Still. If her identity was compromised…she should get those extra passports out of the safe, pack up Rachel, and go. Right now.
Erin waited, and waited, growing visibly impatient. “What?” she prompted sharply. “What are you thinking?”
Tam hesitated for a moment before replying, her voice hard. “I think you and Kev and Connor should take a very long, quiet vacation somewhere. Like an uncharted island in the Pacific, maybe. By private boat. I think Seattle just got a whole lot more dangerous for everybody.”
Erin’s gaze darted nervously to the kitchen entrance to her son, who was flopping and rolling enthusiastically on the carpet in the other room while Rachel giggled her appreciation and egged him on. “Um…” She swallowed, visibly. “Aren’t you overreacting a little?”
“No,” Tam said bluntly. “Not even a little.”
“Damn,” Erin sighed. “I have this verbatim conversation all the time with Connor and my brothers-in-law. Not you, too. Isn’t it remotely possible that a thing can sometimes be exactly what it seems?”
“It is exactly what it seems,” Tam said. “A trap.”
Erin’s mouth tightened. “I can’t keep looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life,” she said rebelliously. “I just can’t. It drives me nuts.”
Tam shrugged. “So don’t complain when you get stabbed in the back, honey.”
“Oh, shut up. You are hopeless,” Erin snapped.
“Literally and figuratively,” Tam agreed. “But come on, Erin. What are the odds? Of all the experts on Celtic antiquities to consult with about this piece, he picks you? Granted, you’re good, and a lot of people know it, but you’re far from the only one, far from the most famous one, and certainly one of the youngest ones. Five years ago you were finishing grad school, doing unpaid internships.”
“But he has consulted other experts,” Erin said stubbornly. “He mentioned some of them. He even talked to my old thesis advisor, who’s the head of the Antiquities Department at—”
“Did you call and corroborate?”
“Yes, I did!” Erin’s voice was defensive. “And yes, he’d been there. They all admired the workmanship of your piece, by the way.”
Tam grunted. “How gratifying. So this guy’s prepared. And awfully motivated, don’t you think? Scouring the world to locate the maker of some obscure jewelry reproductions? It smells, Erin. Like a dead dog.”
“I would hardly call your stuff obscure,” Erin countered hotly. “It’s original and beautiful, and according to this guy, in certain circles, it’s getting famous. Your pieces are hot investments. They acquire value incredibly fast. This Janos told me one of the Deadly Beauty spray hairclips sold at auction for triple what the original owner paid for it, which was no small sum to begin with. If I remember your prices correctly.”
“Janos?” Tam narrowed her eyes. “Never heard of the guy.”
Erin dug out a business card and handed it across the table to Tam. “Valery Janos. He says he has a bunch of interested buyers. He’d like to arrange a private showing. His consulting business hunts objects for people who have too much money and don’t know what to do with it, if I understand correctly. Wish fulfillment, that kind of thing.”
Tam studied the card. “Capriccio Consulting,” she murmured. “Valery Janos. Not an Italian name. Rome, huh? I’ll check him out.”
“I’m sure you will,” Erin murmured. “I sure did.”
The odd note in her voice made Tam look up abruptly from the card. There was a sparkle in her eye and a sly curve to her smile that put Tam on alert. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Erin bit her lip and dropped her gaze coyly. “Oh, I don’t know. He just so happens to be insanely, unbelievably gorgeous.”
“Oh, really?” Tam said slowly.
Erin’s shrug was elaborately casual. “Breathtaking.”
“Bet you didn’t mention that detail to Connor,” Tam said.
Erin rolled her eyes. “What, you think I’m stupid?”
Tam waited for a beat. “Tempted?” she asked sweetly.
Erin’s brow creased in a thoughtful frown. Tension shivered for a moment in the air. Erin broke it with a burst of whispery laughter.
“Um, no,” she said demurely. “Not in the least. I noticed him, of course. I’d have to be dead not to. But I’ve got my hands full, on every level, in the best way possible.” She left a pause. “So…don’t worry.”
“Why the hell should I worry?” Tam snapped back. “What the hell business is it of mine?”
Erin lifted an eyebrow. Tam turned away. The other woman’s occasional razor-sharp perception bothered her. She didn’t like anyone’s gaze to pierce that deep. Nor was she interested in examining why it rattled her to think of Erin’s bond with Connor being threatened.
It actually made her…well, disquieted. Kind of angry.
Please. That was deadly stupid. Alarming, too. It meant she was needing something she couldn’t have. Relying on things that were unreliable by their very nature. Desire, trust, honor. Love. Hah. When a woman started pinning her already shaky psychological security on that kind of crap, she might as well just open her veins and be done with it.
“Truth is, I wasn’t thinking of this Janos for me,” Erin went on. “I was thinking about you.”
“Me?” Shock was replaced by disbelief. The tension in Tam’s chest was released with a harsh bark of laughter. “Oh, please. As-fucking-if.”
“Six four, huge shoulders, barrel chest, chiseled cheekbones, perfect jaw,” Erin said dreamily. “Olive skin, great eyebrows, sexy little accent. Nice cologne, and I’m not even a fan of man scents. Fathomless, liquid black eyes with long, inky lashes. Beautiful, big, manly hands. Deep, mellow voice. Tight ass. Long legs. Eight hundred dollar shoes.”
Tam snorted. “You should have gone into advertising. You’d be richer. All I need right now is some spoiled Eurotrash clotheshorse to waste my time.”
Erin looked hurt. “Hey. All I said was that he was handsome and charming. Hardly a basis upon which to automatically despise him.”
“He’s a man, isn’t he? If he’s pretty, he’ll expect to be worshipped. Who has the energy to kneel down and lick some man’s swollen ego?”
“Hmm.” Erin looked quizzical. “I don’t know. Connor’s handsome, and he doesn’t expect to be worshipped. Except when he…ah, well, never mind.” She subsided, a blush rising up on her face.
Oh, please. The innocent, pink-cheeked milkmaid routine made Tam’s teeth hurt.
“I was thinking, you don’t have a date for Nick and Becca’s wedding, do you?” Erin said. “Why not ask this guy if he’s free on—”
“Erin. You are kidding, aren’t you?” Tam demanded. “Because if you aren’t, you’re scaring me.”
Erin looked at her with that sharp, narrow gaze that Tam disliked intensely. “There hasn’t been anyone for you since…” Her voice trailed off, but they both heard the name. It echoed through their worst nightmares, linking them together. Kurt Novak.
The sharp, instinctive gesture Tam made to ward off evil surprised her. One of her great-grandmother’s tics. One of the few things she remembered about the old woman. She’d died when Tam was small.
Strange. The man was stone dead, after all. No doubts about it. She’d seen pretty much every last drop of his