The Diamond Affair Read online

  "It would seem he either knows or doesn't care," Beauvoir said.

  "You bastards!" She leapt at him but Frankie caught her round the waist and pulled her back, hard. She struggled and kicked out but it was pathetic. He tightened his grip, squeezing the air out of her lungs. She stopped struggling. She would need to conserve her energy if she were to get out alive.

  "Where is it?" Beauvoir said casually.

  "I don't know." She sucked air into her lungs and wriggled. Fat Frankie let her go but kept the gun trained on her. "If I did, don't you think I would have given it back to you by now so you'd leave me alone?"

  "Perhaps you can't give it back," Beauvoir said. "Maybe you've already sold it, or someone else has taken it from you. If so, I want to know who."

  "You're freaking nuts to think I would ever steal anything from you. I would have to be as mad as you to be so stupid."

  Frankie laughed. Beauvoir shot him a glare and the laughter died.

  "You realize if you don't co-operate, Frankie will have to kill you."

  She shook her head in a show of bravado that she certainly didn't feel. "No he won't. If you think I know where the Florentine is, you need me alive to take you to it."

  Beauvoir stretched his neck to the side, cracking it. "Not as naïve as you look, are you? Since we can't kill you, perhaps torture will suffice. It's amazing what people will say and do under the application of a little pain." He stretched his neck to the other side. "Or perhaps something a little more...fun." His slippery gaze slid to her bare legs. She wore Jake's sloppy T-shirt and nothing else.

  Frankie chuckled like a goon behind her. "She's got a nice shape," he said. "Tits a bit small but you can't have everything."

  "No," Beauvoir said on a sigh. "You can't. Or in this case, I can't." He checked his watch. "Frankie, you'll have to do the honors. I've got some personal business to take care of."

  Frankie's sneer was pure enjoyment. "My pleasure, Boss."

  "Call me as soon as she talks." He took one last, lingering look at Ruby's legs then left. The scrunch of tires on gravel faded as he drove off.

  Ruby was alone with Frankie in the middle of God knows where, her wrists still tied in front of her and dressed only in a T-shirt. So far, the night sucked.

  But she had the sickening feeling it was about to get a whole lot worse.

  ***

  Jake's chest hurt, but it had nothing to do with the bruised ribs and everything to do with Ruby.

  Frankie had taken her.

  As soon as Jake woke up in the Alfred Hospital, he'd made a call to his apartment. No answer. He'd made a second call to Damien who lived nearby and asked him to check on Ruby. He'd reported back that she was gone. By then, Jake had already discharged himself and called a cab. He met Damien outside his apartment and asked him for the loan of his car. Damien obliged, but only after asking a million questions of his own, none of which Jake answered.

  He drove to Beauvoir's house as fast as the sedan could take him. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could beat some answers out of the bastard and find out what they'd done with Ruby. Or what they'd done to her.

  The only comfort came from knowing they wouldn't kill her. They needed her to find the Florentine, the diamond she'd didn't have.

  Christ. They may not kill her, but there were a hell of a lot of other things they could do.

  An icy mist coiled around his insides, shrouding the tiny light that had been glowing there in darkness.

  Ruby.

  She had to be all right. Had to be.

  He parked down the street from the Beauvoir residence and popped some of the painkillers the nurse had given him for his headache. He pulled out the gun and bullets he'd packed into a backpack at his apartment and moments later he was around the back of the Beauvoir mansion.

  The house was quiet. The only light came from an upstairs window. Penny's window by his reckoning. Four in the morning was a strange hour for the seventeen year-old to be up considering she'd have school in a few hours. Then again, what did he know about teenage girls? It could be perfectly normal behavior.

  Jake unlocked the back door with his lock picks and went inside. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness then he set off upstairs. Avoiding the end of the house where Penny's bedroom was located, he worked his way down to the other end where loud snoring came from the master bedroom.

  Gun at the ready, he peered round. A sleeping body lay in the middle of the big bed, one leg on top of the covers, blonde hair splayed out across the pillow. Sonya. She slept alone.

