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“An expensive piece?” he asked in a thick French accent.
“Yes, I think, very. One of these black diamonds.” She pointed to the case.
“This is my shop,” he said with a hint of pride in his voice. “Anything that is purchased over a certain price has to be signed off by me. Which piece is it?”
“It was some black diamond earrings. I believe teardrops?”
“Ah!” He held up a finger and surveyed the case, pulling out a pair from a velvet display. “They were one of a kind, but similar to these. Very precious.”
“Beautiful,” she said, leaning over to get a better look. “Something like this, it’s expensive?”
“These are not as costly as the others. I do remember them. They also had fine clear diamonds in them as well,” he said, touching them with a pair of forceps. “These are probably only about twenty-five.”
“Dollars?” she murmured, not really thinking.
He shifted. “In Euros. Twenty-five thousand.”
“Oh, right,” she said. And these were the cheap ones. So apparently Franklin Tate wanted to make a peace offering for his wife, and felt he’d needed to spend thousands of dollars he didn’t have to do it.
Or . . . had the earrings been meant for his wife? Maybe they’d been for the redhead. Maybe that was why they were gone.
“You remember the earrings, but do you remember the man who came in to buy them?”
“I did not personally service him, but . . .” He took out a small shoebox-sized file and paged through it. Pulling one card out, he said, “Yes. Franklin Tate. He bought them and a black diamond necklace, as well.”
“Is the associate who waited on him here? Can I ask them some questions?”
He looked up and snapped his fingers at a beautiful Asian woman with long hair and a blood-red sweater. She came over, and spoke softly in French to the jeweler. He nodded and then said to Daisy, “She waited on him. She said he was quite anxious to make the purchase. It seemed he was in a rush.”
That didn’t quite make sense. It wasn’t as though there was a flight he had to catch. “Did he say why?”
He asked the woman, who shook her head and said something in French. The jeweler translated. “She said he didn’t want it wrapped. He said the girl it was for was going to wear it soon.”
“Was there a woman shopping with him?”
This time, Daisy didn’t need the translator to understand. The clerk touched her hair and said,Rouge.
Red hair.
So Franklin Tate had bought an expensive gift for this elusive woman. This Brie, or so Mooch had said.
“Do you happen to have any security footage I could look at? So I can see what this woman looks like?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t be much use to you.”
“Why?”
“Because my associate here said that the woman didn’t come into the store. The earrings and necklace were in the window. She stood outside. She didn’t even try them on.”
“So . . . there’s a chance they really weren’t for her, then?”
The man shrugged and put the earrings away. “I suppose. I can’t say for sure.”
“As far as payment goes . . . it was in order?”
The man looked over the card and nodded. “Oh, yes, of course. He paid in cash.”
She blinked. “Cash. That’s a lot of money to be carrying around. Where did he—”
