Yours for the Night by Samantha Hunter Page B

the point.
    “We were asked not to talk about it by the police, and for insurance reasons, you understand,” Armando responded. “Why do you ask?”
    “I’m just…reaching out, trying to find any information I can that might shed some light on what’s going on. Maybe if we all shared with each other, we might find some connection, something the police could use—”
    “I am not sure that is a good idea.” The young man started to walk away, and Tiffany put her hand on his arm. She hoped she could use some female charm on him the way female TV detectives did all the time.
    “I’m just another family business owner, like you. If this situation isn’t resolved, my family could lose Jarvis’s,” she risked revealing. “The police don’t seem to be coming up with much, and so I hoped perhaps we could all at least talk to each other, and maybe try to work together to see what we might come up with.”
    Armando softened, and his eyes were warm on hers as he took her hand from his arm and sandwiched it between his.
    “Certainly. There is a café across the street. Let me buy you lunch, and we can talk. Though I don’t know if there’s much I can tell you that would help. We lost several pieces that had been set aside to go to auction,” he explained, opening the door for her as they emerged out onto the sunny sidewalk. “My grandfather despairs of ever getting them back. They have already been sold, most likely.”
    “To go to auction?” Tiffany repeated Armando’s words. They sometimes bought jewels at auctions, but rarely sold them there.
    “We sell many antique and vintage pieces that special collectors, museums and other buyers are interested in. More of our overall revenue comes from those sales than walk-ins at the store, though we do a good business there, too. Vintage is in these days,” Armando said as a waitress who obviously knew him well—and liked him—took them to a table.
    The woman noted their orders, but smiled particularly warmly at Armando.
    “What kinds of things were you sending to be auctioned off?”
    “It was a Hollywood collection my grandfather managed to buy from a private collector in L.A.—some jewelry used in old movies. In this case, three pieces all worn by Marlene Dietrich in her films,” he said with a sigh.
    “I thought that movies used costume jewelry, or paste?”
    “Most do, but some pieces were owned by the actors or actresses, so even those are collectible, but others were loaned by jewelry stores for use in the films. These were real and had their own, intrinsic value, but are even more valuable for the film history.”
    Tiffany sagged, suddenly not hungry. “It’s very sad to lose that history as well as the jewelry itself,” she said.
    “You understand, then,” Armando said, flirting with her again.
    They talked more as they ate, and while Tiffany was glad she’d come and learned more about this aspect of the industry, there were no common denominators between the thefts at this point. Entirely different security, vaults and items stolen.
    “Do you think it’s a job-for-hire of some sort? Perhaps someone is targeting our special collections specifically for some reason?” she asked as they left the café.
    “It’s possible. Many collectors would have liked the pieces that were stolen, but doubtful in your case—how many private owners would want uncut, unset pink diamonds?”
    Tiffany wondered that, too. Was there any chance the robberies weren’t related? Everyone was only assuming they had been carried out by the same thieves.
    “Well, thank you so much, Armando. If I find out anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
    Armando smiled and took a step closer. “Perhaps you could let me know over dinner. Next weekend, perhaps?”
    Tiffany smiled, though she had no interest at all in seeing Armando again. Her mind was still on a particular bodyguard who made Armando, for all of his polish, look like he was playing dress-up.
    “I’m sorry,