Amber Beach (35 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Lowell

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Amber Beach
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“Find the panel from the Amber Room that Kyle Donovan stole in order to…”

“My brother didn’t steal anything!”

Resnikov gave Honor a hooded glance and a smile that was no deeper than the enamel on his teeth. “Of course. Forgive me. I will modify my request.” He looked back at Jake, who was closing his suitcase. “Find the panel of the Amber Room that was hidden in the shipment that Kyle Donovan drove from Kaliningrad to Russia. The panel is intended to be a bona fide for the sale of the entire room. I believe sixty
million U.S. dollars was mentioned as a beginning price in
the auction.”

Honor made a startled sound.

“What makes you think I didn’t steal the amber panel and set Kyle up to take the blame?” Jake asked blandly.

“You?” The Russian laughed. “You are too – how is it said? – honorable as a long day?”

“As honest as a day is long.”

“Yes.” Resnikov nodded quickly. “That is it precisely. Even if you were less honest, betraying a friend is not your
style.”

The Russian’s certainty irritated Honor. “Just how long
have you known Jake?”

“Many years, both as ally and, shall we say, competitor. I have intimate experience with his lack of desire to betray friends.” He looked back at Jake. “What do you say?”

“Whose interests do you represent?” Jake asked.

“The amber you will receive has no blood on it. Each piece was dredged from lagoons behind Samland Peninsula.”

“Recently?”

“No. Many museums donated pieces to the owner who
had this box made.”

“‘Donated,’ huh? Nice of them.”

“The Soviet Empire was once quite large and wealthy.” Resnikov shrugged. “Now it is smaller and much poorer.”

“It happens.”

For a moment longer Jake looked at the incredible pieces of art that had been carved in reverence and awe by human hands so long, long ago. Slowly he reached out, closed the lid of the box, and fastened its gold catch.

“No thanks, Pete. I only work for one friend at a time.”

Resnikov went very still. “I cannot believe that you are part of Kyle Donovan’s scheme.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why do you refuse to work with me? Our countries are no longer enemies.”

“It has nothing to do with politics.” Jake’s big hand closed around Honor’s. He lifted her cool fingers to his lips. “I’m working with Miss Donovan. We’re… very good friends.”

She couldn’t hide the shiver of response that went through her as his breath warmed her skin. Nor could she hide her relief.

Until that instant, Honor hadn’t known just how alone she would feel if Jake left her to search for Kyle by herself.

“You do not have to answer me tonight”, Resnikov said through tight lips. “Think about it for one day. Do not let your stiff neck rule your mind, Jacob. You are not strong enough to own the Amber Room.”

“I don’t want to.”

The Russian looked at Jake for the space of four long breaths, then nodded, believing him.

“In that event, I have an alternative suggestion”, Resnikov said smoothly. “Take your lovely
friend
to Paris or Rome or London at my expense. Stay for at least a month.” Deliberately he opened the box of amber once more. “No matter your decision after that month, keep these as a small token of our friendship.”

Tucked among shadows, ancient amber gleamed with time and mystery and the yearnings of people long dead.

Jake stood up, pulling Honor with him. “It won’t be any different tomorrow. No sale and no time-outs. Do you understand?”

Slowly Resnikov nodded. “And you, J. Jacob Mallory, do you understand?”

“You can bet your life on it. Say good-bye, Honor.”

Jake handed her the suitcase, grabbed her arm in his left hand, and headed for the back door.

“When you change your mind”, Resnikov said clearly, “I can be reached at the Ana Curtis Hotel.”

“I won’t.”

“I believe you will. My employers can be very persuasive.”

Jake kicked the chair from beneath the door handle and pulled Honor out into the alley. She didn’t realize he was hold ng a gun down along his right leg until he let go of her, pulled the truck keys out of his pocket with his left hand, and tossed them in her direction.

“Drive.”

For once she didn’t argue.

 

17

 

“Turn here”, Jake said. “We’re going to my cabin.”

“You maybe”, Honor said, ignoring his instructions, “but I’m going back to Kyle’s cottage.”

He turned his head to look at her. Her stubborn chin was tilted up, as though to meet the darkness head-on.

“Allow me to explain what happened back there”, he said softly.

“I was there, remember?”

“Your body was. Your brain wasn’t, or you would know how silly you sound talking about going alone to Kyle’s cottage.”

Honor’s instincts told her that Jake was right, but she had no intention of sharing that gut feeling with him. She felt too off balance to trust herself to keep her distance if he reached for her in the darkness of a shared cottage. Or if he didn’t.

“Resnikov believes you won’t betray me”, Honor said. “But then, he doesn’t know what happened, does he?”

“What happened is that I spent the past hour examining some world-class amber artifacts, artifacts that…”

“I was there, remem…”

“… could only have come from Russian state museums. That means one of several things. Pete could be representing the official government in an official, but covert, capacity. He could be tied into the branch of the Kaliningrad
mafiya
that controls, or hopes to control, the mining and distribution of amber in the Baltic States. He could have stolen the pieces we saw tonight and hopes to bribe me with them in order to get his hands on even more valuable goods.”

“Like the Amber Room?”

“Or information about who stole it and how it was smuggled out of Russia and, most important, why.”

“Greed”, she said succinctly.

“Of course. But greed for
what?
The amber itself? Money? Revenge? Political power? Pete could be after any or all of them. He’s neither timid nor stupid.”

