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“That works for me. How many jewelers will we be visiting?”

“I’ve got a list of ten.” He stopped at a red light. “That doesn’t include the more ­mass-­market jewelers. We’ll head there if we strike out at the specialist jewelers and ­watchmakers—­even if they didn’t make or import it, they might know who did.” New Zealand was a small country and the jewelers were in a niche industry.

“You sound pretty sure about it being a specialist piece.”

“I woke before dawn this morning. No use doing the patrol in the dark, so I spent the time online, trying to find watches similar to the one gifted to Miriama. Zero results. My gut says it was ­custom-­made and the ten places I have on my list all do custom jobs.”

“It’s possible it was purchased internationally.”

“I found a tiny koru design in the platinum of the ­band—­on the underside, where it locks into the right side of the watch face.” Inspired by the curl of a fern frond, it was a distinctly New Zealand symbol, one that signified new life and creation, growth and change. “That doesn’t rule out an overseas watchmaker, but it lessens the chances.”

He maneuvered around a large roadwork truck. “If the trail does run cold, I’ll do what you’ve suggested and upload the image to the web, see if someone recognizes the design or workmanship.” But first, he’d search closer to home. Miriama’s lover ­would—­at the ­time—­have had no reason to think anyone would come looking for the origin of the piece.

The lover had also come across as highly possessive and controlling in the journal entries. A man like that would probably want to direct the design process, possibly even supply his own gemstones. Far easier to do that with a local. “Our first stop is a boutique in the city. According to a friend of mine who works in ­high-­end thefts, the boutique’s known for its discretion as well as the high caliber of its work. You okay to wait on something to eat till after this stop?”

“I’m not the one who’s been up since before daybreak.”

“I’ll fill up at lunch.”

Managing to find a parking space only about five minutes ­away—­a miracle in a city lined with orange cones and construction ­vehicles—­he got out and the two of them began the short walk to the boutique. The midday sunshine was crisp against their faces, the city buzzing with life, but scars from the earthquake that had devastated it years earlier remained impossible to avoid.

Beside him, Anahera took care not to step on a hairline crack in the pavement that had escaped repair, and he wondered what it must have been like for her to be so far from her friends when news of the quake first broke. “There.” He nodded toward a discreet little shop tucked in between an electronic goods store and a designer clothing boutique. “That’s our first stop.”

36


The jeweler didn’t boast a security guard, but Will spotted two video cameras and an automatic metal grille that could be slammed down at a moment’s notice. He’d bet the window glass was bulletproof and that the staff all had access to silent alarms under the counters. He also wouldn’t be surprised if some of the items on display were beautiful fakes, with the real gems kept in locked safes and only brought out for serious buyers.

Pulling open the heavy door, he walked into the ­air-­conditioned inner sanctum behind Anahera. The woman who looked up from the other side of the pristine glass counter was an expertly groomed brunette in a maroon dress that hugged her body without being too tight. “Hello,” she said with a warmly professional smile. “How may I help you today?”

Clearly, the clerk had been trained to never judge a customer based on appearance. It was good advice, given what Will knew of the multimillionaires who lived in the region. One had a habit of walking around town in ­flip-­flops, while another drove a ­twenty-­year-­old junker and dressed like the eighties had never gone out of style.

“Good afternoon.” He showed her his police ID. “I’m working a missing person case and I’m hoping to track down the origin of a piece of jewelry.”

The woman’s professional facade fractured. “Oh, goodness.” Wide green eyes. “Of course, I’ll be happy to help, but our master jeweler’s probably the one you should talk to.”

“Does he come into the shop?”

“Not normally,” the clerk said, “but you’re in luck today. He’s here this morning to personally accept a delivery. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go fetch him.”

Instead of leaving the sales area, the clerk went to the back of the room and picked up a phone, speaking quietly into it before returning to her previous post.

A small man who might’ve once been blond, but whose hair had faded to ash gray, bustled out from the back soon afterward. “Detective,” he said, holding out a sinewy hand. “Ava said you were looking to identify a piece of jewelry?” His eyes held a question, but it wasn’t about the ­jewelry—­his attention was on Anahera.

“I’m sorry for staring,” he said when she raised an eyebrow, “but I could swear I’ve seen you before.”

“I get that a lot.”

The jeweler began to turn back to ­Will… halted midmove. “You create the most extraordinary ­music—­your gift is truly angelic,” he said in a hushed tone. “I’m deeply honored to have you in my store.”

Anahera went still. “Thank you.”

“I was very sorry to hear of the passing of your husband.”

Shoulders stiff, Anahera gave the man a tight smile before turning to look at some of the jewels on display. Will, meanwhile, took charge of the meeting. Removing the watch from his pocket, he took it out of the evidence bag to show it to the jeweler. “Is this one of your pieces?”

The man shook his head at once. “No, I do watches in partnership with a trained watchmaker, but this isn’t my style. Too flashy. That said, the craftsmanship is ­exquisite—­nothing ­mass-­market. Not even an elite ­mass-­market line. This is definitely custom.”

The clerk, who’d come to hover near her boss, craned her neck to look at the watch. “I don’t recall seeing anything like this ­before—­the design, I mean,” she said. “And Dad and I know most of the other jewelers in the country who do custom work.”

Her ­boss—­her ­father—­frowned. “Ava’s right. It’s very unique, especially that sunburst design with the diamonds. Some of my competitors do have new jewelers on ­staff—­it might’ve come from one of them.”

Will didn’t sense deceit in either of these two; if anything, they seemed eager to help. Putting the watch back in the evidence bag, he said, “Would you recommend I speak to any other jewelers or watchmakers in particular?”

Together, father and daughter came up with a list of seven, all of whom were already on his list. “Thank you.”

Anahera walked out with him without saying anything further to either the jeweler or the clerk, though she did incline her head toward them in a silent ­good-­bye.


Tags: Nalini Singh Mystery