practice with Connie’s son, but it was worth the price.
Why couldn’t his powers of persuasion work as well with Juliana? He’d much rather hear how she’d filled the last six years from her than from a Bureau report.
Glancing at the dash clock, he started Juliana’s car. He usually enjoyed playing seek to the bad guy’s hide, but not this time. Juliana wasn’t a criminal. She was a woman motivated by fear. He would give her space. He would give her opportunity. He would make it safe for her to bare her soul.
But he would take the information any way he could.
He had too much at stake to let the Phantom do all the counting. “Ready or not, Jewel, here I come.”
* * *
Hand over the mouthpiece, Ella whispered to Juliana, “It’s Callie. Do you want to talk to her?”
“I’d better.” Juliana let out her held breath and took the phone. Callie Mercier, her assistant, not the Phantom. But her uneasiness didn’t completely dissipate. Callie was knowledgeable and trustworthy. On the few occasions Juliana had had to take time away from the shop, Callie had handled everything efficiently. Knowing how Juliana prized her privacy, for Callie to call, something had to be wrong. “Is everything all right?”
“I really hate to bother you. You never take vacations, and I know you really need this one, but Mr. Horton was just here and he’s spitting mad.”
Oh, no! She’d completely forgotten about the ring.
Brent Horton was a lawyer, specializing in estate law. He’d sent a lot of appraisal work her way over the years, not to mention the amount of original work he’d commissioned for his three ex-wives and his present fiancée. Brent Horton was extremely generous with his ladies. Other than the ten carat diamond-and-emerald engagement ring she was working on, Juliana had already created several other pieces for this particular fiancée.
“You promised him the engagement ring by today,” Callie continued. “He planned an elaborate scene to propose, and he’s royally pissed the ring’s not ready.”
From Callie’s guarded tone of voice Juliana felt her assistant was leaving something out. “I’ll have to put him off for a little while.”
“He’s made a threat or two,” Callie said. “His face was so red, I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. But…”
“What?”
“He said he helped build your business, and he could help bring it down, too.”
Juliana sighed. Yes, that sounded just like Brent Horton. He was a good client and a generous man, but he wanted things when he wanted them, and was used to getting his way—in and out of court. She’d never let him down before. But with Briana in the hands of a deranged man, and Lucas showing up at the absolute worst time, what could she do?
Her feet were going numb on her again. She twisted a hank of loose hair around her finger. Would she do Briana any good staying home, driving herself crazy with worry? The Phantom, as Lucas called the kidnapper, had said he wouldn’t call before morning, and according to Lucas, he kept his word. The waiting and worrying and doing nothing was cruel. No, she would accomplish nothing, except wear a path into the carpet.
If she went to work, she could possibly appease her best client, and avoid Lucas’s piercing gaze for a while longer. She could worry just as well at the workshop. With something to do, maybe each minute wouldn’t seem like an eternity. She’d be ready; she’d have her calls forwarded—just in case. She snorted. As if this Phantom wouldn’t know where she’d gone.
Glancing up, she caught Ella slicing a pear onto a dessert plate. But if she wasn’t here, and Lucas returned, he might decide to pay the Tiltons a visit. She couldn’t afford for them to meet just yet.
She’d send Ella on an errand of some sort—a complicated one—Juliana decided, and would have to hope she got home in time to prevent her past and her present from colliding. Albert wouldn’t talk—not to a
Why couldn’t his powers of persuasion work as well with Juliana? He’d much rather hear how she’d filled the last six years from her than from a Bureau report.
Glancing at the dash clock, he started Juliana’s car. He usually enjoyed playing seek to the bad guy’s hide, but not this time. Juliana wasn’t a criminal. She was a woman motivated by fear. He would give her space. He would give her opportunity. He would make it safe for her to bare her soul.
But he would take the information any way he could.
He had too much at stake to let the Phantom do all the counting. “Ready or not, Jewel, here I come.”
* * *
Hand over the mouthpiece, Ella whispered to Juliana, “It’s Callie. Do you want to talk to her?”
“I’d better.” Juliana let out her held breath and took the phone. Callie Mercier, her assistant, not the Phantom. But her uneasiness didn’t completely dissipate. Callie was knowledgeable and trustworthy. On the few occasions Juliana had had to take time away from the shop, Callie had handled everything efficiently. Knowing how Juliana prized her privacy, for Callie to call, something had to be wrong. “Is everything all right?”
“I really hate to bother you. You never take vacations, and I know you really need this one, but Mr. Horton was just here and he’s spitting mad.”
Oh, no! She’d completely forgotten about the ring.
Brent Horton was a lawyer, specializing in estate law. He’d sent a lot of appraisal work her way over the years, not to mention the amount of original work he’d commissioned for his three ex-wives and his present fiancée. Brent Horton was extremely generous with his ladies. Other than the ten carat diamond-and-emerald engagement ring she was working on, Juliana had already created several other pieces for this particular fiancée.
“You promised him the engagement ring by today,” Callie continued. “He planned an elaborate scene to propose, and he’s royally pissed the ring’s not ready.”
From Callie’s guarded tone of voice Juliana felt her assistant was leaving something out. “I’ll have to put him off for a little while.”
“He’s made a threat or two,” Callie said. “His face was so red, I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. But…”
“What?”
“He said he helped build your business, and he could help bring it down, too.”
Juliana sighed. Yes, that sounded just like Brent Horton. He was a good client and a generous man, but he wanted things when he wanted them, and was used to getting his way—in and out of court. She’d never let him down before. But with Briana in the hands of a deranged man, and Lucas showing up at the absolute worst time, what could she do?
Her feet were going numb on her again. She twisted a hank of loose hair around her finger. Would she do Briana any good staying home, driving herself crazy with worry? The Phantom, as Lucas called the kidnapper, had said he wouldn’t call before morning, and according to Lucas, he kept his word. The waiting and worrying and doing nothing was cruel. No, she would accomplish nothing, except wear a path into the carpet.
If she went to work, she could possibly appease her best client, and avoid Lucas’s piercing gaze for a while longer. She could worry just as well at the workshop. With something to do, maybe each minute wouldn’t seem like an eternity. She’d be ready; she’d have her calls forwarded—just in case. She snorted. As if this Phantom wouldn’t know where she’d gone.
Glancing up, she caught Ella slicing a pear onto a dessert plate. But if she wasn’t here, and Lucas returned, he might decide to pay the Tiltons a visit. She couldn’t afford for them to meet just yet.
She’d send Ella on an errand of some sort—a complicated one—Juliana decided, and would have to hope she got home in time to prevent her past and her present from colliding. Albert wouldn’t talk—not to a
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