  Where the hell was Beauvoir?

  Jake crept back down the hall and checked all the rooms in case the unhappily married couple didn't sleep together. But they were all empty. He even checked Penny's in case he'd been mistaken, but she sat at her computer, back to the door, the monitor providing the only light in the room. She held a phone in one hand and dialed. After only a couple of seconds, she hung up, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

  He left her to her gadgets and headed back down the stairs. The housekeeper mustn't be a live-in because he found no evidence of her private space, nor did he find Beauvoir. The bastard wasn't home.

  Jake returned to Damien's car and drove to Beauvoir's office in the city. The building was shrouded in darkness. There was no one there.

  He thumped the steering wheel then cursed as pain tore up his hand and into his arm. It was a grim reminder of his injuries and the accident. The accident that had stopped him getting to Ruby before Frankie.

  ***

  Ruby swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat and frantically looked around the cabin. The room they were in contained a rusty oven and stove beside a free-standing cupboard. In the middle of the room stood a small table with two wooden chairs, their white paint peeling off like a layer of skin. On the opposite wall to the front door was another door, presumably leading to a bedroom and bathroom but it was closed. She could see only one door leading outside and Frankie stood between it and Ruby.

  His sneering grin widened. "Had a good look around, Mizz Jones?"

  She turned her gaze on him. He was six and a half feet of solid blubber. If he wanted to torture her, as his boss suggested, he could do any number of things from sitting on her to beating her to a pulp and there'd be nothing she could do about it. On the up side, he didn't seem particularly bright.

  "I'm starving," she said, glancing at the kitchen. Any kitchen, even one in a dump like this, would have a knife or two lying around. "I don't suppose there's any food in that cupboard."

  He shrugged. "Don't think so. The boss doesn't come up too often and my visits only last as long as necessary. Usually my guests give in well before I get hungry."

  The lump of fear in her throat grew bigger.

  Why oh why had she ever answered that call by Beauvoir to go look at his new diamond? If only she could go back in time...

  But then she wouldn't have met Jake. Even though she barely knew him, she couldn't wish him gone from her life.

  Please be all right.

  She had to get away from Frankie. Had to find Jake. She'd do whatever it took.

  Drawing courage and air into her lungs, she said, "Let me see what's in the cupboard." She moved but Fat Frankie grabbed her hair and jerked her back.

  "Stay here," he snarled into her ear. He let go but kept the gun trained on her head.

  She rubbed her scalp and stared him down. "Afraid I'll turn the tables on you? Think I might be going to trick you so I can get that gun off you? I could you know. I'm stronger than I look."

  Frankie rocked back on his heels and laughed so hard his belly shook and all three of his chins wobbled. "A puny thing like you against a whale like me? You're a funny girl, Mizz Jones." He sobered again in a heartbeat and his gaze turned narrow and nasty. "Now, I've got plans for you."

  "Don't you come anywhere near me."

  "Or what?" He took a step closer. "You'll scream?" Another step. "There's no one around for miles." And an
other.

  "You'll have to kill me before I let you touch me," she warned him.

  His smile revealed yellowing teeth. "Think I won't kill you? Think again, Mizz Jones." His black eyes dilated as he raised his gun to her temple

  He would kill her. She could see it in his eyes, knew it in her bones. Despite what Beauvoir said about keeping her alive, Frankie would shoot her dead in that cabin and no one would ever know.

  She blinked rapidly to fight back the tears. This man was insane to go against his boss's orders. But that could work in her favor.

  She glanced over his shoulder. "Did you hear all that, Guy?"

  Her ruse worked. Frankie whirled to look at the front door. Ruby leapt onto his back and swung her arms over his head and around his throat. She pulled hard with her tied hands. His head jerked back and she put as much pressure on his Adam's apple as she could.

  A gurgle escaped as he tried to shake her loose. She held on. With his spare hand, he clawed at her arm, shredding her skin. Pain bloomed then she cast it off as if it were no more annoying than a fly. There was no room in her for pain, everything she had was going into squeezing the life out of Fat Frankie.

