Free Diamonds Can Be Deadly by Merline Lovelace

her through the facility. The exercise room was a jungle of gleaming steel, with enough treadmills and stair-step machines to whip the 82nd Airborne into shape. The salon boasted six stations and an assortment of expensive hair and skin products. Steam rooms, hot tubs, whirlpools and a lap pool shimmering in turquoise completed the workout area.
    The treatment rooms formed a semicircle at the rear of the facility. Each faced the exterior, so the guest could enjoy spectacular views of verdant peaks and rolling waves while being pumiced, pummeled or prepped. The attendant led Jordan to one of the cubicles and drew a batik wrap from the bamboo cabinet.
    â€œI’ll let Ms. Wu know you’re here. She’ll be right with you.”
    Jordan took a few moments to poke around the cubicle before shaking out the wrap. She was reaching for the drawstring on her shorts when the door opened once more. It wasn’t the attendant or Liana Wu who entered, however, but TJ Scott.
    He was in his duty uniform again—crisp slacks, emerald green polo shirt imprinted with the Tranquility Institute logo—but his expression conveyednone of the warmth and cheerful friendliness displayed by other members of the staff.
    â€œDon’t you ever knock?” Jordan asked, seriously annoyed.
    â€œI want to talk to you.”
    â€œWe said all that needed saying yesterday.”
    â€œNot quite. Where were you last night?”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œI saw the wet suit wadded up on your bathroom floor. Did you go out for a swim?”
    â€œMaybe I did. Is that against the rules?”
    â€œNo. The thing is, our computers indicate you went in through the front door only once last night, when you returned from dinner.”
    â€œThat doesn’t give me a great deal of confidence in your hot-dog system. Does it fail regularly?”
    â€œThis is the first time. If, in fact, it failed, which I don’t believe happened.” His eyes drilled into her, granite hard, stone cold. “Why did you bypass the system, Red? Where did you go?”
    â€œWhat I do and where I go is my business, Scott. Yours is to protect Bartholomew Greene and his guests. It’s just my opinion, of course, but it sounds like you’re doing a piss-poor job of it.”
    He let that zing by him and kept his gaze narrowed on Jordan’s face. “How did you keep your name out of the papers?”
    The sudden shift caught her off guard. “What?”
    â€œWhen I was arrested. The media had a field day skewering me from all sides. Yet your name neverappeared on either the police blotter or the press releases put out by the NYPD, much less in the tabloids. Why?”
    â€œI had a good lawyer.”
    And she worked for one of the most powerful men in the country. OMEGA’s director had a direct line to the White House. Nick Jensen didn’t use it often. When he did, the call produced instant results.
    Her pat answer rubbed TJ the wrong way. His jaw tight, he issued a terse warning. “Listen to me, Red. I don’t know what your game is or why you showed up at the Tranquility Institute just a few short weeks after I signed on, but this isn’t the time or the place to fix what went wrong in New York.”
    It took a moment for the implications to sink in. When they did, she hooted in derision.
    â€œYou think I flew to Hawaii hoping to pick up where we left off three years ago? Hardly!”
    His mask slipped for a moment. She caught a glimpse of the frustration and impatience behind it as he thrust a hand through his hair, shagging it into short brown spikes.
    â€œJust give me a yes or no. Did you leave your bungalow last night after you got back from dinner?”
    â€œNo.”
    She was good. Damn good. TJ didn’t know how she managed to infuse just the right mix of disdain, disgust and annoyance into a single syllable, but the woman had the combination down pat.
    Problem was, he didn’t