He handed over a piece of paper. On it was written an address; below that the words: The koru paired with the minuscule ruby embedded in the back is her trademark.

38

“This is it.” Will brought the SUV to a stop on a leafy suburban street, outside a white villa fronted by a manicured lawn and the bare limbs of dormant roses. “Your laptop should be safe enough to leave. This is an exclusive area, no street crime to speak of.”

“Did you already have this place on your list?”

“Yes. We were going to hit it last.”

Anahera glanced at the other side of the street, her eyes on a new build that had been made to match the style of the older homes. A few more years, Will judged, a little more age on the plantings around it, and it would lose that unpolished new shine, begin to truly blend in.

“It doesn’t look like the jeweler advertises.” Anahera turned back to the villa. “How did you find out about her?”

“I’m a detective.”

A hint of a smile on her face. “Touché.”

Will wasn’t expecting the smile, or how beautiful she was when the light hit her eyes. Getting out of the vehicle without replying because he had no idea what the fuck to do with his response to her, he met her by the villa’s small white gate. Her smile was gone, her face back to its usual difficult--to--read state, and her hands stuffed into the pockets of her anorak.

Going through the gate and up the drive lined by those roses that appeared dead, he knocked on the front door. The woman who opened it was sixty and well preserved, her skin a smooth, unblemished white as a result of a liberal dusting of powder and her eyes an acute blue, her silkily white hair pulled back in an elegant knot. She wore a string of small pearls against a -long--sleeved -knee--length dress in a dark navy wool. “Yes?”

“Siobhan Genovese?” Will held up his identification.

The woman took his ID, scrutinized it carefully. “If you wouldn’t mind,” she said, “I’ll ask you to wait here while I verify that you are who you say you are.” She shut the door in their faces without waiting for an answer.

“Not the trusting type.” Anahera’s tone was -bone--dry.

“If she has the kind of gems I suspect she has in there, that she even opened her door is surprising. As is the fact she doesn’t have a security grille. On the other hand, not many people know she exists.”

One minute, two, before the door opened again.

“Thank you for waiting,” Siobhan Genovese said. “Please do come in, Detective Gallagher.” A questioning glance at Anahera. “I assume you can vouch for this young woman?”

“Yes.”

Apparently satisfied with that, Siobhan Genovese led them into a beautifully appointed living room, the colors shades of blue and gray. It was the kind of tasteful and quietly wealthy arrangement with which Anahera had become intimately familiar in Edward’s London home and in the homes of his friends.

To be fair to her gifted liar of a husband, he’d told her she could redeco-rate as she liked, but Anahera had hesitated over even the heavy damask curtains she’d hated.

God, she’d been so young.

So conscious of her -poverty--stricken past and lack of knowledge about the moneyed world in which she found herself, a lone Māori girl far from a thundering turbulent sea that sang a song of home and of grief both.

“Please sit,” Siobhan said, taking a seat of her own in a lush gray armchair with curved edges of a dark gold that bore the patina of age. “How may I help you?”

Will told her why they were there before handing over the watch. “I know this is one of yours,” he said quietly in that way he had, so that you felt as if you were the entire focus of his attention. “What I need from you is the name of the buyer.”

Siobhan Genovese examined the watch with care, running her fingertips over the glittering hardness of the blue stones that edged the face, then flipping it over and brushing her thumb across the tiny ruby embedded in the back. “Very few people recognize my signature,” she said as the much larger ruby on her right ring finger shone bright as fresh blood. “I handmake all of my pieces, which means there aren’t many around for people to compare.”

Will shook his head, the action gentle. “My sources are mine, but I will tell you that you do stunning work.”

Frost in her responding words. “Part of the reason I’m still in business despite my astronomical prices and slow production rate is that I value my clients’ privacy.”

Taking the watch back, Will said, “A young woman is missing.” He held those searing blue eyes. “Someone you know gave her this watch. You need to tell me the identity of that person.”

“If I ask you to get a warrant?” was the soft rejoinder that held a steely will.

“I’ll do -it—-but such things have a way of going public. I’ll need to list your address and why I’m seeking the warrant.”

“That could be counted as a threat, Detective.” Siobhan crossed one leg over the other.

Watch now safely stored in the inner pocket of his jacket, Will leaned forward with his forearms braced on his thighs. “I have no desire to play a game of -one--upmanship, but I’m looking for a young woman who doesn’t deserve to be gone. If you get in the way of that, I won’t hesitate to take whatever steps are necessary, no matter how messy.”