Free The Diamond Affair by Carolyn Scott

raining down on the floorboards.
    Frankie's
flashlight slammed against the wall and went out but Jake didn't need to any
light to see. Frankie hadn't moved. If his deep gasps for air were any indication,
he was winded and couldn't move.
    Jake stamped his
foot down on Frankie's arm and aimed his own gun where he estimated the other
man's chest to be. Then he turned his flashlight on and trained it on Frankie's
face.
    "Finally
wised up to the fact Ruby's no thief?" Jake said.
    "You!" Frankie
wheezed. "What the hell are you doing here?"
    "Trying to
find out who really stole the diamond, because Ruby didn't do it."
    "Sinestri?"
    Jake shrugged. "He's
as likely as any. Isn't that why you're here?"
    "You sure
she didn't do it?" Frankie said. "Because I know how a great screw
can, well, screw you over. That what she did? Wiggle that sexy little ass in
your face— Ow! I think you broke my wrist, you crazy sonofabitch!"
    "If you don't
stop talking I'll break every bone in your body."
    "I was just
offering some advice. Don't want a fellow security officer getting caught up in
someone else's mess."
    "You and I
are not fellow anythings. And if you and your boss would just use your heads
you would realize Ruby hasn't stolen your diamond. She's not the type."
    "No? What
about her assistant?"
    "Aaron?"
A sick feeling congealed in the pit of Jake's stomach.
    "Do any
research on him before you dismissed him?" Frankie said. He was taunting
now. Gloating. "The guy's in debt up to his eyeballs. If your girlfriend
told him about the Florentine, don't you think he'd have taken it first chance
he got? Or used her to get it?"
    The sick feeling
just got worse. He'd dismissed Aaron based solely on Ruby's opinion. She'd
vouched for her assistant and he'd instantly forgotten about him. And they'd
alerted Aaron to the danger that morning. He could be anywhere by now.
    Damn it. Aaron
should have been top of his list. Ruby had got under his skin almost
immediately. She'd distracted him from his job, made him skip a step, made him
trust her.
    Yet another
reason not to let her get any closer than she already had.
    "Are you
going to get off my arm and point that gun somewhere else now?"
    Jake removed his
foot. "The gun stays put until I can be sure you're unarmed. Now get up
and empty your pockets."
    It took a lot of
effort for Frankie to stand. He rolled to the side, leaned on one knee and pushed
himself—
    Jake dove out of
the way as a knife whistled past his ear. Frankie must have stashed it in his
sock. For a big man, he could sure spin round and throw fast.
    In the instant it
took for Jake to roll and stand, Frankie had pulled out another gun. His first
one still lay on the ground on the far side of the office.
    Jake dodged as
Frankie fired. The whine of the bullet was too close for comfort.
    "Bloody hell!"
he shouted. He'd been shot at enough in Afghanistan, he didn't need it in
Australia too. Another shot and again he dodged but this time as he rolled, he
was ready.
    He got to one
knee, aimed, fired.
    Fat Frankie's gun
dropped to the floor and went off, shooting out the computer tower sitting near
the desk. So much for getting Damien to check it out.
    "Fuck!"
Frankie roared, shaking out the hand that had held the gun. Blood dripped from
the fingers but not much. The bullet had only grazed him.
    Jake kept his gun
trained on Frankie and backed up toward the door. "Follow me and I won't miss
next time." He crossed through the doorway then took off.
    His car was
parked a short distance away in the next street. As he turned the corner, he
glanced back over his shoulder. In the moonlight, he could just make out
Frankie jumping into a sports car parked outside Sinestri's office. The car
revved and headed straight for Jake.
    He pressed the
unlock button on his keyring and sprinted the last few feet to his car. He dove
into his SUV and threw it into gear. The sports car pulled up alongside. The
front passenger window slid down and the barrel of Frankie's gun