Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

you tell Dad?”
    “Uh, no. I thought I’d leave it to you.”
    “Sweet. Really sweet.”
    Sharon punched the disconnect, squared her shoulders, and headed in for the morning squawk from her seagull manager.

Chapter 30
    Scottsdale
    Friday
    8:10 A.M .
    Peyton was in his bathrobe when he opened the door for Jack Kirby.
    “Late night?” Kirby asked.
    As usual, Kirby was wearing the kind of slacks and shirt that could be dressed up or down as the occasion required. When you were following a subject, you never knew where he would go next. The paper bag dangling heavily from his left hand had the logo of a local coffee and bagel shop.
    “Late enough.” Peyton closed the door quickly. Even though Kirby was carried on Hall Jewelry’s payroll as a personnel specialist, Peyton would just as soon not be seen with the man too often.
    “Got any coffee?” Kirby asked.
    Peyton looked at the paper bag in Kirby’s hand. “Over there.” Peyton pointed to a low table. “Extra cream is in the bar fridge. Room service should arrive with the food any minute.”
    “Great. I haven’t had a chance to eat yet. Place is crazy since the Purcells were murdered. Suddenly everyone wants a rush background check on their great-aunt Tillie.” Kirby laughed. “Glad I’mnot one of those crime strike force boys. Eating shit on the six o’clock news was the worst thing about being a government agent.”
    “Awful thing, those murders,” Peyton said, frowning. “With all the good stuff floating around the Royale right now, why murder the Purcells for a handful of second-rate gems? And the FBI was in the frigging parking lot while the murders went down. That’s just nuts. Must be some psycho.”
    “Probably.” Kirby sighed and shook his head. “I gave up trying to figure out people the first time I saw a ten-year-old crack whore turning tricks for his mother, who was also a crack whore but too pregnant to be much good on her back or even on her knees. After that, something like a middle-aged man with a Colombian necktie and a dead wife in bed with him doesn’t even make me look twice.”
    “Jesus. Is that what they did to him?”
    Kirby shrugged. “So I hear.”
    With a grimace Peyton poured coffee. “Do you mind changing the subject? I’m going to be eating breakfast soon.”
    Kirby bit back a smile. He just loved Peyton’s pussy reactions to the facts of life. “Sorry. I brought something that should put you in a real good mood.”
    “Did some shipments come in?”
    “Fresh from my Thai connection,” Kirby lied easily, taking the coffee cup Peyton handed to him. “Second-tier stones, Asian cut for carat weight rather than shine.”
    “Just the way I like them.”
    “That’s why I thought of you.” Kirby started to open the paper bag he’d brought with him.
    “Wait until room service comes,” Peyton said quickly.
    “Oh. Sure.” Kirby struggled not to smile at Peyton’s nervousness. What a girly. Everybody and his brother is showing gems around and he’s afraid to be caught looking at them by the Mexican help. “Does your company have any finished Thai merchandise in the pipeline?”
    Peyton went to his own computer, entered a password, then enteredanother password and a string of numbers. A block of the computer’s hard drive that wasn’t listed in the directory opened obediently.
    There was a knock on the door and a call, “Room service.”
    Peyton tucked the computer under his arm, opened the door, and signed for the meal.
    While the food was being set out on a linen tablecloth in the next room, Kirby and Peyton talked about sports. As soon as the guy finished arranging plates and left, Kirby pulled a package out of the paper bag.
    “Let’s sit down while it’s still warm,” Peyton said, heading toward the food. “I’m starved.”
    “Sure. For once, that stuff smells good enough to eat.”
    Kirby pulled a chair out and sat at the small dinette table. Peyton lifted a small vase of fresh flowers out of the way, put his computer next to his plate, and went to work on breakfast.
    “Hey, this is almost hot,” Kirby said, biting into a sausage-and-onion omelet. “How do you rate?”
    Peyton took a big bite of rare steak. “I tip well. Something Sharon never figured out.”
    Kirby snickered and wondered if Sharon Sizemore would ever “figure out” that Peyton was using her for more than sex. When she finally got smart, it would be fun to be a fly on the wall. If her temper was anything like her