Free Cold Case Cop by Mary Burton Page B

his shoulders. “Yes, she was a beauty.” His body language suggested Kit was also difficult. “She insisted on the best.”
    Tara leaned forward. “I was at the Founders’ Yacht Club yesterday and was speaking with Regina Albright. By the way, when I mentioned I was coming here, she spoke highly of your work.”
    He beamed. “Excellent.”
    “We were talking about what a waste it was to lose so many lovely diamonds. Did those gems ever surface?”
    He leaned toward her. “No. But I will tell you Mr. Landover insisted the family diamonds be engraved with a laser. Not visible to the naked eye, mind you, but under a high-powered microscope, the three largest diamonds have the letter L on them.”
    “So if anyone tried to sell the diamonds…” she let the statement trail.
    “They’d have to be authenticated, and the mark would be discovered. The police department put out a notice to all jewelers that the gems were connected to a murder.”
    “But what if it were sold to a private collector?”
    “Few jewelers broker gems that large. In general we are a small community, and word gets around.”
    “But you know of such jewelers?”
    “Of course.”
    The front doorbell buzzed and Tara grabbed her purse. No doubt the real Mrs. Freedman had arrived.
    Mr. Robinson looked at the monitor behind his desk. He frowned. “Now that’s unusual.”
    She rose, glancing around to see if there was a back door. There wasn’t.
    He buzzed the door open. “Sorry for this interruption, Mrs. Freedman.”
    Damn. “No trouble at all.”
    Mr. Robinson came around the desk, his spine as stiff as a plank. “Detective Kirkland.”
    “Mr. Robinson.” Kirkland’s smooth voice sent tingles up Tara’s spine. Double damn.
    “I am currently with a client, Detective,” Mr. Robinson said.
    “This won’t take a minute,” Kirkland said.
    Tara was stuck. There was no getting out of this jam. So she turned and smiled brightly at Kirkland.
    Surprise flickered in Kirkland’s ice-blue eyes for only an instant before he flashed even white teeth. “I believe we have met before.”
    Tara raised her chin. “Have we?”
    Mr. Robinson cleared his throat. “Detective, this is Mrs. Eloise Freedman.”
    Kirkland shook his head. “Actually, Mr. Robinson, this is Tara Mackey. She’s a reporter for the Globe .”
    Tara let out a sigh. Leave it to Kirkland to be the Boy Scout.
    Robinson grimaced with disgust. “You lied to me.”
    Tara shrugged. “You made the assumption I was Mrs. Freedman. I played along.”
    Robinson frowned. “I must ask you to leave my store immediately, Ms. Mackey.”
    “I just have a few questions about the Landover diamonds.”
    Mr. Robinson moved toward the door and opened it. “Ms. Mackey, we do not speak to the press. Robinson’s has a very elite clientele and most do not want the publicity.”
    “You were happy to gossip about the Landovers before.”
    Robinson’s face turned red. “That’s when I thought you were one of us.”
    One of us. Again, she was on the outside looking in. She glanced at Kirkland. “Come on, tell Mr. Robinson that I’m okay. If someone says off the record, I honor it.”
    Kirkland shook his head. “I can vouch for that, Mr. Robinson.”
    “Ms. Mackey, I don’t talk to any press. Period,” Robinson said. “Leave, or I will have the detective call a squad car.”
    She shot Kirkland a glare.
    He shrugged. “This is a job for the police, not the press.”
    She stepped out onto the curb and Robinson closed the door in her face.
     
     
    Alex had to give Tara credit. The woman had nerve. He wasn’t sure how she’d wormed her way into the exclusive shop, but somehow she’d managed it. He pulled out his notebook. This investigation wasn’t a game.
    Robinson straightened his tie. “I am sorry about that. I assumed her name was Freedman because the real Mrs. Freedman had an appointment.”
    “Don’t feel too bad. She’s a smart reporter. You’re not the first one she’s