Diamond Legacy (19 page)

“You get a clear visual? Can you identify him again?”

“Neil, yes. The other guy, no. Mostly I just heard the meeting. I was hiding in a stall.”

Matt groaned.

She ignored it and held up the syringe of Aftovax. “Okay, hold her still. This might sting a little.”

Matt wrapped his arms around the sheep just above the front shoulder, and during the sheep’s minor scuffle to get free, Miranda injected the vaccine. It was over in less than a minute. He grabbed the next animal in line, and they began the process again.

“There’s a meeting tonight,” she said.

“Where?”

“Glory Hill.”

As she checked the animal’s heartbeat, Matt frowned in thought. “There are several hills around here, but none named Glory. What else?”

“The mystery man said goods were available for display tonight at ten.” She lifted the sheep’s lip to inspect her teeth. “Oh, and he told them to bring some glass for verification. Know what that means?”

“Glass is slang for diamonds.”

“I know that,” she scoffed. “What it means is, we are running a reconnaissance mission tonight.”

He immediately began shaking his head. “Not we. You aren’t getting involved.”

Another injection, another sheep.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for protest?”

“No.”

“I know the risk I’m taking.” She peered inside the next sheep’s mouth.

“No.”

She didn’t bother arguing, just readied another injection and administered it. Matt traded the vaccinated sheep for another and resumed position on the ground with a brooding look meant to intimidate her into backing out.

She understood his concern. Truly, she did. She’d never allow someone untrained to assist in a dangerous procedure. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. Africa’s animal conservation programs had a tenuous foothold. In the midst of the struggle, Katanga knew phenomenal success. There’s no way she’d stand by and watch it ruined by greed.

“Please,” she begged. “Scold me later. We’ve work to do right now.”

Amazingly enough, he complied, and they finished vaccinating the rest of the sheep under a temporary truce. In fact, things went so well that Miranda stretched out Matt’s apprenticeship. They saw a pregnant goat, a pot-bellied pig with chronic indigestion, and a Golden Labrador with a cut that required two stitches.

Through it all, the heat of the day set in and she wiped her brow with her sleeve as she disinfected the exam table. Matt had returned the bandaged Labrador to his owner and stood talking to him as she cleaned up. She watched his easy banter, his absent-minded stroking of the dog’s head in comfort.

Matt came chock full of surprises. Once their arguing ceased, he seemed to enjoy himself. He showed none of the usual awkwardness that came from inexperience. Instead, he maintained playful but firm control, always keeping the skittish patient in check. He connected with them on a fundamental level. A hard-edged detective with a soft spot for animals and a floodtide of natural talent. She was impressed. His fear of camels aside, he could’ve had a promising career in zoology.

Countless hours she’d spent debating technique and swapping stories with her father. Passion for her work consumed her life and she never complained; it was an immensely satisfying and rewarding career.

Yet how much more fulfilling could it be shared with someone equally enthusiastic? And not just someone in the business, like Hank Meadows, but someone who shared the same appreciation of animal life, who felt the spark of the Creator in their primal emotions and behavior?

And if that startling realization weren’t enough, she suddenly woke to a possibility never before considered. She looked over to where Matt stood with their last patient. He still stroked the dog’s head as he shared a few words and laughter with the owner. He looked over then, and his easy smile held her spellbound. A realization shot home, nearly overwhelming her with its intensity.

Beyond the memory of the wedding bonfire, the sensual dance, and a kiss that curled her toes, there lay possibility. It wrapped around her heart, only to squeeze with the crushing certainty that she must leave when the job ended. He’d leave too, once the trail of blood diamonds became exposed. The thought left her cold with disappointment in spite of the day’s heat.

If she had any sense of self-preservation, she’d ignore her growing infatuation with Matt and concentrate on doing the work she came for. But it was much too late for that. Any better sense she had was lost the minute she had laid eyes on him.

Her only remaining thread of sanity came from her desire to ensure Katanga stayed clear of fallout. That meant sticking close to Matt during the short weeks remaining in her contract. Future heartbreak was a risk she’d willingly take. Some things were just worth it, and he…umm, that was, Katanga, was one of them.

