Blackbird 02 - Dead Girls Don't Wear Diamonds by Nancy Martin Page B

sexual thing that drew them together. She was a victim from the word 'go.'"
    Emma watched me think. "What's up?"
    "I talked with a police detective earlier today."
    "That kid?"
    "Detective Bloom doesn't act like a kid. He wants enough evidence to make Laura's death a homicide case. And he has some incentive for me to help him."
    "Incentive?"
    "He found Grandmama's sapphire on Laura. He'll trade it for information I dig up."
    Emma whistled. "What are you going to do?"
    "I could turn him in for blackmail or coercion or something."
    "But . . ." Emma prompted.
    "I could," I argued. "I could squeal on him."
    "But you'd rather cooperate and avoid opening a scandal, which makes perfect sense, knowing you."
    "Why does that sound insulting?"
    Emma shrugged and had another sip of her beer. "What does the boy detective think you can find out?"
    "Who else Laura stole from."
    "It'll be a long list."
    "It will be shorter if I can narrow it down to just the people who attended the Cooper party Friday night. Would it surprise you to hear Oliver might have paid people to keep quiet about Laura's stealing?"
    "Oliver's not exactly driven snow."
    "Firsthand experience?"
    She shook her head. "I don't do the Viagra set. But he cheated on Annabelle for years. I saw him with one of Mama's friends at the Devon Horse Show one year, in somebody's horse trailer."
    I pushed aside the mental picture before it sharpened in my mind. "Do you know anything about Sidney Gutnick?"
    "That pawn broker?"
    "He's not a pawnbroker. He buys and sells jewelry and silver."
    Emma shrugged. "Sounds like a pawnshop to me. I never met him. Why do you want to know?"
    "I figured he was a good place to start. People have bought and sold valuables through him for decades, and he's a gossip. But I left his place with more questions than I went in with. What about Tempeste Juarez? Do you know her?"
    Emma frowned. "She used to sashay around the polo fields when I played a few years back. She paid attention to the men, not to a kid like me. She had tons of jewelry, though. She a pal of Gutnick's?"
    "To hear him tell it, they're mortal enemies. But I'm not sure that's the truth."
    Emma finished her beer and put the empty can on top of a fence post. She didn't look drunk, but I had begun to worry about her need to have a six-pack within easy reach all the time. Her recent broken arm—and the leg she'd broken more than a year earlier in the car accident that had killed her husband, Jake—were still stiff, I knew. Her injuries caused her to lose the job she'd had with the top-notch professional Grand Prix trainer since she was sixteen. I wondered if she was using beer to deaden her pain. Not just her physical pain.
    "Listen," Emma said. "I'm not crazy about you helping your detective friend. If somebody got furious enough to kill Laura for stealing jewelry, they might get peeved if you start making accusations."
    "I won't accuse anyone."
    Our quiet voices must have calmed Mr. Twinkles because suddenly he gave a snort and came bolting out of the trailer as if fired from a howitzer. Emma dropped her end of the rope, and he went galloping past us and off into the unmowed paddock, kicking up dirt and hunks of weed in his wake. We turned and watched him rocket away from us in the falling darkness. He pivoted at the end of the enclosure and came cantering back, head up and nose to the wind. He looked magnificent.
    I said, "He's really something."
    "He's awfully stupid," Emma replied. "But I like 'em that way."
    "Think you can get him into the barn tonight?"
    "Hell, no," she said with a grin.
    "Want to stick around and order a pizza?"
    Emma's grin deepened into something more lascivious. "Can't. As soon as I figure a way to get my rope off that bad boy, I'm going home to take a shower."
    "With anyone I know?"
    As usual, Emma didn't divulge anything but the most basic details. "A rodeo guy I met at the horse auction. What about you? Mick stopping by later?"
    I avoided her eye. "Not that I