Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

Kennedy said. “I need a few minutes, okay? I’ll call you.”
    Sizemore shot a deadly look at Sam and Kate, then turned around and left the small room. The motor coach’s floor vibrated from the weight of his angry steps.
    Without a word Kennedy opened his belly drawer, reached in back, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Doug had a lighter ready. Still saying nothing, Kennedy took a deep drag, and another. Then he pinned Sam with a steel-gray glance.
    “I assume you have proof backing up your accusations,” Kennedy said with deceptive mildness.
    “Courtroom proof?” Sam asked. “No.”
    Kennedy’s lips flattened. “It’s too late to be coy. You better have something besides a big mouth.”
    Kate reached into the oversized purse she’d brought with her. She took out a sheaf of papers and put it on his desk.
    The SSA glanced down, saw the lines and handwriting, and frowned. “What’s this?”
    “Special Agent Groves and I spent a lot of time trying to figure out who knew what and when,” Kate said carefully. “This is the result. It suggests some new avenues of investigation.”
    “Give me the bottom line,” Kennedy said impatiently. “And it better be good, Groves, or you’re finished.”
    Sam reached into his pocket, pulled out a sealed, transparent evidence holder, and put it on Kennedy’s desk.
    Emerald-cut blue sapphire, as big as a man’s toenail, the gem inside the plastic drew light into its depths and returned it as blue fire.
    Kennedy looked from the gem to Sam. “Is this what I think it is?”
    “Yes.”
    “Judas Priest.”
    Kennedy picked up the papers and began to read.

Chapter 62
    Scottsdale
    Sunday
    1:30 P.M .
    Sizemore stalked into his hotel suite, only to find that Peyton was there with Sharon.
    “I need some time with my office manager,” Sizemore said through his teeth.
    Peyton knew an invitation to leave when it was shoved in his face. “Dinner at eight?” he said to Sharon.
    “She’ll be busy,” Sizemore said.
    Sharon started to argue, then saw the pallor beneath her father’s fading flush of anger.
    “She,” Sharon said coolly, “doesn’t know what she’ll be doing at eight.” She stood, kissed Peyton, and said softly, “I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on.”
    He shrugged and left without a word.
    “All right,” Sharon said as soon as the door closed. “This better be more than the usual ‘Why are you hanging with that shitheel?’ harangue.”
    Sizemore grabbed a beer, opened it, and drank most of it in three long swallows. He wiped his mouth and said, “Groves is trying to frame me for the courier deaths.”
    Sharon’s eyes widened. Her skin went as pale as her father’s. Cold sweat gathered on her spine. “What? What? He’s crazy! What’s his so-called evidence?”
    “I don’t know. Kennedy kicked me out of the office before they got down to it.”
    Slowly, she sank back down onto the couch. “There must be something then. Groves is a wild card, but he’s not stupid.”
    A beer bottle slammed into a wastebasket. Sizemore grabbed another brew out of the ice and opened the top with a savage jerk of his hand. “There’s something.”
    “What?”
    “I know Jack Kirby.”
    “Kirby, Kirby…” She frowned and drummed her fingers against her leg. “Do I know him?”
    “He was on the task force with me in Florida when I took down the South Americans. I don’t think Groves knows it. Yet. So was John ‘Tex’ White. He’d been with the army working on taking down the Colombian gangs.”
    “So what? That was a long time ago.”
    Sizemore looked bitter at the dismissal of his greatest moment, but didn’t argue the point with her. “Yeah, well Kirby is a PI and he’s working a case here and I had a drink with him a few days ago. Someone must have seen us together. Kirby and White still hang together, I guess.”
    “Who cares?” she said impatiently. “You have drinks with a lot of people.”
    “None of those people got shot to pieces by Sam Groves while trying to kill Kate Chandler.”
    Sharon took a breath, shook her head, and took another. She felt like the top of her head was coming off. “Wait. Back up. I’m missing something.” At least, she really hoped she was. “When did all this happen?”
    “Kennedy just kicked me out of his office.”
    “No. The killing. Or the attempted killing. Or whatever.” She stood up and started to pace. “What a cluster.”
    Sizemore didn’t argue. He just drank long