Page 34

Chapter 34

Rocky Outcropping

Haley

Easton and I freeze—the only sound in the room is Calvin’s snoring. “You don’t think...?” We both fight with the voluminous dress, getting it onto the empty bed. Out of the garment bag, it’s even worse than I thought when it was in the bag. I tussle with it, shoving it out of the way, and drop to my knees. Easton’s on the floor too.

“Do you see anything?” I’m reaching under the original bed.

“No. But it’s dark under there. Whatever it was could have rolled under the new bed.”

“Right, I’m going in.” I drop and I inch in, slithering in an army crawl and then patting out in front of me. My knuckles bump into a cloth pouch about the size of my fist. I’ve found something. I pull it to myself. Through the cloth, I can feel something large and hard and some smaller things too. They shift as I grasp the bag. I start back the way I came in, but it’s not as easy. It’s been a long time since I’ve crawled underneath a bed. That’s how I watched scary movies at my grandmother’s house. I can still smell the must and see her mauve dust ruffle.

I hand it out to Easton and push myself the rest of the way out. “Is it the diamond?”

His eyes flick to the package and then to me. He slides it back into my hand. “You open it.”

My heart thuds. It’s heavy, and the surrounding bag screams I’m important! I’m not sure I want to hold a 55-million-dollar diamond in my hand. I close my fingers around the bag. “If this was the reason the Rock Candy was sabotaged, why is it still here?”

“And what’s in the safe? But we’re not going to know unless you open it up, Firefly.”

I clutch it closer to me and step back until my thighs hit the mattress. I sit down on the edge. Then I lay the white bag on the bed and untie the ribbon, holding it shut. It’s going to be the diamond. It’s like the thing is vibrating. Calling out. Inside, there’s a piece of jewelry on top of another bag. I pull out a diamond necklace and two large teardrop earrings.

Easton’s eyes narrow. “Those were my mom’s first real flashy diamonds my dad bought her. I only saw her wear them once. At the wedding of my dad’s business partner.”

He leans over, and I pull out the other bag and open it. I hold up the diamond. It’s stunning. The evening light catches it and sends a pink spectrum over the top of Calvin’s white blanket behind me. It’s magical, but it’s also?—

“A little underwhelming for 55 million dollars?” Easton holds out his hand, and I place it in the middle of his palm.

Fireworks shoot through me. “Exactly. Think of all the good that money could have done. All the schools it could have built, the children it could have fed.”

“You’re very right. But that’s not something Candy ever thought about.”

I shake my head. “Why would Candy put this in her wedding dress bag?”

Easton wraps it back up in the first bag, but he doesn’t put it in with his mother’s jewelry. He places both in the top drawer of the dresser next to us. “I don’t know. But if she told Shayla to stay out of her wedding dress bag, I’m guessing she told Rocky to stay out of it too.”

My brow furrows. “He bought her the diamond. Why would she not want him to know where it was? I mean, you can’t steal something like that. It’s got a name. My college roommate loves jewelry. She spent hours watching videos on crowns and tiaras. They’re not stolen often because you can’t sell them.”

“Unless who you’re selling them to doesn’t care about wearing them. Unless they’re collectors.”

“Right, but why would she want to take it? Rocky already gave it to her.”

“Unless she was planning on leaving him. That would have been 55 million well spent.”

“Really?”

“No. But it doesn’t matter now.” Easton drops into a crouch. “I still want to get into the safe. I just think there’s something in there. Something we should know about.”

“We can keep looking,” I say as Calvin snores. “I think it’s okay to leave him for a while. Your father’s clothes are in here.” I lead Easton across the hall.

“This place is massive. I still haven’t been everywhere.” Easton yanks open the closet doors. His father’s closet isn’t something I’ve even seen. Shayla said Rocky hung up his own clothes. There’s what you would expect for traveling in the South Pacific: a lot of linen, some tropical print shirts—that had been his staple when he was on board. And at the end of the closet, pushed to the side, a tuxedo in a garment bag. “I guess Candy wasn’t the only one planning for a wedding.” Easton pulls it out and tosses it on the bed. The room isn’t finished, but Shayla made the bed. The white duvet still has her signature tight corners in place. Easton unzips the garment bag and pulls out the tux. He searches each of the pockets.

I’m holding my breath while he does. There’s no reason why the key to the safe would be in Rocky’s tuxedo just because the diamond was in the bag with Candy’s wedding dress. “Anything?”

Easton pulls something out of the inside of the breast pocket. “No key. But an index card with the initials R H and a quickly scrawled 5.2 b.”

“His Royal Highness needs 5.2 birds?” I cock a smile at Easton. Mostly because he looks so serious.

“Maybe, but Dad’s business partner, the man who owns the next highest amount in the company, is Roger Harding.”

“As in Rockwell and Harding finance?”

“Yeah, it’s the company Dad started after he made it big with Rockwell Tire.”

“And 5.2 b isn’t about birds.”

