believe her now any more than he had last night. This made twice that sheâd lied to him, and the why of it was gnawing at his insides.
TJ had reviewed last nightâs security videotapes until his head pounded and the grainy images had blurred. Heâd also run a physical sweep of the entire business center. If someone had penetrated the facility, theyâd left no evidence behind.
And if that someone was Jordan, she was playing a very dangerous game. Until he figured out what that game was, he intended to keep her front and center on his internal radar screen.
âBartholomew advised me that he plans to show you his private collection later.â
She blinked at the terse pronouncement, obviously trying to follow the sharp turns in his questioning.
âWhy did he advise you? Does he require your permission or approval to show off his goodies?â
âNo, but he does need me to add you to the temporary access list for entry into the vault.â He waited a beat, watching for her reaction. âIâll have you on the monitors every second youâre inside.â
âThanks for the warning. If I decide to lift any of Bartholomewâs emeralds, Iâll be sure to turn my back to the cameras.â
âYou do that, Red.â
TJâs glance dropped to the teardrop nestled between her breasts. Like the others in Greeneâsprivate collection, the emerald had been treated with a chemical compound visible only when viewed through special filters. The insurance company required the chemical paint for tracking purposes. If Jordanâor anyone elseâtried to leave the institute with a stone that hadnât been washed of its special coating, sheâd light up like the high beams on a semi.
TJ almost hoped she would. He could nail her then, make her answer the questions sheâd dodged so skillfully up to this point. Every cop knew ways to force unwilling suspects to talk, some legal, a few close to the edge. The way he felt right now, he wouldnât mind getting Jordan Colby alone in a small, confined interrogation room.
He was deep into that scenario when Liana Wu appeared at the door to the treatment room. Her curious glance went from TJ to Jordan and back again.
âExcuse me. Am I interrupting?â
âNo,â he answered. âWeâre finished.â
For now.
CHAPTER 6
I n preparation for her visit to Bartholomewâs private residence, Jordan traded her shorts and halter for a strapless sundress with a shirred bodice. The elasticized fabric clung to her breasts, leaving the rest of the white-on-white print to fall in soft folds to midcalf. The dress was sophisticatedly simple and provided the perfect foil for the emerald teardrop clasped around her neck.
The bulky, cheerful Danny appeared in his golf cart to transport Jordan to Greeneâs private retreat. The house sat in isolated splendor, separated from the main part of the compound by a bend in the coastline. Although the two-story residence conformed to the same plantation-style architecture as the rest of the institute, the lanai at its rear was sharp and angular and jutted out above the cliffs like the prow of a ship. Like the master of a sailing vessel, Bartholomew Greene could stand on that balcony and soak in an unobstructed view of the vast, ever-changing Pacific.
Given what TJ had imparted earlier that afternoon about the security surrounding Greeneâs private collection, Jordan wasnât surprised to find Duncan Myers had also been invited to the showing. The sharp-eyed business manager could no doubt tell her the exact size, shape, weight and clarity of every stone in the vault.
Myers was waiting with Bartholomew in a living room dominated by a soaring cathedral ceiling and the prow-shaped windows. The furnishings were minimal, the dimensions of the room huge, leaving an overall feeling of spaciousness.
âI have good news,â Myers said after a houseboy served them all