Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“And if it doesn’t come up with anything?” Lyra asked.
“I would imagine, in that case, we’d have a couple of choices. We can turn the diamonds over to the police here in New Zealand. Or we can get Kingsley’s assistance in transporting them to an agency that can investigate without us being involved,” Rocco suggested.
“Can we give them to the police without getting Lyra in trouble?” Sadie asked, her brow wrinkled with worry.
Rocco looked concerned as well. “That’s the major concern.”
“Boyd keeps messaging my phone and leaving text messages,” Lyra said. “I could meet with him and get his fingerprints or something.”
“No” rang out from every Daddy’s mouth and even Caesar’s.
Lyra looked around the table at all the men. “It works on TV all the time.”
“This isn’t TV. You will not risk yourself in such a way,” Phoenix said, his tone harsh.
“Well, you just tell him that I won’t meet him then,” Lyra said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket and handing it over.
Phoenix read the latest message and scrolled back to read the others that had come in. “Crash, when was the last time you read one of these messages?”
“Probably yesterday. I don’t even want to look at them.”
“It appears that we have someone else to worry about. Or maybe more than one someone.” He turned the phone to show a picture of Boyd tied to a chair. His face was bloodied and bruised.
“Is that faked?” Lyra asked. “It doesn’t look like it. He looks really injured.”
“He does. There was a message that came with the picture.”
Phoenix began reading.
Lyra Bloom, you have twenty-four hours to respond with our goods, or Boyd Zhivers will die.
“Die?” Lyra echoed that last word as adrenaline flooded her body. She had to do something. “I hate him, but I don’t want Boyd to die. Give me the phone. I’ll answer.”
“You will not answer, Little girl. We’ll devise a strategy and then message them back,” Phoenix corrected her firmly.
Lyra wanted to argue, but the look on his face told her she didn’t have a chance at winning. “We’ve got to do something.”
“Goods. That seems to imply that they don’t know if Lyra is aware of the stones. Or is involved,” Kestrel pointed out.
“At least Boyd didn’t throw her under the bus and say Lyra was the mastermind,” Celeste said in an obvious attempt to be positive.
“Or they know their messages could be used against them,” Hawking countered.
“The picture alone is pretty damaging,” Magnus pointed out dryly.
“It is, but until Boyd is found with real, actual injuries, they’ve got deniability,” Phoenix pointed out.
Lyra shook her head when her Daddy lifted his fork to her lips. “I can’t eat any more. This situation is overwhelming. I can’t believe I’ve been waltzing through countries with illegal gems hidden in the lining of my cello case for who knows how long. I could be rotting in jail, or my cello could’ve been stolen or destroyed.”
“I know, Crash. It’s hard to conceive that someone would put you in the line of danger,” Phoenix said gently.
Hawking grunted. “It makes sense. The screeners look for certain tells from people as they go through security: sweating, nervousness, and a whole variety of physical traits that guilty people exhibit. Because you didn’t know, you didn’t react like that. I’d bet Boyd made them take a second look at him the first time he tried it.”
Looking at him in shock, Lyra leaned forward. “There was one time when we entered France. They pulled him aside and even took him to a separate room to go through his clothes and things. He joked that he must’ve looked like a criminal they were on the hunt for. I was worried for him but forced myself to practice a new song mentally to not pace the floor.”
“Did it take an extended time or just a few minutes?” Kestrel asked.
She knew he understood airport procedures. “Almost an hour. I thought he’d miss the plane,” she said, knowing they had to be right. “He put me in jeopardy over and over again. We’ve traveled a hundred times since that moment.”
“We’re going to figure this out. Is everyone finished?” Rocco asked, putting his fork down.
This time, “yes” was repeated around the table. The Daddies stood and piled the dishes back on the cart.
“Don’t send that chocolate cake back,” Magnus ordered.
“He’s so going to have a midnight snack,” Caesar predicted as the computer guru lifted the cake off the cart's bottom shelf and carried it to the refrigerator in their break area.
“I’m betting everyone will be hungry later,” Magnus called over his shoulder.
“You’re probably right,” Rocco agreed. “Besides, I think I’m on duty at midnight tonight.”
Rocco glanced over at the displays and noted a message had popped up. “Hey, Magnus. Your screen says it made a match.”
“What?” Magnus whirled around and returned to his desk, setting the cake holder on Juniper’s workspace. Taking a seat in his chair, he clicked buttons.