Free Blood Rubies by Jane K. Cleland

occur to her to question his judgment. Or she’s gullible. Or she’s wildly in love and can see no wrong in him.” I shrugged. “There’s a chance that she’s as sneaky-bad as he was. I met her for an even shorter time than him.”
    Ellis riffed a little tap-tap-tap on the tabletop, thinking. “What do you know about Peter? Was that performance typical?”
    â€œFrom what little I’ve seen, maybe. When he showed up out of the blue, Heather fled.”
    â€œDoes she have an order of protection against him? Has she ever pressed charges? Anything like that?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œWhat can you tell about the snow globe, the one that might have been broken?”
    I explained about Imperial Fabergé eggs and their surprises, Ana’s family’s narrative about how they acquired the egg, and the complexity in calculating value.
    â€œThe last appraiser attached Polaroids to his write-up,” I said. “They’ve faded some, but there’s sufficient detail to be able to identify the design. Diamonds and rubies and emeralds, oh my.”
    He soft-whistled. “No wonder it’s worth so much money.” He lowered his eyes and tapped the table with his index fingers as if he were hunt-and-pecking on an old-fashioned typewriter, then looked up at me. “What else should I ask you?”
    I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
    Ellis thanked me and clicked off the recorders. “I’ll be in touch.”
    The lobby was empty. Cathy was back at her computer. Two different patrolmen sat nearby. One was listening to someone on the phone, taking notes; the other one was reading from a legal pad.
    Outside, wind-driven rain was blowing sideways. I ran for my car and was soaked by the time I got inside. I sat and scanned my messages, waiting for the heat to come up and take the bite off the raw chill. Wes had called again, and texted. Ty had called, too, telling me he was sorry to hear about Jason and that he was stuck in a situation in Maine and wouldn’t be home until late. All in all, it was a bad night.

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
    The storm continued unabated, causing flash floods on low-lying roads and snapping off tree limbs. The twigs and branches that scraped against the windows kept jerking me awake. After endless hours of wearisome tossing and rolling and fretting about Ty, I finally got up and went downstairs. I made myself a pot of tea and curled up on the couch under a cable-knit afghan to read my current book, Rex Stout’s Gambit. I was on my second cup of the tea, happily lost in the story, when the rain stopped. I looked at the mantel clock. It was three minutes after four, hours before dawn.
    I walked to the window and pulled aside the drapes. A sliver of moon peeked through the clouds, stippling the lawn and street. I opened the window and breathed in the fresh, clean air. It was a beautiful night, warmer than when I’d come home. It gave me hope that my day would be better, too. Ty pulled into the driveway. Perfect timing, I thought.
    I opened the front door and waved. He smiled.
    â€œWhy aren’t you asleep?” he asked me as he climbed onto the porch.
    â€œThe storm. Are you okay?”
    â€œYeah … just a long day.”
    â€œTell me about it—on the other hand, don’t. Let’s talk tomorrow. I mean later. I need to go to sleep, and you must be ready to collapse.”
    â€œClose.” He kissed me, a soft one, then stretched, reaching for the ceiling. “I need to be out of here by seven. One meeting in Boston, then I’m heading back to my place for a long nap.”
    â€œI may join you. Have you eaten?”
    â€œIf you can call cold pizza eating. I’m too tired to tell if I’m hungry. I’ll grab something before I leave. What I’m not skipping, though, is a shower.”
    Ty went for his shower, and I crawled back in bed. I was asleep within seconds,