Chapter 13 June #2
Even when exams loomed. Even when one of them had been in a foul mood, and the other had dragged them out anyway. Friday nights had belonged to that little restaurant, a cheap bottle of wine, and the illusion that the rest of the world could wait until Saturday.
“It even smells the same,” Holt said.
“It really does.” June glanced around. “But I think most good Italian restaurants have the same aroma.” She gave a soft laugh. “In fact, it’s how I judge a good Italian restaurant.”
“You’re right,” Holt said, and there was that slow, sexy smile that had always done mad things to her pulse.
Their menus arrived, and with them came just enough distraction to let June get her breathing under control again. They ordered easily, almost without discussion. A dish for him, a different one for her, and a glass of wine each. It shouldn’t have startled her how natural that felt. But it did.
Once the server had gone, they sat for a moment in companionable silence, sipping their wine.
June had to bring her traitorous emotions under control and center on the meeting. She thought about what she’d noticed back at the inn when Margo asked Holt about the bracelet. And wondered again about his careful answer.
“That meeting was a good start,” June told him, watching him as his eyes lifted to hers.
“It was,” Holt agreed and took a sip of wine.
She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing.
“What weren’t you telling Margo back at the inn?” June asked him. “About the bracelet?”
His gaze sharpened at once. June leaned back slightly, though she kept her tone even. “And why didn’t you mention you’d gone to speak to your mother about the bracelet and the jewelry set?”
For a second, he said nothing.
Then he set down his glass.
“I did ask her.” Holt leaned back, turning his glass.
June waited.
“I told my mother that the bracelet had shown up,” Holt said. “She was shocked. Truly shocked. My mother said she thought it was long gone and that she’d all but forgotten about it.”
“Did you tell her it had turned up at a crime scene?” June took another sip of wine, not really tasting it as she concentrated on their conversation.
“Yes.” Holt nodded.
“And?” June set the glass on the table and leaned forward on her elbows.
“My mother said she couldn’t tell me why it would end up at a crime scene. So I asked her why she and Uncle Abe never reported the set missing.” Holt pushed his glass aside and also leaned on his elbows, drawing closer.
June breathed in and caught the familiar scent of his cologne, which only made her already fluttery tummy a little more ticklish.
“What did Mina say to that?” June’s eyes widened curiously as she fought to control her senses that were being affected by how close they were.
“She went quiet. Then she asked if the whole set had turned up.” Holt’s voice dipped and was slightly rough as his pupils dilated slightly.
“What did you tell her?” June swallowed, trying to keep her mind focused on the conversation.
“That it was only the bracelet.” Holt’s eyes held hers, and she felt like she was being pulled into the void.
“Did she answer the insurance question?” June asked.
“She told me that back then there had been a run of jewel thefts in the surrounding towns and at the Grand Sandpiper Hotel. One set belonged to a visiting royal family and was considered priceless.” Holt lifted his glass without moving back.
June blinked. “Oh, wow.”
“That,” Holt said dryly, “was more or less my reaction as well. Especially when I learned it was thought to have been the work of a cat burglar.”
“A cat burglar?” June spluttered, her eyes even wider in amazement. “Oh, wow. No way!”
“You sound just like my son.” Holt snorted at her reaction. “They are not something to romanticize.”
“It is quite cool, though,” June said before she could stop herself.
Holt gave her a pained look and rolled his eyes.
She grinned despite the seriousness of the subject.
“Oh, come on. How intriguing is that? A real cat burglar in Sandpiper Shores? You’d love to catch a cat burglar,” June taunted.
“I love catching criminals,” Holt reminded her. “It’s kind of my job, and the last time I looked, cat burglars were criminals. So yeah, of course I’d love to catch one.”
“You’re just no fun.” June sighed and shook her head at him. “I bet Rad said he’d love to find a cat burglar.”
“Yup. And reacted pretty much the same as you are right now.” He chuckled before reluctantly admitting. “All right. I suppose it is a little unusual and would be a unique case.”
“I knew it!” June smiled into her wine.
Then his expression grew serious again.
“But seriously, back to the jewels,” Holt continued the story from his mother.
“The FBI became involved because they’d heard through a source that a few families in Sandpiper Shores were about to be targeted.
There was black-market demand for rare diamonds at the time, and my family’s set was on the list. So they decided to use it as bait to catch whoever was behind the thefts.
My mother and Uncle Abe agreed to help.”
June felt herself leaning in farther now, her fingers accidentally brushing his. She quickly pulled back a little.
“Sorry,” she said hastily.
Holt didn’t say anything, nor did he move.
June suddenly became aware of how close they were.
Their glasses near each other. The familiar angle of their bodies as they leaned in to talk.
It was exactly the way they had once sat over shared meals, private jokes, and long conversations when they were married and in love.
In love.
The thought hit her so suddenly and so hard that her heart seemed to slam against her ribs.
Her eyes met Holt’s.
For one dangerous second, the whole room blurred.
Oh, no! June’s mind reeled. She had developed feelings for Holt again. She swallowed as a voice at the back of her mind whispered, No, you never stopped loving him.
The realization was so stark, so complete, that it felt less like learning something new and more like finally opening a door she’d been bracing shut for years.
Panic fluttered through her chest.
June sat back too quickly and grabbed her wine, taking a larger sip than she intended. The movement made her feel clumsy, obvious, and exposed.
“Please continue,” June said, and heard the slight hoarseness at the end of her own voice.
Holt watched her for one unreadable beat, then went on.
“The FBI had a replacement of the jewelry set made. A very good one. It was still worth a great deal of money, and was heavily insured; it had to be able to pass as real.”
“Which obviously worked as the thief took the bait,” June murmured. “Because they stole the entire set.”
“Yes.” Holt’s voice changed as he said it, darkening with old feeling. “It was during the last days when Carly had been brought back to Sandpiper Shores to be made comfortable.”
June’s chest tightened as she remembered those days and watched helplessly as her best friend faded away.
“I remember.” June swallowed the lump burning in her throat. That was not a time she liked to remember. Carly’s final days. “The tea party your mother hosted for her was when it was taken.”
He nodded and took a long sip of his drink. June could see he, too, didn’t like dredging up those days.
“But why wasn’t there a public police report?” June asked.
“There was one,” Holt told her. “It was just kept under wraps. It was summer. My grandmother and uncle used the excuse that they didn’t want to incite panic among visitors.”
“Sounds realistic,” June said.
“Then weeks became months, and months became years.” Holt twirled the wine glass on the table. “And the thief vanished after stealing my family’s fake heirloom set, and the jewels never resurfaced. According to the FBI report, the thief was also never seen again.”
June’s eyes widened. “Where is the real set?”
“In a bank safety deposit box with the rest of the family’s valuables,” Holt replied.