Ashley: I must have the jewels. Leave them behind the rock where you and David played pirates. I will find them. No one must see you, Ashley, and you must not see me. Tell only David what you are doing. I will ask nothing else of you. I wish I didn’t have to ask this. Trust me.

B.

So it is the jewels, she thought.

How had Barky found his truck in the airport parking lot? Was he watching her?

“Where the hell are you?”

She shut the door. Locked it. Looked around the silent garage. “Trust me.” Hell. She read the note again. When had he written it? Had he already been to the rock, not found the jewels, decided she didn’t trust him?

He wasn’t fishing. He had lied to David.

Had he hit MacGregor Stevens on the head?

She stomped on the clutch and turned the key. The truck roared to a start. She gunned the engine. Her head hurt, and her knuckles were turning white as she gripped the steering wheel.

“Trust me.”

“Oh, God,” she breathed, and let out the clutch, backing out of the narrow parking space. It clattered over grates. She was going too fast and took the downward curve too sharply. She slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing the rear end of a BMW.

She had to keep a clear head.

Why did Barky need the jewels?

She paid her parking fee and headed out onto the highway, taking Sumner Tunnel under Boston Harbor, then making her way onto Storrow Drive, along the Charles River to the Cambridge Street exit. She turned up Charles Street and found a parking space a block from her building. No reporters. Thank God.

Digging out her keys, she trotted up the front steps.

A voice from behind her said, “Afternoon, Ashley.”

She didn’t even need to turn around. “Carruthers.”

He took the steps two at a time. Even in the drizzle, the highlights in his hair stood out, and she annoyed herself by staring at his eyes. They were truly magnificent eyes; she had to admit that much. He wore jeans that emphasized the slimness of his hips and the length of his legs. Or was she just suddenly attuned to these things? Shock, she supposed.

“I hope you didn’t fly all the way out here just to see me,” she said.

He crossed his arms and sat on the wrought-iron rail. “Now I see why you adopted an eel. You must get along famously.”

She stuck her key in the door. “They remind me of most men I know, actually. If you’ll excuse me—”

“Don’t you even want to know why I’m here?”

“Tell only David what you are doing.” The question was, was she doing it? Was she going to get the tiara and the choker from her safe-deposit box and leave them for Barky? Even as her mind raced, she was remembering that the safe-deposit key was in the bottom of her handbag. She’d refused to go anywhere without it. Melodramatics, she’d told herself. Well, maybe not.