  Another gurgle came from his throat and his struggles seemed to lessen. A few more seconds...

  But then the big body suddenly caved. No, not caved, bent over at the waist and bucked, sending her flying over his head. She landed on the floor nearby with a heavy thud. The effort forced him down onto one knee.

  "You little bitch!" he rasped. He rubbed his throat as he raised the gun with the other, bandaged, hand.

  She kicked out and connected with his injury. Frankie roared in pain and dropped the weapon. It fell just out of her reach, and his.

  In the instant they both realized it, their gazes locked. He half stood to dive for the gun. The movement exposed his—and every man's—weakest spot.

  Ruby kicked upward and her foot landed with satisfying accuracy on his groin. Fat Frankie screamed so high he could have been mistaken for an opera soprano. He clutched his groin and doubled over, his face twisted with agony and surprise.

  Now she dove for the gun. She grabbed with her tied hands and aimed it at his head. Not that he noticed. He was too busy rolling around on the floor.

  "Throw the car keys over by the door," she said.

  "Kiss my ass," he squeaked. He got up on his knees but still held his groin, whether for the pain or protection, she couldn't tell.

  She sighed. "If you had done your homework, you would know I have a brother in the SAS. That same brother taught me the moves you just witnessed. I only wish I'd had the chance to use them on you earlier." She shrugged and tried to keep her voice level, her nerves steady. "Better late than never, I suppose. You might also like to know that my brother taught me to shoot. Accurately." To demonstrate, she shifted the gun a fraction down and to the left and fired. The bullet pierced the floorboard only an inch away from Frankie's knee.

  His mouth dropped open. He sat back on his haunches. "You won't kill me," he said, but he neither looked nor sounded convinced by his own words.

  "I might not. But I will shoot your balls off without hesitation."

  His jaw bit down and his thighs clamped together.

  "The keys. Over by the door. Slowly."

  He dug into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out the keys then threw them. She didn't turn to see where they landed but backed up to the door. When her foot touched the keys, she bent to pick them up, keeping her eyes on Frankie.

  With her hands tied, she had to put the keys in her mouth and turn side-on to open the door while holding the gun. She managed it while still keeping Frankie in her sights. He didn't move, despite the gun not being trained directly at him.

  Cool air ruffled her hair and caressed her bare legs. Until she felt it, she didn't realize how hot it had been in the cabin.

  With the gun once again aimed at Frankie, she pressed the unlock button on the key. The sports car bleeped. She backed out of the door then ran the last few feet to the car. Placing the gun on her lap, she shoved the key into the ignition and turned the lights on high beam. If Frankie came out, he would be blinded while she reached for the gun again.

  But he didn't come out. Too afraid? More likely he was calling Beauvoir. By Ruby's calculation, Guy would be at least ten minutes away. Even if he turned around and came straight back, she should be long gone. But not if she took the same route they'd arrived on, the most direct to Melbourne. She couldn't risk meeting Beauvoir on a dark road in the middle of nowhere. So she took different turns and just hoped they would lead her back to the Calder Highway.

  The sports car was easy to drive, and fast, even with her wrists tied together. Turning corners was a challenge at first but she soon found a rhythm. It wasn't until fifteen minutes had passed and she hadn't seen another car on the road that she exhaled deeply and began to relax.

  Thank you, Matt. Her brother would be glad to know his lessons in self-defense had been useful. Then again, maybe not. She'd probably never tell him the details of what had happened in that cabin. He'd go all protective and big brotherly on her. It was never pretty.

  Jake, on the other hand, would probably demand to know what had happened. She couldn't begin to imagine what would have gone through his head when he'd found her gone from his apartment.

  That's if he was even aware of her absence.

  Please be safe and in one piece.

  She fought back tears but it was a wasted effort. All the pent up fear, relief, and sheer frustration came tumbling out in those tears. She swiped at them with her shoulder because she couldn't move her damn hands off the steering wheel.