“Bloody hell.” With a sharp twist, Matt closed his baggie of
braai
and dumped it back in the cooler.

He knew she wouldn’t listen. He’d told her not to come and yet there she was, sneaking across the darkened parking lot like some underworld spy. He never met a more stubborn, troublesome, distracting—

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked as she jumped into the Land Rover.

“Isn’t it rather obvious?”

“Don’t you ever listen to what I say?”

“Occasionally. But not this time.” She dropped her pack on the floorboard and settled in. “You may need back-up if you are planning on following Graham to Glory Hill.”

“If I need back-up, I’ll call a trained officer.”

She made a noise that sounded suspiciously close to a snort. “Don’t shortchange me. I have a wide range of skills.”

He wouldn’t argue that point. In fact, he’d likely add intriguing, totally desirable, and impossible to ignore on that list of skills. He wanted her, and that could only lead to trouble. Already he found himself losing focus. As close as they were to busting this smuggling ring wide open, he worried she may get caught in the crossfire. “Did you see Graham before you left the clinic?”

“About twenty minutes ago. He came out of the café and headed up the elevator. At least he’s smart enough to grab dinner. That’s more than I can say.”

Matt pushed the LED display of his watch. Ten after eight. “It’s also more than he allowed the maintenance staff tonight. No one could leave until the tents were dismantled and the parking lot cleared. It was dark by the time most of them had headed out.”

He reached back to his cooler and pulled out his stash of sliced salami, cheese, and crackers and spread it out on the seat between them. “Care to dine?”

“You’re my favorite janitor, ever.” Miranda flashed him a happy smile and began piling up a cracker. “Have any spicy mustard?”

“Never leave home without it.” He reached back over the seat and grabbed the little jar he’d bought at the farmer’s market.

“You know, Graham’s a strange man,” she said as she dipped a plastic knife into the mustard. “On one hand, he seems to really care for Katanga and the work it does. On the other, he jeopardizes everything by smuggling. It doesn’t make sense.”

She handed him the loaded cracker and started making another.

“He’s not hard to figure out,” Matt said around a bite. “The man likes luxury, and Katanga provides a perfect cover for his illegal operation. He’ll protect it and keep it running to ensure his cash flow. The real surprise is Victor Keyes. Never the first breath of scandal attached to his name. With Katanga, he blends wild Africa with research and development, banking tourist dollars in the process. He’s practically a hero of the community. Why’s he involved?”

She’d wolfed the first cracker and started piling up another. “Have you searched his office for clues again? I sort of interrupted your first attempt.”

“I did.” He twisted open a bottle of water and handed it over. “Found nothing.”

“How about Graham’s?”

He shook his head. “Not able to get in. He locks it up tight.”

“It didn’t stop you with Keyes’s office. What’s different?”

“Security cameras.”

“So visit it during normal working hours. Only he won’t be there because I’ll create a distraction. Maybe another unauthorized visit to the library. That will give you a chance—”

“No.”

“You’ve got a stubborn streak.” Her glare screamed annoyance. “Why won’t you accept help?”

“Me, stubborn? What about you? I’ve told you over and over how dangerous these people are. And still you hide in stables and show up during stakeouts.”

“I’ve helped your investigation. Admit it.”

“I’ll admit nothing. You’re too curious for your own good, unpredictable, and inclined to rash acts. In short, a very real worry.”

“But you like me anyhow.”

She was driving him to the brink of insanity. He liked her all right. He liked her spunk, her nerve, even her dedication to work. That he understood. What worried him was the overwhelming desire to kiss her until she moaned in mindless surrender, the constant craving to feel her tighten around him in response to—

“There’s Graham.”

Damn it. Matt forced aside the lustful thoughts and reluctantly focused on Graham walking to his Lexus and climbing inside. Matt waited until he pulled out of the parking lot before firing up the Land Rover. He didn’t even try to get Miranda to leave before following. She wouldn’t listen, so why bother? At least if she was with him, she wasn’t causing trouble elsewhere.

