The Florentine Deception by Carey Nachenberg Page A

waited a few seconds, then tapped me on the shoulder. “Alex—who was that?”
    â€œSorry.” I focused back on Steven. “Yeah, it was Tom. Somebody broke into his house.”
    â€œShit.”
    â€œYeah. He lives a few miles from here. I’m going to head over. Do me a favor and pick up the tab for my food. I’ll call you later.”
    I arrived at Tom and Gennady’s place ten minutes later.
    The house was in shambles. Every last cushion, pillow, and mattress had been slashed, their batting removed and strewn in cloud-like tufts. All the closets had been tossed as well. Everything—literally everything: clothes, suitcases, shoeboxes—had been removed, scoured, and tossed. Even the vacuum cleaner bag had been slashed and was hemorrhaging dust.
    â€œYou okay?” I asked Tom.
    â€œYeah, whoever broke in is long gone.” He gazed down at his watch and sneered. “I’m just waiting for LA’s finest to arrive.”
    â€œDid they take anything?”
    â€œI don’t know.… Not that I can tell.”
    â€œSo then why—”
    â€œI’ve got no idea. It’s not like we have any expensive hardware here. No cash. No drugs.” He shook his head, then said, “Gennady’s going to blow a gasket.”
    â€œSorry, man.”
    â€œIt’s okay. Nothing to do about it now.” He sat down on the curb.
    â€œYeah. Well, hopefully they can lift some prints or something.”
    â€œI’m not holding my breath. Speaking of that, I need a smoke.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, removed one, and shoved it into his mouth.
    â€œThose are going to kill you.”
    â€œThat’s what Sheila always used to say.” He lit the cigarette and took a puff. “Speaking of Sheila. What did she have to say?”
    â€œSheila?”
    â€œThe letter I gave you the other day—Sheila’s letter from India.”
    I’d completely forgotten her letter given the exploits of the other night; in fact, I had no idea where I’d left it. It was probably still in my jeans.
    â€œNo idea. I haven’t read it yet. Sorry.”
    â€œNo problem. I was just curious.” Tom took another drag, then stood up. “Here they are.”

Chapter 15
    Four hours later, I jumped in the shower, closed my eyes, and relaxed under a near scalding stream of water. I did some of my best thinking in the shower, and the events of the last few days had given me plenty to reflect upon. Somehow, deep inside, I knew the diamond was in Lister’s house. And the challenge of finding it made me feel alive. More alive than I’d felt in years. I’d forgotten what it was like. The rush of the challenge. I craved the challenge. I decided then that no matter what happened, I’d see this through.
    Toweling off, I noticed the LED on my smartphone blinking. I pulled up my voicemail app, tapped the top item on the list, and wedged the phone against my ear with my shoulder.
    â€œHi Alex. It’s Regina Flowers. I’ve talked to the estate trustee and he’s willing to let you move in early if you’re willing to pay rent until escrow closes. The rent will be ten thousand per month, prorated of course, for the twenty-three days you have left in escrow.” A pause. “Give me a ring and tell me what you want to do.”
    That was one problem solved. I tossed the phone onto my bed, and, after failing to find any clean pants in my closet, grabbed the comfy jeans I’d worn the other night from the top of the hamper. Which reminded me—I still hadn’t read the letter from Sheila.
    I fished around in my back-right pocket and came up empty; the left pocket wasn’t much better, producing nothing but dried leaves. Overwhelmed by momentary obsession, I dug through my laundry pile and then bounded downstairs to excavate the strata of receipts, wrappers, loose change, and paper napkins in the crevice