Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

job of going through the would-be assassin’s clothing, looking for anything that might identify him. No wallet, which didn’t surprise Sam. Pros don’t make it easy for cops. There was a remote car key with a rental tag on it in a front pocket of the man’s bloody slacks. Nothing else. No credit card, no money, not even change in his pockets, which could have jingled and given him away.
    Automatically, Sam patted the body down for other weapons.
    It took him about forty seconds to find the sapphire.

Chapter 60
    Scottsdale
    Sunday
    8:00 A.M .
    “What do you mean Eduardo’s dead?” Peyton demanded.
    Sharon looked up from the breakfast she’d been sharing with Peyton until the phone rang. Without glancing over, he gave her a gesture that told her to stay put and be quiet. She shrugged and went back to her waffle.
    “Geraldo?” Peyton pressed. “Was it a heart attack?”
    In Los Angeles, his uncle sighed and looked at his sister. Peyton’s mother shook her head, silently saying that she didn’t want to talk to her son right now. This was business, and Geraldo de Selva’s job was to take care of things, because the Blessed Mother knew that Peyton was too busy lifting skirts to keep his attention on business. Like father, like son.
    “Regrettably,” Geraldo said, “it appears that Eduardo was involved in a little gem-cutting on the side. Family business, if street gossip can be believed.”
    Peyton believed it. He just hoped that Geraldo wasn’t listening on the same street corners as his nephew.
    “The de Santos…” Geraldo hesitated. “Well, people say they have many interests, few of them legal. A cousin of Eduardo’s in thejewelry district also died last night. Rumor says that he took too much of the money he’d been laundering for the drug lords. They left their mark on his body.”
    “How?”
    “Colombian necktie.” Geraldo sighed. “Mother of God, they’re brutal men.”
    “What about Eduardo?”
    “Dead, as I told you.”
    “But was he in with the Colombians too?”
    “We don’t know. His throat wasn’t cut, if that’s what you mean. He was tortured, then strangled.”
    Peyton grunted. “Damn it. I’ve been training him for years. How did it happen?”
    “We don’t know that either. All we know is that his body was in the cutting room when the janitor came by earlier. I’m on my way now to meet with the insurance agent and assess how much was stolen.”
    “Stolen.” Peyton’s voice was flat.
    Sharon’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t move or say a word. If Peyton wanted her to know, he’d tell her. If she wanted to know and he wasn’t talking, she’d find out in bed. It was a simple arrangement for both of them. That was why it worked.
    “I’ll take the next plane out to L.A.,” Peyton said. He was thinking hard and not liking any of the conclusions he came up with. The only good news was that none of the off-the-books gems were on the Hall headquarters cutting floor right now.
    “No, no, stay there,” Geraldo said quickly. “Your mother wishes you to take care of business in Scottsdale. There’s nothing for you to do here and much to do there. You know how important it is to get more rubies at the right price for our Christmas promotions.”
    Peyton thought about arguing, but didn’t. He’d never won an argument with his mother; no reason to think today would be his lucky day. “Tell me if you learn anything more. I still can’t believe Eduardo is dead.”
    “Yes, it’s difficult,” Geraldo said. “But greed brings all men to death.”
    “All men get there anyway,” Peyton said. “Might as well get there rich.”
    Geraldo laughed in spite of his sister’s frown. There were some things only men understood.
    “Call after you and the insurance agent go through the building,” Peyton said. “Give my love to Mother.”
    He hung up and stared for a moment at the phone.
    “Bad news?” Sharon asked, taking the last bite of waffle.
    “My head cutter was murdered last night.”
    Sharon’s fork hit the plate with a clatter. “Like Purcell?”
    “I don’t know. I hope not. There was some valuable stuff in the cutting safe.”
    “Did he have the combination?”
    “Yeah.” Peyton shrugged. “I got tired of being there at six-thirty every morning to open the damn thing.”
    Sharon hid a smile. Peyton hated to get up early. She didn’t love it much herself, but she didn’t fight it the way he did.
    “What was that about Colombians?” she asked.