Chapter 18

Camille was raised in Dallas and it felt good to drive around and reminisce. Dinner went well. Her parents loved Marc and they behaved. They were infamous for making embarrassing comments when men were around, however, they seemed to be on their best behavior, and she left with her dignity intact.

* * *

The next morning, they parked in front of Joyas Custom Jewelry storefront hidden in the corner of a shopping center. It was a little after nine and the light shopping crowd helped to secure a parking spot close to the building.

They walked to the shop and she patted the silver locket secure in her pocket. Camille called ahead and talked with a man named Manuel. He assured her that he would help in any way possible. Marc opened the door, following her into the shop. A ring of the cowbell above the door signaled their entrance.

A woman called “Be right there,” from the back. As they waited, she scanned the shop. It was smaller than it appeared from outside. The open floor plan made the space inviting. She counted five glass cases illuminated with white florescent lights and several private desks. Camille stepped closer and looked at the beautiful pieces in the showcases. The website boasted about their rare stones and custom settings. She wandered through the shop, noticing collections grouped by the focal stone type. They had diamonds, pearls, rubies, emeralds, but she stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing a showcase full of black diamonds.

Marc stood over her. “Those are similar to your earrings.”

Camille's hands traveled to her set of black diamond earrings, she wore them almost daily. They had been a gift from her father. He told her that they once belonged to her mother. She treasured the earrings because they made her feel nearer to her mother.

 “Yes, they are.” She saw a platinum necklace with black diamonds clustered into a rose-like shape. There was a complete set with a ring, bracelet, and earrings.

“Ahh, I see you like the black diamonds. They are exquisite, rare stones.” An older man appeared and inserted a key into the lock, sliding the glass to the side. He lifted the gray felt display stand, bringing the set closer. He held up the bracelet and asked, “May I?” He wanted to place the bracelet on Camille. She nodded her approval.

He clasped the bracelet on her thin wrist. “Black diamonds were once considered throwaways because they are so unlike other types of diamonds. They are known as carbonados.” He continued while admiring the piece. “It is the cluster of crystals that cause its distinct blackish color.”

Camille held her wrist up. Marc nodded his approval. She thought it was beautiful. She had never considered the significance of the stone. Her eyes began to mist as she thought of her mother.

Oblivious to her mood change, the man continued, “The most fascinating aspect is that they are actually not black at all, they are a deep green or grey.”

She extended her wrist toward him as he removed the bracelet. “How can I help you?”

“We're here to see Manuel.” Marc said, discreetly rubbing Camille's lower back.

“I'm Manuel,” he answered as he placed the set back in the showcase, securing the lock.

“Hello, I'm Camille. We spoke on the phone.” She flashed her badge. He glanced at it and nodded. “I wanted to show you a locket I was given by a friend.” She removed the locket from her pocket and passed it to him.

He lowered his glasses from his head and perched them on the tip of his nose. Holding the locket between his fingers, he held it out a few inches from his face. “This is one of my custom pieces.”

Camille and Marc exchanged a quick glance. “How do you know?” Marc asked.

Manuel looked over the brim of his glasses. “Because I know.” he said matter-of-factly. As if that statement were enough, he turned the locket on its side, shuffling to a nearby magnifying glass affixed to the end of the counter. He took another look and satisfied with his inspection, Manuel passed the locket back to Camille.

 “I was given this locket by a friend. I found it very unique and wanted to know more about it.” She was unsure of how she should address her suspicions about the locket.

He removed his glasses, “Yes, it's a special piece we created. It's somewhat like a jump drive because it holds information, but it’s more expensive because it's a custom piece. Most people would not expect to have a terabyte memory device hanging around their neck carved out of platinum or gold. This one is more unique because of the stones.”

A memory stick? Camille held the locket close to her eyes and tried to see how it could hold so much in such a little space.

“How much would something like this cost? And how do I retrieve the data?”

He walked them back to the magnifying glass and pointed to a pin-size hole on the side. “You see this hole? We have a special cable that connects and you can view the contents on a computer.

“Can I buy the cord from you?”

“Yes, you can, but it may not help. We have a special security code for each piece, which is determined by the owner.”

“Can you reset the code so I can access the contents?”

“I can, but not without a warrant. Many people have these made for a specific purpose. They are usually trying to hide sensitive documents. You don't have a half-million dollar piece made for the fun of it.”

Half-million dollars! Where would Ashanta get that kind of money?

“Manuel, this is a matter of life and death. Can you help me?” Camille nearly pleaded.

“Manuel, this piece is vital to an international investigation,” Marc showed his badge. “Anything you can do would be greatly appreciated. The information on this locket could help solve a case of national security.”

He looked from Camille to Marc.

“We would greatly appreciate it. You can take our badge numbers if needed and we'll leave the numbers to our offices as well.” Camille said.

 “All right, but it may take a while. I have to call in my programmer to get past the code in order to reset it. You'll have to leave it and come back tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Camille asked. “We can wait.” She did not want to leave it. What if something happened? The information on the locket may be the key to finally closing this case.

“I have other pieces to complete and even if I call the programmer, he'll need to come in. It will be safe with me. Come back around five.” He grabbed a velvet jewelry bag and dropped the locket inside.

Camille reached in her pocket and pulled out her business card, “Please call me if you finish early.”

“Yes, and please be careful we don't want to lose any of the data. Again, it’s a matter of life and death,” Marc reiterated.

Manuel nodded. They walked out, but not before stopping once again at the black diamond display. Camille glanced back at Manuel and Marc placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the door. He lowered his head, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “Don't worry, it will be all right. We'll come back and pick it up. Let's go find Texas United Credit Union.”

