Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

at you, think seagull, okay?”
    The man at the other end of the line looked toward the ceiling of his office at Sizemore Security Consulting. He didn’t rate a window, but he didn’t resent it. Only the big boss had one.
    “I’d rather think of a raise,” Jason said.
    “Works for me. I’ll bring it up the next time he isn’t chewing the scenery over something.”
    “I can’t wait that long.”
    Sharon sighed and wondered if all men were prima donnas, or just the ones she was unlucky enough to meet. “Look, you know I’m doing everything I can for you.”
    “And I’m doing the same for you. Winnowing truth from gossipin the jewelry trade is more art than science. I’ve sent a lot of business to Sizemore, and kept a lot of bad prospects from ever getting through the front door. You know that as well as I do.”
    Peyton got up and wandered over to Sharon. While he looked at the computer screen, his beer-cool fingers played with the hair curling against her cheek. She clicked to the next page of the document, reading, thinking, and listening all at once.
    After a moment, Peyton realized that she was vetting her father’s e-mail. The document she was reading had been routed to SSA Patrick Kennedy and forwarded to Ted Sizemore. Something about Lee Mandel.
    Peyton caressed Sharon’s cheek while he read at top speed.
    “Okay,” Sharon said after Jason wound down. “I’ll talk to Dad in a few days. Right now he’s biting the head off everyone within reach, including his Bureau buddies. Asking for a raise now would be stupid.”
    Jason drummed his fingers on the desk. “A week. No more. I had a really good offer from Mandel Inc.”
    “I know.” Jason hadn’t waited two minutes to call her after the offer came in. Not that she blamed him. It was business, not personal. She clicked to the next page of the document she was reading on the screen and asked, “Is everything else okay?”
    “My brother.” Jason sighed. “Still looking out the window, waiting for his lover to call, and wondering what the hell went wrong.”
    Sharon hesitated again. Clicked to the next page. Read hard and fast, then reread to make sure.
    “Sharon?”
    “Still here. I’m just—”
    “Multitasking as usual,” Jason cut in. “I promised Norm I wouldn’t say anything, but I’ve got to. His lover is Lee Mandel, the courier who vanished in Florida late last year.”
    Sharon froze. “Mandel? Gay? ”
    “Yes. Have you heard anything that I could tell Norm? He’s really slammed by this. Waiting and not knowing is hell.”
    Sharon shook her head like a dog coming out of water. “Lee is gay. Oh, my God. I interviewed Mandel and never even caught a hint.”
    “Does it matter?” he asked curtly.
    She shook herself again and thought hard, but all she said is, “Dad will flip.”
    “Lee isn’t out of the closet, so don’t tell anyone. Especially your father.”
    “Give me a few seconds.” Sharon stared at the screen, frantically piecing things together. She quickly decided that nothing had been hurt and something might even be helped. “Dad would have my head if he knew what I’m about to do.”
    “He’ll have your head anyway. That’s just the way he is.”
    “Don’t I know it. The Mandel file was just updated. Tell Norm to stop waiting and wondering. It wasn’t anything he did or didn’t do.”
    “What does that mean?” Jason asked.
    “The Bureau is looking for Lee’s body somewhere in the swamp on Sanibel Island.”
    Peyton’s playful fingers stilled.
    At the other end of the line, Jason closed his eyes. “Robbery or hate crime?”
    “They’re assuming robbery,” Sharon said.
    “This will kill Norm. He and Lee were going to be married in L.A. in two months.”
    “Shit, Jason. That really sucks. I’m sorry.”
    “You’re sure that Lee’s death wasn’t a hate crime?” Jason asked. “Florida isn’t what I’d call a hotbed of enlightened sexuality. When he was away from home and wouldn’t be recognized, Lee occasionally went to gay bars just to unwind. Someone could have seen him in one, followed him.”
    “I’ll make sure Dad brings up that angle with the Bureau.”
    “Good. Thank you,” Jason said.
    “Don’t expect anything.” Sharon rubbed the back of her neck and wondered if she’d make it to fifty before the hours killed her orshe killed her father or she took everything she’d socked away and got the hell out of Dodge. “Frankly, from what I’ve seen of this case, Lee