Nathanial lugged Miss Cantrell’s suitcase onto the table next to the video feed and popped open the lid. Nestled inside between Liz’s clothing was a small wooden jewelry box. Roses and a hummingbird decorated the lid and sides. It was delicate and appeared old. A family heirloom?
So far Blake’s information from his confidential informant inside the Santini organization had proved correct—a woman named Elizabeth Cantrell was planning to bring contraband for Santini into Canada via the border crossing in Buffalo, New York.
Blake snagged the jewelry box and lifted the lid. The rough stone necklace he’d been told about lay at the bottom of the box. He breathed out a relieved breath and untangled the necklace, then stretched it out on the table.
Nathanial snorted. “That’s it? Huh. Not what I pictured.”
The stones weren’t pretty and sparkly like polished, cut diamonds, but were still ill-gotten gains from the blood and sweat of people forced into labor in horrible mining conditions in a developing nation. “These gemstones may not look like much, but each one, when polished and cut, will be worth millions. There’s a rumor the head of Venezuela’s most violent gang had the necklace fashioned for his wife as an anniversary gift. Santini won’t get paid if he doesn’t produce the necklace before the date.”
Nathanial whistled. “No wonder Santini’s so hot to get his hands on it.”
“Yes.” Acid churned in Blake’s gut at the thought of Idris Santini. A man who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Santini and his syndicate of smugglers funded an illegal mining operation in Venezuela. Though the authorities had tried unsuccessfully on numerous occasions to shut down the mine, Santini either bought off or killed anyone who endeavored to thwart him.
A joint effort between the IBETs and the current Venezuelan government had tracked Santini’s latest shipment to Miami, then to Canada. But by the time the IBETs team had the intel, the goods and Santini had disappeared.
Until today. Word was that a single, valuable piece had supposedly been stolen by one of his lower level minions to give as a gift to the man’s unwitting fiancée. Blake’s informant on the inside stated that Santini had personally abducted not only his man but the man’s new wife, Ms. Cantrell’s sister, and were holding the couple hostage in exchange for the necklace.
Thus Liz Cantrell was making the trek north.
That the woman hadn’t panicked but had followed the kidnapper’s instructions spoke to her determination. But not involving the police was pure recklessness. Liz Cantrell was no match for the likes of Santini.
Blake’s gut twisted. He hated to think what would happen to Liz and her sister if he didn’t intercede.
After swiping the necklace from the table Blake stuffed it back into the jewelry box, then headed into the interrogation room.
Liz had her back propped against the wall, her arms around her torso as if holding herself together. Her gaze lifted from the floor to him. Her pale complexion and frightened eyes tugged at him. He didn’t make a habit of intentionally scaring women. But he had to make sure she was malleable so when the time came she’d follow his directions without question. If the need arose her compliance could be the difference between life and death.
Her gaze dropped to the box in his hands. “That’s mine.” She pushed away from the wall. “You opened my suitcase.”
He set the box on the table. “That’s what happens when you carry undocumented diamonds.”
She made a face. “Diamonds? What are you talking about?”
He narrowed his focus on her. Did she really not know? Or was she playing him? His informant inside Santini’s operation said she was an innocent pawn.
Maybe.
Blake rarely trusted anyone. Let alone a man willing to sell out his boss.
Or most women.
In his experience women in general made the best liars and broke their promises much too easily. Truth and fidelity were moving targets, not hard and fast ideals.
But they were ideals that he honored.
He’d let himself be sucked in before by a woman to only be disappointed and hurt when the inevitable happened. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Instead he took to heart his father’s motto, never let your guard down.
He shook off the memories scratching at his mind. The here and now needed his attention. Santini was the objective. And this woman standing before him was the means to an end. Nothing more.
Blake had pressed his informant for Santini’s location, but the man was more afraid of Santini than Blake. It was one thing to report a goods transaction and an entirely different one to give the cops Santini’s whereabouts. The informant had bolted, and Blake hadn’t heard from him since. But at least Blake had Liz Cantrell. She would lead him to Santini.
Lifting the lid, Blake grasped the diamond necklace, holding it up for her to see. “This.”
Her eyes widened. “Those are just rocks.”
“No, Miss Cantrell, they aren’t.” He dropped the necklace. It landed on the table with a clatter. Twelve stones, held together by thin gold wire. “Those are uncut diamonds. Illegally trafficked from the mines of Venezuela.”
She shook her head. “No.” A hand flew to her throat. “Oh, no.” Anger clouded her eyes. “Those aren’t mine.”
“Are you telling me you’re carrying them for a friend?” He tsked and shook his head. “Not the smartest move.”
Her lip curled. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She lifted her chin but remained mute. He had to give her props. She had a spine of steel so far. He didn’t know many who’d face him with such bravado, especially women.
He waited, letting the silence draw out. Her expressive eyes revealed her inner turmoil. She was struggling to keep from talking but something held her back.
Was she also more afraid of Santini than Blake?
Picking up the necklace, Blake said, “I’d hate to think you were caught up in something that might land you in jail. Or worse.”
She shivered and licked her lips. “May I have some water, please?”
A stall tactic. It wouldn’t do her any good to put off telling him what he wanted to know, but he nodded. A moment later, Nathanial brought in a small cup filled with water. Liz drank it down as if she was dying of thirst in a vast desert.
Nathanial left the room.
Deciding to try a different approach, Blake sat, giving her the illusion of authority. “We’re here to help you, Ms. Cantrell. All you need to do is trust us.”
“I wish I could,” she whispered.
Ah, her resolve was weakening. Maybe another little nudge. “If you work with us, then there’s less likelihood of going to jail.”
“I have to leave,” she said with an urgency that sent an alert to his senses.
“What’s the rush?” He steepled his hands. “Are you meeting a buyer for the stones?”
Shaking her head, she insisted, “No, it’s not like that.”
She was close to caving. He would get what he wanted from her. “The only way you get out of here is by cooperating. Tell me what it is like. And tell me the truth.”
Rubbing at her temples, she said, “I can’t. He said no police. He’ll kill my sister.”
So