Blood Rubies by Jane K. Cleland Read Free Book Online Page A

table by the windows. She was short and stout, with curly gray hair and light blue eyes. She wore a gray tweed suit I’d find too warm for March.
    â€œGood to see you, Josie. It’s been a while. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
    â€œI appreciate your squeezing me in last-minute.”
    I unwrapped the snow globe and placed it on the table, explaining what Sasha had discovered and why we were concerned about its authenticity. She leaned over the table, peering through the glass.
    â€œWhom did she talk to?”
    â€œHans Micher. An account manager at the company.”
    â€œDid she call the museum?”
    â€œNo. I didn’t know they had one.”
    â€œThey do, and it’s a good one. Even if the curator doesn’t know this object in particular, he should be able to help identify the materials. They maintain a careful accounting of materials and processes used for historical purposes.” She turned the snow globe around slowly, then lifted it to examine the bottom. She gave it a shake and watched the silvery bits spin and settle. She raised her eyes and smiled. “It’s precious, isn’t it?”
    I smiled back. “Yes.”
    Using a loupe and a high-wattage work light attached to the table by a clamp, she examined the snow globe methodically, quarter-inch turn by quarter-inch turn. When she finished, she removed the loupe, turned off the lamp, and sat back. “My gut tells me it’s real. The level of detail and craftsmanship is noteworthy.” She pointed to a town house in the middle. “Take this as an example—the moldings on this unit’s door are carved out, not nailed on. Look at the doorknobs. The metal hasn’t tarnished. They might actually be gold.”
    â€œIf it were you, would you open it?”
    â€œYou have to. Do it in a plastic tub to preserve the fluid. Wear gloves.”
    She stood as I repacked it, then walked me out. I thanked her again and left. I couldn’t wait to tell Sasha the good news.

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    I took the scenic route back, wending my way along the ocean. Dark clouds were blowing in, east to west. The ocean was seaweed green, the waves tipped with white. Just beyond the Rocky Point police station, a one-story building designed to fit in with the affluent community, not stand out, I came upon Timothy and the film crew and pulled to the curb to watch.
    Ana, wearing navy slacks, a yellow and blue patterned blouse, a navy blazer, and black low-heeled boots, was walking next to Chef Ray close to the shoreline.
    I smiled. “I guess it wasn’t all about Heather and Jason after all,” I whispered to the breeze.
    Ray was a big man, and muscular, like a boxer, completely bald, with brown eyes and a crooked nose. I felt a sweet intimacy between them, picking it up solely from their body language since I couldn’t hear their words. They weren’t touching, but I got the sense they might at any moment. One camera was positioned ahead of them and rolled backward on some kind of wheeled platform, another loomed large on the side, standing on metal legs near the top of the dunes, and a third sat on a tractor rolling in from the rear. Timothy walked slowly alongside, as Ana and Ray did a good job of ignoring everything but one another.
    Jason and Heather sat in director’s chairs positioned under a canvas roof alongside the couple who’d shared their table at the Blue Dolphin. Jason was reading on a tablet, shielding the display with his forearm. Heather was staring dreamily or moodily, I couldn’t tell which, out over the ocean. The other couple held hands and were talking quietly, their heads nearly touching.
    â€œCut!” Timothy called. “Ana, Ray, you’re both fabulous.” He turned toward the cluster of director’s chairs. “Jason? Chuck? Let’s get a quick shot of you two.”
    Jason left his tablet on his chair and slipped his phone into his pocket. Chuck