Honor glanced quickly at Jake. In the pale light washing between clouds, there wasn’t anything inviting about his expression. He looked as remote as midnight. Uneasiness flickered through her. This was the Jake she didn’t know, the one who could hold a gun with the safety off and every intention of pulling the trigger if he had to.

“Who do you think stole the amber?” she asked.

“Kyle signed for the shipment and drove it out of Kaliningrad. I traced him as far as Russia before Donovan International started slamming doors in my face.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what I said. Donovan International has more pull than I do. They didn’t want me asking questions.”

“That’s ridiculous. We want to find Kyle as much as you do. More. We love him.”

“Yeah. That’s why your family doesn’t want me to find
him.”

“Look”, Honor said through clenched teeth, “Archer told
me that the evidence against Kyle was just a bit too pat to believe. As if he had been set up.”

“Maybe he wasn’t very clever about what he was doing.”

“Why can’t you believe that he might be innocent?”

“Because that would make me guilty. No thanks, buttercup. I’m not hanging for your brother’s sins.”

“Couldn’t someone else have stolen the damned panel and hidden it in with the legitimate stuff? Why does it have to be you or Kyle?”

Jake muttered something under his breath. He looked in the mirrors for the tenth time in two minutes. Still no one following them. He flicked on the safety and put his gun in the glove compartment.

“Your brother was in lust with a Lithuanian freedom fighter – or terrorist, depending on your politics.”

“Lust? Love is a four-letter word, just like the others you use. You can say it. Your tongue won’t rot.”

“Crap.”

“That’s another four-letter word”, she agreed coolly. “Unlike some men, Kyle is capable of love as well as lust.”

“Is that another shot at me?”

“It’s a fact. Take it and tuck it.”

“Consider it tucked. Now here are a few facts for you. You aren’t going to like them any more than I liked being set up to take Kyle’s fall.”

Honor’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“I own a company called Emerging Resources”, Jake said. “The major part of my business is advising First World corporations on how to work with the Russian Federation, which is teetering between Second World status and the toilet.”

She threw him a quick look. He was watching the mirror on the passenger side.

“With intelligence and sweat and luck”, he said, “Russia can be kept from sliding into fiscal and social chaos – and dragging a big chunk of the world down with it. Hard currency is
one key to any country’s survival. In Kaliningrad and Lithuania, I ended up as an unofficial adviser on how the government could get the most hard currency out of their amber. Do you understand the difference between hard and soft
currency?”

“A hard currency can be traded for any currency in the world”, Honor said tightly. “A soft currency can’t. Outside the country that issued it, soft currency can be less valuable than
good toilet paper.”

“You’re a Donovan”, he said, smiling thinly. “You understand international business. Without hard currency to buy goods on the world market, not much is possible for Russian Federation countries but charity, poverty, stagnation, and ultimately revolution. Sensible people know it and design national policies accordingly.”

“So where does theft and the Amber Room come in?”

“Not under sweet reason, that’s for sure.”

As Honor turned onto Marine Drive, clouds swiftly ate the light, leaving behind a deeper gloom.

“The Amber Room comes under greed, revenge, and politics”, Jake said. “For Russia it’s a symbol of Nazi greed, Russian blood, and the agony of World War Two, plus the greatness of a czarist Golden Age that Russians are afraid they’ll never know
again.
Communism gutted the economy and the people’s spirit worse than the czars ever did.”

Honor remembered the intense conversations she had had with the Donovan when she first suggested that she and Faith do business outside of First World countries. He hadn’t been thrilled, despite the fact that the Donovan males were doing
just that.

“Dad says pretty much the same thing”, she said. “It’s the one thing he and Archer agree on. But why would the Russian government steal its own Amber Room?”

“Same reason the Italian mafia stole one of Italy’s great paintings – The
Nativity
by Caravaggio. Competing interests. Crime and legitimate government may overlap, but they aren’t the same. Yet.”

“You said something about Lithuanian terrorists. What would they want the Amber Room for? To swap it for arms?”

“That’s one possibility. If they were really smart, they would use it as a lever to pry themselves farther apart from Russia and get their own currency, a real rather than a toothless local government, real autonomy, that sort of thing. Unfortunately, right now Russia can’t afford to turn loose any more pieces of its former empire without inviting total collapse.”

“What about the woman? What’s her interest?”

“Marju?”

“No. The one in the red coat.”

“Oh. That’s Ellen Lazarus. We used to work for the same outfit.”

“The U.S. government?” Honor asked evenly.

“Part of it. Nobody works for all of it, not even the president. As for Ellen, it’s simple. She wants the Amber Room.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Guess.”

“Politics. International leverage. You stroke mine and I’ll stroke yours and we’ll all have a fine time for as long as it lasts.”

“Jake Mallory’s First Principle”, Honor said sardonically. “For as long as it lasts.”

“Beats fairy dust about love, life, or country ever after, world without end, amen. Nothing lasts forever, honey.”

“Even amber?” she challenged.

“Even that. It comes close, though. When you hold a Neolithic figurine in your hand, time peels away until you can almost touch the yearnings of the people who put their own souls into a simple carving…”

The husky resonance of Jake’s voice shivered through Honor. He loved ancient amber the way she had always dreamed of being loved by a man.

Yet he had turned down the very thing he loved so deeply.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?”

“Why did you refuse Resnikov? Didn’t you believe he would follow through with his promises?”

“It didn’t matter. I only work for one employer at a time.”

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