Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [30]
After the death of her only child the previous year, Greer’s longing for roots had driven her to search for family until she had found Sean. Greer had traced her brother through the foster system—the records of which were often missing—tricked him into a reunion he hadn’t wanted, then through the sheer force of her will had made him believe they could be a family. Maybe they could still be. He wanted that, or at least thought he did, for her sake if not for his own. He’d been alone for so long that he wasn’t sure he understood what the word family really meant. He wasn’t sure either if what he felt for Greer could be called love, but he wasn’t about to let anyone use her big heart to hurt her. Now she was elated to have found what she believed was another of her long lost siblings. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t as thrilled as she was. As far as he was concerned, Ramona might or might not be the real deal.
He rubbed his temples, then forced himself to put it aside. He had work to do.
He reopened the file at the spot he’d marked earlier and resumed reading the witness statements.
“Well, shit,” he said aloud.
Barely a week before the attack on Amanda, Derek England had called the Broeder police department to report that Archer Lowell had, on three separate occasions, threatened his life.
Complainant alleges that Archer Lowell told him that he had “a bullet with your name on it.” See Incident Report 1497-02, and companion file 1554-02.
Sean stared into space for several minutes, pondering the possibilities, before closing the file and turning out the light.
At dawn tomorrow, he’d be at his desk, looking over the cross-referenced file on the incident involving Derek England. When the warden pulled into his parking space at the prison in the morning, Sean Mercer would be waiting for him, and by then he’d know all there was to know about Archer Lowell.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
“ ’bout time you showed up.” Iona McGowan poked Amanda in the middle of her back.
“Oh, hey.” Amanda turned, smiling. “I had trouble finding a place to park. I thought you said this sale was supposed to be a small one.”
“The auctioneer running it said he didn’t expect a lot of traffic, since the estate insisted on holding the sale on the last day of the month, which just happened to fall on a Monday, which, as you know, is not the most popular day of the week for sales like this. However, there’s reputed to be some Chippendale furniture that’s top-of-the-line. That’s expected to draw the most interest.”
“If the big guns are here for the furniture, maybe there won’t be much competition on the items we’re here for.”
“I wish. In my first hour here, I ran into no fewer than seven other jewelry dealers. Including your friend, Marian.”
“Marian is here?” Surprised, Amanda looked around the large tented area where the offerings were displayed on long tables, with certain items housed in glass cases. Anyone wishing a closer look at an individual piece had to request a special showing from one of the auctioneer’s assistants.
“She was an hour ago. She mentioned there were some miniatures she was interested in as well, and I think I heard someone say that all of the artwork was in the house. She might have gone inside.”
“Well, there are some interesting pieces here, don’t you think?” Amanda scanned the jewelry displayed on the long table.
“Most of this will go intact for resale. There are a lot of nice estate pieces. Lots of excellent silver—lots of art deco pins. Lots of high-end platinum and diamond pieces in that case over there, the one where the guard is posted. But, so far, not a lot of what I’m looking for.”
“I think I saw a large brooch with some stones missing a few tables down. Amethysts.” Amanda frowned, trying to recall exactly where she’d seen the piece.
“Oh? Maybe I should take a look. I have amethysts in mind for a ring I sketched out just last week.” As a jewelry designer, Iona often scoured auctions and estate sales for quality gems that she could reset in her own