When Graham headed toward the downtown district, Matt gave him plenty of space as they negotiated what little traffic circulated this time of night. As Miranda wrapped up dinner and stashed it back in the cooler, they passed the farmers market, rounded the parliament building, and aimed due east, soon sliding into a part of town he had no business bringing Miranda into after dark.

“Lock your door.”

For once she did as he said. During daylight hours, this part of town did prosperous business, but at night, streetlamps illuminated a different sort of commerce. The weekend’s promise of cheap liquor and entertainment drew laborers, businessmen, and those making a living outside the law. That Graham had headed straight for this part of town revealed much.

The black Lexus slowed down for a stop sign and hung a right without stopping. Matt lingered at the same traffic post to give him a bigger lead.

A move he cursed when they rounded the corner and found no sign of the car. He slowed to a crawl. “Okay, my friend,” he whispered. “What hole did you crawl into?”

At the next intersection he glanced both ways. No taillights.

“Circle the block again,” Miranda said.

His plan exactly. He wheeled around the darkened block and started creeping up the street once more.

“There it is!” Miranda pointed up a narrow alley where Graham’s dark Lexus completely blocked the passage.

Matt braked and quickly gauged the possibilities. One side of the alley was a darkened storefront, the other a small bar. A rusted half dome light hung above the door, dimly highlighting a sign that read
Half Jacks
.

He rounded to the next block and pulled over just shy of the alley, close enough to spot the chrome grill of Graham’s Lexus. He killed the lights and the engine, and they waited.

“It would be a stretch to call this Glory Hill.” Matt checked his watch. Nine o’clock. “An hour ’til rendezvous time. I wager he won’t be here long.”

“Aren’t you going inside?”

“And risk Graham seeing me? Not on your life.”

“Don’t you want to know what he’s doing or who he’s meeting?”

“Definitely. But I’ll run a check on the place, see what crops up first.”

She nodded and glanced back toward the darkened alley. “I bet you meet some interesting characters in your job.”

Interesting wasn’t what he’d call it. He’d made a lot of enemies slogging around undercover and planned on making more. There was almost no reward, other than personal satisfaction, and the only thanks he got came from Nik. And yet, he wouldn’t do anything else.

Just like Miranda. He couldn’t imagine her as anything but a veterinarian. She fit her job, wore it like a second skin, and nothing seemed to faze her. Not cramped confinement in a closet, not native bonfire dancing, nor it seemed, a run into the seedier side of Gaborone.

“Some folks are more interesting than others,” he replied. “But relationships never last long. It’s hard to make friends when you wind up putting them behind bars.”

A motor fired up, and the lights of Graham’s car kicked on. He began easing out of the alley.

“Duck!” Matt whispered.

They slid down in their seats as headlights from the Lexus swept over them. Seconds later, Matt turned the key and followed. They aimed northward, and the cityscape steadily improved the farther they drove. When they reached the affluent neighborhoods, a suspicion began to form.

Apparently Miranda shared his thinking. “Isn’t this the way to that mansion we followed him to the other night?”

“Yep.”

The lights of Phakalane Golf Resort came into view. Gateway to the hills of Gaborone. And not a single one named Glory. Graham was headed for Weston’s mansion, he’d bet lunch on it. The Under Secretary took a huge risk. Either that or he was so confident in his own power that he flaunted authority and indulged openly in illicit business. Foolish, either choice.

The now familiar road stretched out in front of them and, minutes later, Matt drove past the mansion as Graham pulled up to the gates.

“So now will you tell me who lives there?”

No sense keeping it secret at this point. “A local politician named Weston,” Matt answered.

“Pretty high up the food chain based on the dollar value of that house.”

“Afraid so.” Matt pulled far enough away and turned around in the road. He killed the lights and backed the Rover deep into a stand of trees.

“It’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?” she continued. “Naming your home Glory Hill?”

“I should’ve figured it out.” Matt shook his head as he turned off the engine. “Weston is known for his enormous ego.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt, then reached beneath the seat to pull out his 9mm. He snapped in a clip and lifted his pant leg to slide it inside his sock. All while wondering how to convince Miranda to stay put.