Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

places.
    “Some of the importers who supply the hobby trade have uneven reputations,” Kate said. “Starr Crystals and Overseas Coral and Gems come to mind.”
    “Would these outfits be able to handle the kind of high-end stuff that couriers sometimes carry, especially for a gem show like this?”
    “Probably not, unless they were spotting for private collectors or lining their own retirement accounts.”
    “Some of the couriers we lost were carrying Rolex watches and gold coins,” Sam said. “Could they go to the same outlet as the rough and loose-cut stones?”
    Kate thought about it. “If you have a chain of jewelry stores, maybe. Several such operations follow the gem circuits, because they make their own jewelry and like to keep in touch with what new colored stone is hot in the trade. Peyton Hall’s family operation is one. Morgenstern and Sons is another. Heartstone Gems and Jewelry is a third. They’re all here in Scottsdale. Then there are the nationwide chains.” She shrugged. “There are three other big ones I could name and maybe fifteen in the next tier. Any of them could be an outlet for stolen goods, either at the national level or through a corrupt local manager. Their representatives also follow the gem circuit just to keep a feel for what the trade is doing.”
    “What about the local pastor?” Sam said wryly.
    She laughed. “In other words, I’m giving you too many suspects?”
    “Hey, I asked.”
    Her smile vanished. “I’m sure the courier companies are also suspect. And the couriers themselves.”
    He nodded.
    “Even my stepfather’s couriers,” she said.
    “Yes.”
    “And my stepfather.”
    “You know the answer,” Sam said.
    “My stepfather isn’t a crook!”
    Sam looked at Kate’s fierce eyes and determined chin, and hoped to hell she was right.
    For everyone’s sake.
    “Okay,” he said. “You read Lee’s file again. Something might jump this time.”
    “It didn’t the first three times.”
    “When you can recite it chapter and verse, I’ll be sympathetic. Until then, I’ve got some folks to talk to.”
    “They’d talk better if I was along,” Kate said.
    “No.”
    “Why?”
    Sam went out the workroom door without answering. He didn’t think she would want to know that Lee’s file would soon be updated, which put her ass right on the firing line. He sure didn’t want to be the one to tell her.
    And he knew he would be.

Chapter 32
    Scottsdale
    Friday
    10:12 A.M .
    “Where the hell is Groves?” Kennedy demanded, slamming the hall door of Sizemore’s suite behind him.
    Doug straightened from the cup of coffee he’d been pouring from Sizemore’s ever-cooking urn. At the other end of the room, Sizemore was growling into a phone, reaming someone in his L.A. office for not preventing the sun from rising or setting—Doug was only hearing one side of the conversation, so he wasn’t sure which impossible chore the underling had screwed up.
    “Special Agent Groves is working on leads from his CI,” Doug said. “When he develops anything significant, you’ll be the first to know.”
    “Uh-huh,” Kennedy said, unimpressed. “Colton said she was a real hot piece of ass.”
    “Bill Colton wants to be the next SAC in Phoenix.” Doug topped off his cup with lethal black liquid before he turned back to his boss and said, “Groves stands in the way of Colton’s ambition. A small matter of seniority and cases cleared.”
    “Colton is a hard worker.”
    Doug took a swallow and shuddered. “Colton is a decent agent, agood bureaucrat, and a gifted ass-kisser. None of that should be news to you after working with him for a week.”
    “You spend too much time protecting that pet hardhead of yours,” Kennedy retorted. “I didn’t want Groves on the strike force in the first place.”
    “Groves gets results.” And I hope to hell he gets some on this case real soon.
    “Then tell the son of a bitch to pull his finger out of his ass and get me some results before tomorrow,” Kennedy snarled. He grabbed a clean cup and filled it with coffee. Every motion he made radiated anger. “This whole strike force is shaping up to be a real clusterfuck. We’re what—three months into it?—and all we’ve got is more robberies and murders and not one lead. I’ve got the director himself calling me for updates and all I have to say to him is the same crap Groves serves up on the six o’clock news.”
    “We’re doing everything we can.”
    “We’re