  It was useless. The tears kept coming. What should she do now? Where should she go? She couldn't go back to Jake's place, couldn't go to her own apartment. She had no clothes and no money, not even enough to make a phone call.

  And she had no idea if Jake was even alive.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ruby drove around the block twice before she parked the sports car two streets away from her apartment. She couldn't return to her own place without her keys but she could wake Evie up. As long as she was home and not staying overnight at her boyfriend's.

  She couldn't get into the stairwell to go up to the second floor so she scraped some pebbles off the flower bed and threw them at her friend's window. The first two missed but the third made a resounding crack on the glass. Two more pebbles later and a light came on inside. The window was thrown up and Evie's head popped out.

  "Who the hell—?"

  "Shhh, Evie, it's me. Ruby."

  "Rube?" Evie leaned further out of the window. "What are you doing here at this hour? Where've you been? And where're your clothes?"

  "Let me in and I'll tell you everything."

  Evie disappeared and the door to the stairwell buzzed. Ruby pushed it open and ran up the stairs. Evie opened her door and pulled Ruby into a tight embrace.

  "I've been worried sick," she said. "That man had a good look around your car the other night then he broke into your apartment. I called the cops but they couldn't do much. They really want to speak to you."

  "Never mind the cops, can I use your phone?"

  "Sure—. Hey, why are your wrists tied?" She worked on the bonds, listening with wide-eyed horror to Ruby's brief explanation.

  Once her hands were free, Ruby rubbed the sting out of her wrists. They were raw but thankfully the skin hadn't broken.

  Evie found a salve in her bathroom and applied it to the red marks. "I bet you need a coffee," she said afterwards. She put the kettle on and hovered nearby while Ruby dialed Jake's phone number from memory. It rang out. She swore because it was less damaging than beating the phone against the kitchen bench, or crying.

  "What's up?" Evie asked.

  "Do you have a phone book handy?"

  Evie reached into a cupboard and pulled out the books. "Coffee?" she said as she handed them to Ruby.

  "God, yes." Ruby flicked the pages until she came
to the Forrester listings. Please don't have a silent number. Yes! She punched in his home number.

  It was picked up on the first ring.

  "Hello, this is Damien speaking."

  Ruby froze. Damien? Another of Beauvoir's men?

  "Hello?" the voice prompted. "Is this Ruby?"

  "Uh," she said, "is Jake there?"

  "This is Ruby isn't it?" Damien said. "Jake told me to wait here in case you returned or called."

  Evie slid a mug of coffee across the bench and Ruby cupped it, warming her hand. Should she trust this Damien fellow? Jake had never mentioned him. How had he come to be in Jake's apartment?

  "He's all right," Damien said. "He's out of hospital."

  Hospital? Oh God, he was injured. A small choking sound escaped her throat before she covered her mouth with her fingers.

  "Sorry, I forgot, you wouldn't have known he was in hospital. Man, he's been frantically trying to find you. I've never seen him so fired up over a job before."

  "If you know Jake," she said cautiously, "you'd know where he was moving to and why."

  "Wise to be careful," Damien said, sounding satisfied. "He's moving to Sydney. As to why, I can't help you there but if I know Jake—and I can tell you I've done a few jobs with him now—-then he's running away from something. Actually it's probably more of a someone."

  Ruby blew out a breath. That was about the sum total of her knowledge of Jake too. It would have to do. "Can you get in touch with him?"

  "Yep. He's using my phone and my car. Hopefully both fare better than his last ones. Got a pen and paper?"

  Ruby hung up and dialed the number Damien had given her. It picked up after only one ring. "Any news?" It was him.

  "Jake, it's me." That was all she got out before she burst into tears.

  ***

  She'd never been so happy to see anyone in her life. When Evie opened the door to Jake, Ruby ran into his arms, all discomfort from their earlier kiss forgotten. He held her close but she felt his body tense on impact and he sucked air between his teeth.

  "You're hurt," she said, touching the line of stitches slashing his forehead.

  "Are you?" His hooded gaze swept over her body. She'd changed into some spare clothes of Evie's but her feet were still bare.