Will’s mind blazed with the image of a burning house, flames licking up to the roof and the heat so violent it scalded. “That’s not manhood,” he said as the scarred skin on his back seemed to tighten. “That’s weakness.”

Anahera went silent again, and the two of them drove on through empty roads surrounded by trees and tangled undergrowth, past a -glacier--fed river that glittered arctic blue, and in the shadow of mountains that had stood for thousands of years, their peaks capped with snow.

They stopped for coffee midway, but neither one of them was hungry for lunch.

Traffic began to pick up during the second half of their journey, but it was -free--flowing, no breakdowns or delays. They’d made excellent -time—-just over three hours, -forty--five -minutes—-and all too soon were in the heart of civilization and it felt like a bright flashlight shining into the face after the smudged light of Golden Cove.

Too many cars, too many people, too many -noises—-from the construction site on the corner to the teenager banging out a rhythm on an outdoor drum set to the driver gesticulating angrily at another.

“Do you have anything else to do in the city?”

Anahera stirred. “I need to pick up a new laptop. I ordered it online and they’re holding it for me. I didn’t want to risk it coming via courier.”

“Let’s pick that up last. Otherwise, you’d have to carry it around or risk leaving it in the vehicle.” He was too pragmatic to imagine that this being a police vehicle would stop thieves from breaking -in—-some people lived to cross boundaries, the thrill of the act as important as what they might get.

“That works for me. How many jewelers will we be visiting?”

“I’ve got a list of ten.” He stopped at a red light. “That doesn’t include the more -mass--market jewelers. We’ll head there if we strike out at the specialist jewelers and -watchmakers—-even if they didn’t make or import it, they might know who did.” New Zealand was a small country and the jewelers were in a niche industry.

“You sound pretty sure about it being a specialist piece.”

“I woke before dawn this morning. No use doing the patrol in the dark, so I spent the time online, trying to find watches similar to the one gifted to Miriama. Zero results. My gut says it was -custom--made and the ten places I have on my list all do custom jobs.”

“It’s possible it was purchased internationally.”

“I found a tiny koru design in the platinum of the -band—-on the underside, where it locks into the right side of the watch face.” Inspired by the curl of a fern frond, it was a distinctly New Zealand symbol, one that signified new life and creation, growth and change. “That doesn’t rule out an overseas watchmaker, but it lessens the chances.”

He maneuvered around a large roadwork truck. “If the trail does run cold, I’ll do what you’ve suggested and upload the image to the web, see if someone recognizes the design or workmanship.” But first, he’d search closer to home. Miriama’s lover -would—-at the -time—-have had no reason to think anyone would come looking for the origin of the piece.

The lover had also come across as highly possessive and controlling in the journal entries. A man like that would probably want to direct the design process, possibly even supply his own gemstones. Far easier to do that with a local. “Our first stop is a boutique in the city. According to a friend of mine who works in -high--end thefts, the boutique’s known for its discretion as well as the high caliber of its work. You okay to wait on something to eat till after this stop?”

“I’m not the one who’s been up since before daybreak.”

“I’ll fill up at lunch.”

Managing to find a parking space only about five minutes -away—-a miracle in a city lined with orange cones and construction -vehicles—-he got out and the two of them began the short walk to the boutique. The midday sunshine was crisp against their faces, the city buzzing with life, but scars from the earthquake that had devastated it years earlier remained impossible to avoid.

Beside him, Anahera took care not to step on a hairline crack in the pavement that had escaped repair, and he wondered what it must have been like for her to be so far from her friends when news of the quake first broke. “There.” He nodded toward a discreet little shop tucked in between an electronic goods store and a designer clothing boutique. “That’s our first stop.”

36

The jeweler didn’t boast a security guard, but Will spotted two video cameras and an automatic metal grille that could be slammed down at a moment’s notice. He’d bet the window glass was bulletproof and that the staff all had access to silent alarms under the counters. He also wouldn’t be surprised if some of the items on display were beautiful fakes, with the real gems kept in locked safes and only brought out for serious buyers.

Pulling open the heavy door, he walked into the -air--conditioned inner sanctum behind Anahera. The woman who looked up from the other side of the pristine glass counter was an expertly groomed brunette in a maroon dress that hugged her body without being too tight. “Hello,” she said with a warmly professional smile. “How may I help you today?”

Clearly, the clerk had been trained to never judge a customer based on appearance. It was good advice, given what Will knew of the multimillionaires who lived in the region. One had a habit of walking around town in -flip--flops, while another drove a -twenty--year--old junker and dressed like the eighties had never gone out of style.