The Florentine Deception by Carey Nachenberg Page B

next to my car seat.
    No letter.
    I knew I’d had it when I’d left Tom’s place the other night; I’d stuffed it in my pocket, and the pants had been sitting in the hamper ever since our trek to Lister’s house. In fact, they still prickled with thorns from the chaparral.
    I plucked out a burr and stared at it. The moment of reflection fundamentally disturbed me. I’d lost the letter in Richard Lister’s backyard, and that man had found it.
    He’d come after me—he thought I had the Florentine.
    Fuck.
    I picked up my phone and dialed. Steven answered on the first ring.
    â€œDude, I know who broke into Tom and Gennady’s place.”
    â€œWhat? How?”
    â€œThe night we went out to Richard Lister’s house, I lost a letter in his yard.”
    â€œI’m not following—you lost a letter in his backyard?”
    â€œYeah. With Tom and Gennady’s address on it.”
    â€œWhy did you have a letter addressed to Tom and Gennady?”
    â€œIt was addressed to me, but had their street address on it.”
    â€œWhat? Why?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. The point is, I stuffed that letter in my pants when I left their place, and I can’t find it anymore, and the only place I could have lost it was in Richard Lister’s yard. And a few days later, their house is sacked.”
    He hesitated. “You really think that guy found your letter and came after you?”
    â€œIf he thought I had the diamond. Or knew where it was. He might.” I gritted my teeth. “Fuck!”
    â€œAnd you’re sure you lost it in the yard?”
    â€œThere’s no other possibility.” I looked up at the ceiling and considered. “Unless …”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI took a pretty big fall into the chaparral when I jumped the wall to escape. I could have lost it there, or in the gully behind the house.”
    â€œFor both our sakes, let’s hope that’s what happened.” He paused a few seconds. “Alex?”
    â€œI’m thinking,” I said. “Yeah, I guess I could have lost it there.”
    â€œMaybe we should just call the whole thing off.”
    â€œWhat good would that do?” I growled. “If the guy did find the letter, then he’s after me whether or not I decide to stop the purchase. Fuck.”
    â€œYou don’t know that,” he said. “The guy obviously didn’t find anything in Tom and Gennady’s place, so maybe he’ll lay off, think it was a false lead.”
    â€œI hope you’re right. Either way, I understand if you want out, but at this point it’s too late for me. If the guy found the letter, I’m fucked whether or not we stop.” I shook my head. “I’m seeing this through.”
    Steven was quiet for a good five seconds.
    â€œWhat the hell.” He sighed. “You’re my best friend, and hell if I’m going to let you get yourself killed.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œNo. But that never stopped me before.”
    â€œThanks man.”
    â€œJust don’t say a word to Hillary,” he said. “If she had any idea there was any danger at all, she’d kill us both. This guy would be the least of our worries.”
    â€œOh lord. Here we go again,” I said.
    â€œBuckle up.”

Chapter 16
    I spent the next two days holed up in my house, a borrowed pistol from Gennady in hand, peering through my master-bedroom shutters for any sign of a stalker. Both nights, Steven arrived at about eleven—how he managed to con Hillary into this I still don’t know—and we took shifts sleeping and keeping watch. Thankfully, my paranoia was misplaced, and our only visitor was the mailman.
    I’d arranged to meet Regina at ten a.m. that Sunday to do a walkthrough and hand her the rent check. She arrived right on time, and by eleven, I had the keys. An hour later, Steven, Hillary, and I were fed, geared up,