“I’m guessing billions.”

“Was Harding trying to buy out your dad? Or was your dad trying to sell him his part of the company?”

“I don’t know. I used to think of Roger as an uncle, and then I grew up. I don’t trust him. He’s been trying to get Dad out of the way for a long time. He’s one of the many reasons why I never wanted to take over the firm.”

“That might have been in his tuxedo forever. It might not have anything to do with Rock Candy at all.” I lean my head on Easton’s arm.

“True, but it hasn’t been in here for long. Dad and Candy came straight from New York City. The house manager at their penthouse... she’s a perfectionist. Dad used to joke that you had to keep your belt fastened or she would strip your clothes off as you walked by to send them out to be cleaned. No way this was in there long. He probably wore it the night before they got on the plane. He’s a creature of habit. He has a dozen tuxedos, but he always wore his favorite one for special occasions.”

“Like getting married.”

“Like getting married, and whatever it was he went to the night before.”

“It’s too bad we can’t figure out where he was the night before they left New York City.” I put my palm out, and Easton hands the card to me. I hold it up to the waning light in the porthole, but I can’t see anything new.

“We might not be out of luck. My dad keeps a paper planner. It’s got to be on board somewhere.”

“The cigar room, with the little desk.” I’m three steps out into the hall and almost to the stairs when Easton calls out.

“I’m going to check on Green.”

I skid to a stop. “Right.” Heat rises up my neck.

“Don’t, Firefly.”

“Don’t what?”

“You don’t have to feel guilty because you are excited about chasing a clue.”

“I’m... It’s kind of a habit.”

“I’m sure. I know Calvin’s fine. I’m just... I was fucking drunk or drunker when I stitched him up, and I want to make sure he’s doing okay.”

“You didn’t look like you were that drunk.”

“Unfortunately, that’s a skill I’ve had too much practice in. The not looking drunk thing, not the stitches.”

“Well, your hands were steady, and it looked like you had done it a hundred times. The stitches were neater than my grandmother’s embroidery.”

“Thanks.” He smiles down at me and peeks into the primary cabin. “He must really be out. He doesn’t normally snore. But then sometimes it’s like he never sleeps at all. He’s always on the watch for danger. It’s horrible what happened to his foot, but I’m glad he’s sleeping.”

“Yeah, the sleep will do him good.”

Easton feels Calvin’s forehead. “No fever. Let’s let him rest.” We close the door and head up to the main salon.

I haven’t been in the cigar room since we got back on board. “Your dad had the Rock Candy built custom, but the entire time he was on board, I never saw him smoke a cigar.”

“He gave it up a while back. But I’m sure he put it in the plans with the intention of using the yacht for meetings. You know, that’s one of the good things Candy did for him. She hated cigar smoke.”

“No one’s all bad.” Not even my ex.

Easton cocks his head at me. “She was darn close.” He opens the seal of the door. And it’s humid all right. “Damn, that’s like a furnace blast.”

The computer and papers that Rocky had out on the desk aren’t there anymore. But then, the yacht was more like a sailboat with its stabilizers gone. We could really have tipped over because of the imbalance of the fuel and water tanks with them down. The desk has even slid to the far wall. The leather sofa hasn’t moved, most likely because it’s latched in place. The two leather wingback chairs are lying on their sides as well. Easton picks up one, and I get the other one. There are papers underneath the one I picked up.

“Do you see a little black book? That’s what Dad uses as an agenda.”

We both crawl around the floor gathering computer printouts. Under the sofa I see his missing laptop, but it’s so far under that with the sofa attached to the floor, I can’t reach it. “His laptop is under there.”

“It’s out of battery for sure and password protected.” Easton’s straightening the papers.

“I don’t see the agenda, though.”

“If his laptop’s in here, it’s got to be here somewhere.” Easton pulls the desk away from the wall. There’s a lot more paper there. We gather it up, making a pile on the desk.

“I didn’t see his agenda in the bedroom, either. I would have remembered it from when we searched the primary the first time.” I sit on the leather sofa. It’s like butter—well, hot melted butter. The faster we can get out of this room, the happier I’m going to be.

Easton’s going through the papers.

“What are all those?”

“End of the quarter reports on both Rockwell-Harding and Rockwell Tire. But something’s off. I had a copy of these reports... well, not these reports. One of them isn’t correct.”

“What’s off?”

“In my copy, Rockwell Tire was doing great. Earnings were up. Like, way up. In this one, the numbers are the reverse. It makes Rockwell Tire look like a piece of shit.”

“Which one’s doctored?” I lean forward, looking at the spreadsheets.

“I... I don’t know.” Easton flips from sheet to sheet.

And I get a flashback of Rocky sitting right where I am, doing the same thing, only with two fingers of his favorite scotch next to him on one side and the stack of papers on the seat beside him. I slide my hand between the cushions. My fingertips hit something hard, and I pry it out. “Is this it?”

“Fuck, yes.”