He could almost see her smile. “Why start now?” Then she was serious again. “Call me with anything, Jeremy. Anything. It’s better than not knowing.”

After they’d hung up, Jeremy packed a carry-on bag and grabbed a seat on a night flight out of San Diego for Boston, Massachusetts. Maybe he was wrong and Ashley Wakefield didn’t have anything to do with Mac’s strange behavior.

Then again, maybe he wasn’t and she did.

First thing Saturday morning. Ashley took the tiara and choker to her bank and opened a safe-deposit box. The bank officer flirted with her and asked her if she were free for dinner that evening. Thank you, she said, but she had plans—which she did, more or less, although not with another man. Tomorrow night? he asked. No. In fact, she lamented, she was busy indefinitely. He shrugged off his defeat: what the hell, she’s rich; it was worth a shot. She could read his mind.

As she entered the Touchstone offices, Ashley felt a pang of guilt. Between the ringing phones and reporters stalking the place, Caroline hadn’t gotten any work done yesterday, either. “I’m sorry about all the bedlam around here, Caroline.”

She waved away the apology. “What’s up?”

Ashley sighed. “I’m going out to the farm. I don’t know for how long, but I’ve got to see David and Barky. If you would, have Patti clear my calendar— business and social.”

“Done.” She smiled at Ashley. “Don’t look so relieved, Ash. It’s not a crime to need some help. Now what else can I do?”

“I hate to ask...”

“Never mind what you hate. What do you need?”

She hesitated. “Everything you can get me on Sarah Balaton of Houston, Texas.”

Caroline twisted her mouth to one side. “No questions?”

“She wants the tiara and choker.”

“Holy shit.”

Ashley quickly related the strange call of last night.

“Well, well, well,” Caroline said. “I’ll start sniffing right away.”

“I don’t know how to thank you—”

The vice president of Touchstone Communications scowled. “I don’t want to be thanked, dammit! I’d expect the same treatment from you—and I know I’d get it.”

“That’s right. If there’s ever a time—”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Caroline.”

“Jerk.” She grinned. “Now go on and make peace with the folks at home. Bring me back some apples.”

David had the hood up on his Land Rover, parked in the driveway next to Barky’s truck, and was tinkering with the carburetor. It was a perfect autumn morning, and he had a million things he wanted to get done today. But nothing could beat messing around with his Rover. He could have afforded a fleet of new ones, but it wouldn’t be the same. He knew every idiosyncrasy of this one, and working on it allowed him to grease up his hands, to crawl up inside himself and sort out his problems.

He figured now that his sister had her picture in a national magazine, the shit was going to hit the fan and some of it was going to smack them both right in the face. Someone would recognize the jewels. Barky would be accused of being a jewel thief. There’d be all sorts of crap about statute of limitations, but they’d still think of some reason to haul their uncle’s ass in and throw him in the slammer till his dying days.