Claire Gulliver #06 - Carnage Goes Coastal by Gayle Wigglesworth Page B

don’t mind, do you? She needs a treat occasionally. I promise to get her back before closing.”
    “Don’t you worry one bit. I’ll be happy to stay until she gets back or the store closes. You two just go and have a good time.”
    Claire fussed and fiddled with some last minute chores and finally she preceded Jack through the front door, pausing a moment to admire the old Cadillac parked in front. “So I guess it’s still running? Tony gave it a checkup a couple of weeks ago. He won’t allow me to forget and he calls if I don’t bring it in on schedule. Every once in a while I think about selling it, but then I remember how much Uncle Bernie loved this car and I feel I just have to keep it and continue to pay for its upkeep.”
    “It’s a great car, Claire. Don’t let it go. It drives like a dream and besides it’s only what, fifty-four years old? And look at it, it’s beautiful. They don’t make cars like this anymore.”
    Claire laughed, shaking her head. “No, I guess they don’t. Tony keeps telling me it’s a classic. He’s got three avid collectors who want first bids if I ever decide to sell. But so far I’ve managed to be too busy to think about selling it, and I confess I love to drive it now and then. It makes me feel special.”
    Jack had put the cream colored rag top down. The pale yellow 1949 Cadillac convertible with the red leather interior sitting at the curb in front of the store was an eye-catcher. The powerful motor purred instantly to life and the car moved smoothly down the street attracting admiring glances as it moved through the little town.
    “So I thought San Francisco. Is that okay with you? Or would you rather shop somewhere else?” Jack asked heading the car toward the freeway entrance.
    “Oh, let’s go to San Francisco. It makes it more of an adventure.”
    “Right, I think they have a Cartier there, don’t they?”
    “They do, but we don’t have to shop at the high end, you know?”
    “Yes, we do. Since I’m finally going to be able to put a ring on your finger, I want to make sure it’s the best money can buy. We’re not going to stint on this, Claire. Do you have some idea of what you’d like? Do you want an engagement ring and band, a band, lots of diamonds, a huge diamond, or what?”
    Claire sat thinking for a few minutes and then as the wind whipped around them on the freeway she said, “Well, first of all I don’t want to go to Cartier’s. I’m a San Francisco girl and I want to shop at Shreve and Company. It’s been on Post Street for about a hundred and fifty years and I’ve drooled over their window displays since I was a young girl. So that’s where I want my wedding ring to come from.
    “And secondly, I don’t want a diamond. I object to spending a lot of money for a stone that’s value has been artificially set by the diamond industry. And frankly, the stories of the cruelty and crime connected to that whole industry makes me balk at supporting it. I’d much rather have a colored stone, perhaps an aquamarine, or an amethyst or,” she smoothed her hair back out of her eyes to peer at Jack, “I think I might like an emerald if we can find one we can afford.”
    “Claire, I don’t want you to even think about price. Today, cost will not be the deciding factor. Today, we’re looking for something we both feel is the perfect symbol of our love. That way every time we see it on your finger we’ll be happy. Okay?” He waited for her nod, then said happily, “Okay, which way to this super jewelry store?”
    “More important than the store, I’ll direct you to the parking garage at Union Square. It’s only a block from the store.”
    Jack and Claire parked in the bottom level of the parking garage built under the park in a space close to the bank of elevators where Jack thought it was safe enough to leave the car. Hand in hand they strolled out to Post Street and turned right toward Grant Street.
    It was a beautiful day, which was San