d of old money

combat boots with suspicion. The sales clerk, a woman with a fa

he walked straight to t

art st

the gems glowing with a deep, verdant fire under the halogen lights. It

the glass. The cool surface fel

ra said. Her voice

ooked up, b

ch. How mu

orrowed leather jacket. "That is a Victorian original.

wo hundred and fifty thousand. He had sold her last connec

pered fiercely behind her.

?" Isidora asked. "Jus

rning back to her papers. "We only o

bove the d

ra tu

walk

e walked straight to the manager, who ma

's arm and dragged her

's assistant

he reflection in a lar

oice echoing in the quiet shop. "He wants

she had been pun

"Excellent choice.

"Uh, no. Send it to this address." He handed over

pillar until she was c

r mother's heirloo

. A cruelty so preci

whispered, her hands balling int

Harper's wrist.

ith a cold, hard light. "Not here. Not like this

ooch. The emeralds flashed one last tim

ack card. He took

. She smoothed t

The manager was still smi

Her voice was steady. "When

. "Mr. Ferguson doe

ll," Isidora sa

ut of the store. The su

id to Harper on the sidewalk. "He's goin

ck at the shop. Th