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Lucas turned in at the True Blue complex and drove back to the condos. Golf carts cruised slowly along the road, and golfers were out on the greens enjoying the perfect weather. He followed the road to the right into the complex and found the condo number jotted down beside the phone number. He parked and decided to call the number before he went to the door.
The condo was on the first floor, and he got out and watched the door as he placed the call. No one answered, and he debated whether to leave a message. He shrugged and left his name and number.
The trip hadn’t been a complete bust—at least he’d gotten ice cream.
Five
Carly’s mouth was dry as she carried Noah across the yard to the Bennett house in the late-afternoon sunshine. A flash of white caught her eye, and she smiled to see a little blue heron in the grass across the street.
The egg was safely tucked into one of Noah’s blankets in the diaper bag. She had to be crazy taking such a huge chance with the priceless egg. She’d done some research last night and was convinced the egg was all she suspected. It would take an expert to make the final determination, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Her sisters would demand the egg be sold and the money split between them, and though the contents of the chest had been left only to her, Carly knew she’d do what they wanted. She already mourned its loss when she loved it so much.
Lucas’s bright blue Jeep pickup was in the drive, so he was home from work. She went up the steps and pressed the doorbell. The front door stood open, and she could see through the screen door into the entry where a room opened on each side. The oak woodwork appeared newly redone and glowed with a matte shimmer. A long rug ran the length of the entry past the wide stairway. The guys must be working on redoing their house too.
“Coming!” Ryan’s voice called.
Carly’s heart hitched in her chest. She’d seen him from a distance several times since coming back to town, and her attraction to him still simmered under the surface, though he didn’t act like he felt anything for her.
His dark hair glistened with water like he’d just hopped out of the shower. He wore khaki shorts and a red tee that showed off his muscular arms and chest. She knew the taut muscles came from hefting beams and heavy construction materials, not from visiting a gym.
She wetted her lips and forced a smile. “Hi, Ryan.”
His smile came easily. “This is a nice surprise.” He held open the screen door. “Come on in. I was about to have some sweet tea. Want some?”
“Sure. Um, is Lucas home?”
“Yeah, he just got here and is in the shower. Have a seat in the living room, and I’ll let him know you’re here. He told me he was looking into Eric’s death for you. I think he went to Pawleys Island this morning and poked around.”
His feet pounded up the stairs as she went to the living room and dropped into the rocker. Noah was fussing a little, so she put him on her shoulder and patted his back as she looked around the room. It was a man’s room with leather furniture, no rug on the gleaming oak floors, and nothing on the end tables but lamps. No pictures or decorations of any kind on the furniture or the plaster walls, which were painted a pleasing taupe. It had to have been done recently because the air still held the faint odor of paint. But it was clean and newly redone.
Neither man would have the inclination or time to fussover decorations. It was a utilitarian room and that was enough. She could see a glimpse of the dining room through the large opening opposite where she sat, and it was the same way—no touch of softness. What would the kitchen be like? Maybe a freezer full of pizzas and frozen dinners. Or maybe they mostly ate out. Ryan had never liked cooking when they were dating.
Footsteps came back down the stairs, and she turned toward the entry doorway as Lucas stepped into view. He wore shorts and a tee also, and she was struck by the similarity between the two brothers. Both had dark hair and muscular builds. Both had hazel eyes and aquiline noses, but Lucas was a little taller and carried himself with a confident stride that reminded her of a Marine. He’d never been in the military, but his police training had probably been similar.
Lucas was two years older than his brother. Had he ever been in a serious relationship? He was thirty-two, so it was likely, but she couldn’t quite see those serious eyes smiling with love. His expression always said he was evaluating and searching for a reason to be suspicious.
She shifted her son in her arms and gave an uncertain smile. “I hope I’m not bothering you. I had something I needed to talk to you about.”
He went to the brown leather sofa and dropped onto it. “I was going to come over to your grandmother’s anyway. I spoke to Robinson today, and he gave me permission to poke around. He isn’t following up on your grandmother’s past, so I’ll see what I can find out.” He lifted a brow and nodded at her shirt. “Murdrum? What’s that mean? And yesterday you wore a shirt that readtattarrattat. That’s a tongue twister, whatever it is.”
“Tattarrattatis a word coined by James Joyce inUlysses. It means a knock on the door. I’ve liked palindromes since I was in high school. I love words, especially obscure ones. Palindromes are fun, and they’re a great conversation maker. I collect shirts with them on them.Murdrumis the act of murdering someone in a secret manner.”
“Isn’t all murder like that?”
“You might have a point.” She laid Noah onto her lap to free her hands so she could reach into the diaper bag. “I found some compelling evidence for murder today.”
Her hands shook a little as her fingers touched the smooth porcelain surface of the egg. After glancing around to make sure no one was peeking in a window, she pulled it out and held it up for Lucas to see. “This was covered in red paint and seemed worthless, but I-I think it’s priceless.”
He frowned and rose to take a closer look. “It’s an egg.”
“Not just any egg. I believe it’s one of the lost Fabergé eggs of the Romanov imperial family. It’s worth at least twenty million dollars. Probably more. If the surprise inside could be found, I can’t even imagine what it would be worth. If someone suspected it was in our possession, they might kill to get it.”
His face remained expressionless except for a slight tightening of one brow. “I’ve never heard of Fabergé eggs.”
“In 1885 Emperor Alexander III commissioned Peter Fabergé to create an Easter egg gift for his wife, Empress Maria Feodorovna. She loved it so much that the tradition continued to 1911, both by Alexander and his son. Only the best gold and jewels were used to make them, and each of the fifty eggs was unique. When the Bolshevik Revolution occurred, the eggs were seized. Some were sold and some went into storage. Thereare between six and ten still missing today, including the Hen with Sapphire Pendant.”
“You’re sure this is one of them?”
“As sure as I can be without an expert verification, but I don’t see how it can be anything else. All the expected markings are there. It’s been hidden in that chest for decades.”
