Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

to him the way he’d describe a lover. He’d visited her twice in Arizona and been amazed at the progress from shapeless, dull bluish stone to exquisitely faceted gems that burned with an extraordinary blue color.
    He’d enjoyed watching Kate’s excitement. For once it had seemed like she was years younger than he was, instead of eight years older. Not that he blamed her for being thrilled. It was a real coup for a relatively young cutter to score a high-end job like the rough from Arthur McCloud, one of the foremost collectors of gemstones in the world. She’d even asked that Lee courier the rough to her and then courier the cut and polished Seven Sins back to McCloud. Keeping it in the family, as it were.
    Squinting against the sun, Lee stared at the modest watch strapped to his left wrist. Quarter of eleven. Plenty of time. From the café, it was maybe fifteen minutes over a small bridge connecting Sanibel and Captiva islands. With luck he’d have an hour after he dropped off the stones on Captiva to go shelling on the falling tide and still make his flight out of Fort Myers to Los Angeles. On Friday, ninety percent of the traffic would be heading over the bridges into Sanibel; he’d be going the opposite direction. It should be an easy drive all the way in to the airport.
    He stretched again. In his shorts, golf shirt, and sandals, he blended right in with the rest of the population. Not too tall. Not too short. Not too fat. Not too tan. Not too anything. Couriers were as anonymous as their parcels. If he’d been in Manhattan, he would have worn a dark suit and charcoal overcoat. Seattle would have required a high-tech rain jacket and a cup of espresso mounted permanently in one hand. No umbrella. No one in the Pacific NorthWet bothered.
    The faint sound of a car responding to the call of an electronic key disturbed Lee. He sat upright and mentally reviewed the cars he’d seen when he parked in the lot just beneath him, near the stairway. Except for his white rental car, there hadn’t been any close to the stairs.
    Most of the shops opened at eleven, and that was twenty minutes away. The only other vehicles he’d noticed were parked well to the back, away from the stairs. The cars and light trucks almost certainly belonged to employees following orders to make it easy for the paying customers to park close to the stairs leading to the shops.
    He stood and glanced over the railing to the ground one story below. No one. The whining girl and her family had gone inside the café, apparently preferring smoke to fresh air. For the moment, he was as alone as anyone ever was in the winter tourist mecca of Sanibel Island.
    From beneath him came the muffled thump of a trunk closing.
    Frowning, he hurried down the stairs. The transition from fullFlorida sunlight to the full-shade gloom of the parking lot made him hesitate. He glanced quickly around the area.
    Nothing moved in the cool shadows.
    Telling himself he was being paranoid, Lee crossed quickly to his car. He punched the electronic key and unlocked the trunk.
    It was empty.
    “Son of a bitch!”
    Frantically he leaned in and felt around. Smaller than his palm, worth more than he would make in a lifetime, the package holding the Seven Sins could have shifted, maybe fallen into the wheel well.
    They have to be here.
    From the darkness beyond the car came a slight scuff, as though someone was trying to sneak past him to the bright sun. At least it seemed like sneaking until he spun around and saw a familiar face.
    Relieved, he smiled and said, “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you on this coast.”
    “You shouldn’t have seen me at all.”
    There was a soft sound, then a grunt as a bullet slammed through flesh and bone to Lee’s heart. He collapsed into the trunk.
    This can’t be happening.
    But it was. The world was spinning away and he wasn’t part of it anymore, color swirling down to black.
    Norm…Katie…can you hear me? I love…
    The trunk slammed down, hiding death.

Chapter 2
    Little Miami
    Two days later
    Jaime “Seguro” Jimenez de los Santos knew it was his lucky day when the door of his pawnshop opened and a platinum blonde with maximum boobs and a shrink-wrap dress sauntered toward him. Platform heels added five inches to her height and made her ass swing real nice. His only complaint was that the dress began at the neck and covered all that flesh.
    Then he took another look and realized that the breasts came from a high-class gel bra,