental picture of the soldier’s hometown. “You will take a check, right?” Not that she’d brought one. She carried a folded fifty for emergencies, and that was that.

      “No!” Lia shook her sooty hair till it fanned around her face. “No way, Jose! Cash or no deal!”

      Cade threw back his head and laughed. “And I take it you don’t accept MasterCard?”

      “Absolutely not.” Lia failed to see the joke.

      “Then I’m out of the running for tonight,” Raine admitted. “Let’s talk about a price tomorrow at three.”

      “And whatever she offers? I’ll give you even more at dinner,” Cade assured the girl.

      Lia sniffed as she picked up her box. “The soldier’s family is most desperate to buy this. They give me ten thousand, cash. You must do better than that. So goodbye, and I call you tomorrow.” Chin high, she marched off toward the Manhattan shore.

      Elbows brushing, they watched her go, then glanced ruefully at each other. “We’re gonna be pretty obvious, if we both follow her,” noted Cade. “I don’t suppose you’d let me—”

      “Jose?” Raine showed her teeth. “No way at all.”

      “Then if that’s the way it’s gotta be, why don’t we—”

      But his proposal was cut short by the puttering sound of a two-stroke engine. An old Vespa motorscooter purred out of the shadows below the Manhattan tower. Stopping beside Lia, the rider wheeled it smartly around. “Why, the crafty minx!” Cade swore as she settled onto its pillion. With a taunting wave, she rolled off toward the city.

      “Other plans,” Raine echoed, looking after her. A woman of ambition and forethought. It wouldn’t pay to underestimate the kid.

      “Well, meantime…” Cade swung to face her. “It’s even later. Could I drive you home?”

      As second choice to little Lia?

      His amber eyes had darkened. When they rose from her lips, they promised any sort of ride she might want. To any destination she desired. A tongue of summer lightning licked up her spine; still Raine shook her head. “No, thanks.”

      Mixing pleasure with business was risky. But mixing pleasure with a feud, when only one of them knew the terms or limits of the grudge? That might prove fatal. What did he have against the Ashaways?

      “Pity. But in that case—” Cade shrugged out of his jacket, and swooped it around her bare shoulders.

      His body heat settled deliciously upon her. The soft wool smelled of active, clean male, with a hint of his cologne. Raine started to wriggle free of the jacket, but he’d gripped both lapels. Slip out of it and she’d step straight into his arms. She stiffened for a moment—then shrugged. There was no sense fighting, when it felt so good. The weight of his knuckles resting on her collarbones was seductive as a drug. “I…don’t know where to return it.”

      “No problem. You’ll be seeing me around.”

      But is that a promise—or a threat? she wondered, walking west without a glance behind. And which would be harder to handle?

      Whatever. She’d always choose interesting, over safe.

      Right now, nothing interested her more in the world than a T. rex made of fire opal. As she passed into the tower’s shadow, Raine slipped her fisted hand into a pocket of Cade’s jacket—she let go a wad of crumpled newspaper.

      Chapter 7

      W hen they reached their building, Lia hopped off the back of the Vespa. Leaning against the front door to hold it open, she tapped her foot with impatience while Ravi wrestled his motorbike up the steep steps from the sidewalk. If he didn’t chain it in the rear of the dirty hallway, it would be stolen by morning.

      Watching her roommate grunt and groan and swear at the machine, she thought of Kincade, so smooth and good smelling. Lia had to giggle at the difference. Such a man would own a car, not a beat-up old motorbike. He’d drive a Jaguar, and he’d have a garage in which to park it. Maybe he even had a chauffeur!

      When she was rich, she would have a chauffeur—a blond one in a blue uniform, who would carry her shopping bags and open doors for her. Soon, yes! She bent to kiss the box she held, then forgot about helping Ravi. She almost danced up to their apartment.

      Six flights of badly lit stairs that smelled of cat piss and cabbage dampened her gaity, but hardened her resolve. The sooner she had money, the sooner she could move away from this dump and the losers who lived here.

      Placing her box on the shelf above her desk, she took the letter from its top drawer. She paced the room, her lips shaping the words as she reread them.

      Like I explained when you phoned me last week, that pocket watch has got to belong СКАЧАТЬ