Page 30 of Merciless Heir

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Page 30 of Merciless Heir

My fingertips tingle as I run them over a close up of the tiara, the intricate work, the stones. They’re the same with the others, but the tiara is the standout.

“I think these are by Mininchi.”

“Who?”

“A master jeweler who only did some pieces and stopped. A long time ago. He went in another direction with his art, but the way he worked metal and stones, all designed to be worn, are spectacular, especially the show pieces. There aren’t many, and if these are early Mininchi…well…”

“They’re worth a lot.”

“More than you can think,” I say.

He smiles slow. “I can think of a lot.”

“I’m sure you can. Someone else must have seen these. If word was somehow out that not only did the Sinclair jewels exist, but they were Mininchi, then…” I look at Kingston. “These are huge. Especially the tiara.”

“You have a look. Like you might have a lead.”

I shake my head. “No lead.” Yet. “But I know someone who’s into them.”

“Who?”

“My ex.”

Chapter Nine

Kingston

The irrational flash of sharp-edged jealousy isn’t something I expect.

There’s nothing to be jealous of. I might be physically attracted to her, but it’s not like I’m looking for anyone, and if I was, Sadie Hess would not be it.

Of course she’s had significant others. She wasn’t grown in a test tube or released from some nunnery.

It doesn’t help I’m between lovers, and my last relationship of any meaning ended a number of months ago. My life’s been too caught up with my work, and now with the fucking bullshit to do with my family.

I quell it. Pushing it away. The jealousy is nothing more than a blip, an inherent kick of my base self, wanting to claim territory because it’s there.

I’m not my fucking brother.

She’s talking, saying something about going, and part of me agrees. Another part wants to poke around in here, because there’s such a feel of the old man and I want to explore it.

I also want to pull the place apart, bare handed.

“Yeah,” I say, “we should go.”

She’s straightening the photos, then gestures to the safe. “If there’s nothing else, we should put things back.”

I do that, close the door and turn the dial, locking it again. And finally, I put the picture back in place. As we leave, she locks the door behind us and then she looks up at me. Those dark eyes are intense.

“Do you want to see his wife, let her know we’re going?”

“Ex-wife. Nope.” I never had a problem with Misty, but she’s not exactly someone I’d seek out. And my father didn’t marry her for her brains or personality.” I head back down and around the pool, and out to the Jag. There, I lean against the driver’s side.

It’s a beautiful piece of machinery and in the cold, clear air, the sun shines down and the deep green of it seems alive with other colors, down in its depths.

I’m not a car guy, but with this, oh, yeah, I could be.

“So.” I hold out my hand. “Who’s the ex?”




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