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“Not at the moment.” It was the second cop who answered that time. “But we’re looking.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” Presley muttered. “What’s the Marbury collection of diamonds?” he asked, directing that at Ruby.
She put a picture on the monitor of about a dozen diamonds. “Value is about six million. Wessington doesn’t own them. They belong to a group of investors who turned them over to Wessington’s people so they could be appraised and then resold.”
So, it sounded as if Wessington was simply the middle man on this. Did that mean anything in the grand scheme of this kidnapping? Maybe.
Presley shifted to the cops. “Is Wessington onboard with paying the ransom?”
“Not exactly,” Martinez said.
Presley huffed. “Let me guess. He wants to substitute fakes or inferior stones to try to fool the kidnappers?”
Martinez nodded. “Mr. Wessington has expressed his hope that you’ll be able to rescue his wife and that handing over the decoy diamonds won’t be necessary.”
“That’s a good hope,” Presley said, the sarcasm dripping. “It could get his wife killed.”
He might have had a whole bunch to say about that if there hadn’t been a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Ruby said.
The door opened, and there she was. Billie Cooper. Even though Presley had already steeled himself up to see her, he clearly hadn’t done enough in that particular department.
As usual, she got to him.
Billie was a blast from the past. A trip down memory lane and a pain in his ass all rolled into one. Yeah, she got to him all right because even after the shitstorm two years ago, the heat was still there, waiting to strike and send their lives to hell in a fast-moving handbasket.
“Presley,” she said, his name seeping out of her mouth along with a stream of breath. Apparently, she hadn’t done enough steeling up either.
She was tall, only three inches shorter than his six foot two height, and while she had a wiry build, she also looked tough.
And he knew she could be.
He hadn’t seen her in two years, since that shitstorm, and there had been some changes. Her shoulder-length brown hairwas now cut in a short, choppy, couldn’t care less kind of way that suited more than the polished style of her lieutenant days. It framed that amazing face.
And a black eye.
“I, uh, had a few problems with a noncustodial ex who was trying to take his kids,” she muttered when she saw him studying her. She turned to Ruby. “Billie Cooper.”
“Ruby Maverick.”
She nodded. “My boss speaks well of you.”
Ruby smirked. “Yes, I’ll bet he does.” Apparently, it was the day for sarcasm since Ruby’s comment was doused in it. “Your boss has briefed you on what’s happening?”
“He did on my drive over. Victoria Wessington has been kidnapped, and Presley and I are supposed to do the exchange. Why us?” she asked, volleying glances at everyone in the room.
“We don’t know yet,” Ruby informed her. “But my techs are going through all the cases where Presley and you worked together to see if there are any red flags. I understand that the two of you never worked a kidnapping case together?”
Billie shook her head. “Not directly. We were homicide. The one and only time I recall us getting involved in something like that was when things went south and the hostage was killed.”
“Yes, that investigation is being looked at,” Ruby assured her.
Presley didn’t have to any looking to recall the details. It was the case that had started the shitstorm, and it had ended with a woman dead. And Billie and him in bed for what he supposed was comfort sex.
There hadn’t been a whole lot of comforting involved.
And afterward, there’d been a hell of a lot of payback.