Read Online Buried Leads (A Headlines in High Heels Mystery) by Lyndee Walker - Free Book Online Page B

the van, poking her cameraman and pointing at me. I waved discreetly before I turned back to the pretty redhead, determined to get something good.
    “Sure.” The redhead shrugged and gestured for me to have a seat beside her. “I’m Brittany.”
    When I’d settled on the sun-warmed concrete and taken down the correct spelling of her name, she launched into her story.
    “I was helping a couple with the engagement rings,” she said. “They were really nice, and she was so excited about picking out her ring. They had been here for a while—she didn’t like anything we had in the case and wanted to look at settings and diamonds to see if we could do a semi-custom. I love the engagement rings. Everyone’s always so excited when they come in to look at those.”
    I nodded. “I can imagine. This was the couple who were taken to the hospital?”
    “Yeah. I would’ve been hit, too, but I had turned around to get a color grading guide for diamonds out of the file cabinet. I got sprayed with the glass from the case when he crashed into it. Anyway, there it was, out of nowhere. This guy had just left with some big expensive tennis bracelet for his wife. Or his girlfriend.” She snorted. “He was a character. Big, loud dude in boots and a cowboy hat. Made a real fuss of wanting the biggest diamond bracelet we had in the place, and paid cash for it. Most of those are looking for make-up jewelry for the wife or suck-up diamonds for the girlfriend.”
    I jotted notes, trying not to laugh. I knew the type: Dallas has its fair share of big, loud cowboys. They can be colorful, for sure.
    “I see. Was this one a regular customer?”
    “No. He lives out in the sticks. I heard him say he owns one of those big farms out in Powhatan.” Her green eyes rolled skyward. “Been in his family for generations, he said. And something about his regular jeweler not having anything big enough. He wouldn’t talk to anyone but my manager.”
    “That explains the truck and the boots,” I said.
    “The truck, maybe. Those boots hadn’t ever seen a field, though.”
    I nodded, jotting that down.
    “Are those people going to be okay?” she asked. “They were so happy. Excited about getting married. And my friend Janie—she was in the way. The glass from the windows cut her up pretty badly.”
    I patted her hand. “The police spokesman said the paramedics expected everyone to be fine. Thanks for your help.”
    “No problem. I guess I can go home now. I think we’re closed.”
    I turned back toward the building, intent on finding the structural engineer, and saw a blue SUV turn into the parking lot.
    I shaded my eyes with my notebook and stared as Kyle stepped out of the driver’s seat. He paused when he saw me, then raised one arm and waved.
    “You’re just underfoot today, aren’t you? What’s this got to do with the ATF, Mr. Special Agent?” I asked when I met him halfway across the lot.
    “On the record? No comment.” He grinned. His eyes said he was happy to see me, and I smiled back. I had missed Kyle. Not that he needed to know that.
    “Really?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “All right, then. I’ll figure it out for myself.”
    He pointed to a group of men who were surveying the damage. One had a tie and wire-rimmed glasses, and two of the others had hard hats and clipboards.
    “Looks like someone did a number on this place,” Kyle said.
    “Yeah. The cops said they’re waiting for a structural engineer to tell them if they can even pull the truck out of there. I’d bet that’s one or both of the hard hat crew over there. Store clerk said the guy who did it was a real piece of work. Flashing a lot of cash and buying big diamonds.”
    Kyle’s eyebrows went up.
    “Really? Who did you talk to?”
    I turned back toward the sidewalk, but she was gone.
    “Oh. She said she was going home,” I told Kyle, scanning the parking lot for the auburn ringlets. “I guess she meant right now. I didn’t get a phone number, but