Chương 3
A younger couple stayed. They sat in the far consultation area whispering to each other, their hands linked beneath the table. The man had come to buy a modest engagement ring. Evelyn had seen his application for financing on Claire’s desk.
The world did not stop because an eight-carat diamond had reappeared.
A delivery driver arrived with two cartons of bottled water. A sales associate named Denise guided him through the side entrance. Someone in the workshop dropped a metal sizing cone, producing a bright, hollow clang. The heat system clicked on despite the boutique being too warm.
Vanessa rubbed the bare place on her finger.
“Would you like water?” Evelyn asked.
“No.”
Evelyn waited.
Vanessa’s attention settled on the cream bow at Evelyn’s throat. “You dress like that to work in the back?”
“I own the back.”
Vanessa’s nostrils flared.
It was petty. Evelyn knew it. She could have answered simply. She could have allowed the woman one remaining misunderstanding.
Instead she had corrected her.
“Founder and chief designer,” Claire said from beside the tablet, as if the formal title were necessary for the record.
Vanessa looked away.
Evelyn wished Claire had not said it. Not because it was untrue, but because the humiliation in Vanessa’s face made the whole exchange smaller. The ring was missing. The police were coming. A possible theft had crossed into Evelyn’s showroom. None of that improved because an arrogant woman had mistaken her for someone powerless.
Ryan ended his call.
“My attorney says we should wait for the detective,” he said.
Vanessa gave him a long look. “Your attorney.”
“He represents both of us if there’s no conflict.”
“There isn’t a conflict.”
“He said not to discuss anything until he gets here.”
“Then why are you discussing that?”
Ryan put his phone in his pocket.
Vanessa looked at the ring again. “I have an invoice.”
“Good,” he said.
“You don’t sound relieved.”
“I’ll be relieved when I see it.”
“I showed it to you.”
“You showed me a page with a price and a letterhead.”
“That is an invoice.”
“You said the certification was separate.”
“It is.”
“Where?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Vanessa.”
“My office.”
“Which office?”
She gave a small shake of her head.
Ryan’s expression did not collapse dramatically. It drained. The sternness remained around the edges, but there was nothing behind it.
“You told me it was in the safe at the house.”
“I moved it.”
“You told me the safe company had installed a separate drawer for the papers.”
“I said I wanted them to.”
“You said it was done.”
“Why does that matter right now?”
“Because I don’t know which things you say are things that happened.”
Vanessa leaned closer. “Do not do this here.”
“Where would be better?”
“My ring is sitting under plastic like evidence, and you’re interrogating me in front of strangers.”
“It is evidence.”
Her eyes sharpened. “You put it on my finger.”
“And you told me you bought it.”
“You keep saying that as if you had no part in this.”
“In what?”
“In wanting it.”
Ryan looked toward Evelyn.
That glance held a request for privacy he had not earned.
Evelyn turned to Claire. “Take the couple upstairs. Denise can finish with them.”
Claire hesitated. She did not like leaving Evelyn alone with volatile clients, even with Terrence nearby.
“I’ll be fine,” Evelyn said.
Claire guided the couple toward the stairs. The young man looked back at the ring beneath the lid. His partner tugged his sleeve, and he flushed as though he had been caught staring through a neighbor’s window.
When they were gone, the showroom seemed larger.
Vanessa lowered her voice. “I wanted a Hart ring. He wanted to be the man who gave me one. Those are not different things.”
“They are if you lied about where it came from,” Ryan said.
“I didn’t lie.”
“Then say where it came from.”
She looked at the floor, then at the illuminated necklace wall.
“A private broker.”
“Name.”
“Emmett Shaw.”
Evelyn felt a small tightening beneath her ribs.
Claire had not yet returned. Terrence was too far away to notice the change in her breathing.
Ryan did.
“You know him,” he said.
Evelyn rested two fingers on the edge of the counter. “He worked here.”
Vanessa’s gaze snapped back to her.
“When?”
“For eleven years. He left fourteen months ago.”
“Why?”
“He was terminated.”
“For what?”
“I’m not discussing a former employee’s personnel record.”
Vanessa laughed once, without humor. “Convenient.”
“Did he sell you the ring?”
“He arranged it.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“A private office downtown.”
“Did he say the ring belonged to Hart?”
“He said it had been released from the archive.”
“It had not.”
“He said founders change their minds when the price is right.”
Evelyn looked at her.
Vanessa lifted her chin again, but the gesture no longer carried superiority. It was scaffolding.
“How much did you pay?” Ryan asked.
She ignored him.
“How much?”
“Not here.”
“This is exactly where.”
“Ryan.”
“How much did you pay for the ring I supposedly bought you?”
Vanessa’s face tightened. “One point two.”
Evelyn did not react, though the number answered one question.
Ryan did. “Million?”
“What else would I mean?”
“You told me it was two point eight.”
“That was the appraisal.”
“You told me you paid two point eight.”
“I told you that was the value.”
“No. You asked me to reimburse one point six because you said you had already paid the balance.”
“I had expenses connected to the purchase.”
“What expenses cost four hundred thousand dollars?”
“It wasn’t only the ring.”
“What else was it?”
Vanessa’s eyes shifted toward Evelyn.
Ryan followed the movement.
“What else?”
“The sourcing fee. Insurance. The private appointment. There were taxes.”
May you like
Evelyn looked at the stone under the clear lid.
At a private sale, with documented provenance and the Hart name attached, the ring might have brought more than three million dollars. At auction, perhaps more if two collectors decided not to be reasonable. One point two million was not an irresistible bargain. It was an alarm.