* * *

Camille wondered if the blonde-haired person leading them through the bank would break her neck as she pranced with an exaggerated strut, no doubt for Marc's benefit. Camille shook her head, meeting Marc's glance. He shrugged his shoulder, and tried to appear embarrassed. They entered the vault and waited as she located Ashanta's safe deposit box.

“Here you are, I will be right outside the door, let me know if you need anything.” She leaned forward, giving Marc a peek at her surgically enhanced breasts.

“Thank you,” Marc said as he waited for Camille to insert the key.

“That's a damn shame,” she said under her breath while unlocking the box and pulling out the metal box. She looked at him and saw his smug expression. “And if you keep smiling that silly grin, I'll...oh, never mind.”

“Jealous?” he asked, not backing down despite her giving him her best don't push it look.

“In your dreams.”

Camille opened the box and they walked over to a small table a few feet away. Marc stood over her shoulder, watching the entrance and scanning the room. The small space had several security cameras with one entrance. They were both in business mode again as Camille began removing the items from the box.

She held financial records chronicling accounts payable records from IJDC to several companies. The amounts were in excess of several hundred thousand dollars. She passed the documents to Marc as she pulled out an envelope containing photographs.

“Do you recognize any of the company names?” Marc asked.

Camille stopped and leaned over him, looking down the list of company names. “Yes, a few, but we deal with a lot of high ticket clients. These amounts are not unusual, so I have to assume the companies’ identities are what's important.”

Marc nodded. He shifted through the pictures as Camille placed the contents in her shoulder bag. “Let's get out of here. We have about an hour before we’re scheduled to meet Derek.”

Camille emptied the box and locked it. As they made their way out of the bank, Camille received a call from Manuel. The programmer would have the password reset and ready for pickup in the morning.

Camille thanked him as she slid into the car. Marc retraced their route toward the hotel. During the drive, she went through the pictures. She immediately recognized two people, Ashanta and Talib. She almost felt betrayed.

“So, what did you find?”

Marc leaned against the door watching her every move. A few moments later, they arrived at the hotel.

“I'll explain over lunch. Let's go.”

They exited the car and made their way to the hotel restaurant. After ordering their lunch, she began, “I told you we have an interim president now that Saul has taken over the company.” Marc nodded.

Camille paused and thought about Ashanta’s death. She had not really had time to sit and digest everything that occurred. She would ask Derek for an update during their meeting. She wanted to go and say a final goodbye to her friend.

“He's one of the people in the pictures,” she continued, retrieving the pictures from her bag as she pointed out Talib.

Marc shuffled through the pictures again as the waiter placed their food on the table. He placed them aside as they began eating.

“I think I'm having flashbacks,” Marc said, looking into Camille's surprised face.

“Flashbacks?”

“Yes, the last time I shared a meal with you, you stormed out leaving me high and dry.” He laughed at the bashful expression that crossed her face.

“Hey, you asked for it.” She chuckled and took the last sip of her iced tea.

Marc took care of the check and they made their way to her suite. While they waited for Derek's call, she wanted to compare the new findings to the items Ashanta mailed to her.

She opened the door to her room and let Marc in. She dropped her bag on the small desk, making her way to the restroom. “I'll be right back.”

Camille stopped in front of the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. She was holding up well, but things were more confusing than ever and now Marc was probably sitting on her bed…waiting.

She stared at her reflection; she had a blank look on her face. Camille grabbed her brush, smoothing her flyaway hairs. She added a little lip-gloss to her lips and considered changing from her black slacks and v-neck sweater. She was dressed for comfort and after spending the day with Marc, it was too late to change now.

Camille had issues that were more pressing; like dealing with Derek. She had to keep her feelings in check and be prepared to plead her right to continue this case.

“Are you all right in there?”

“Yeah, I'm coming right out.” Here goes nothing. She left the bathroom, ready to face Marc in the small closed-in space.

“Camille, come here.” Marc patted the space beside him. He was resting on the end of the bed as if it was normal for them to share a space.

She picked at some invisible lint on her sweater. Sitting on the bed could spell trouble. In response to his request, she shook her head negatively, signaling that she didn't think it was a good idea. Instead, she sat in the chair behind the desk. He smiled as if he was having a good time watching her squirm.

“Camille, sitting over there will only temporarily solve our issue.” His smile was so sexy, she could just lick it off. Where in the hell did that come from?

“Urgh...” Camille released a muddled groan as she shook her head trying to rid herself of that thought.

He laughed.

She was saved by the bell as her cell phone rang. It was Derek. He wasn’t going to make it to Dallas, instead he would meet them in Houston. She nodded as if he could see her responses. All the while, Marc laid back on the bed, his feet flat on the floor, hands resting behind his head. His eyes were closed and it lessened the tension in her chest. Once again, she could tell he was asleep. She was sure he was beat. He had caught an early flight back to Houston, driven them to Dallas, and now he was fast asleep on her bed, again, and she'd let him, he deserved it.

Camille pulled out the documents from the safety deposit box, Ashanta's letter, and her notes. She paused trying to recall whether she'd brought Ashanta's file. While walking to her suitcase, Camille made a mental note to transcribe her comments into her laptop. She chided herself for forgetting the file and would have to make due. She grabbed her laptop and sweatpants and turned on her computer before tiptoeing to the bathroom. She needed to cross-reference her notes between Ashanta's letters and the documents, but first she needed to change since they would not be meeting Derek.

She peeked over her shoulder and Marc was still asleep. Such a beautiful man… However, he was off limits, especially with Derek breathing down her back. She paused at the entrance of the door and watched the rise and fall of his chest. She loved the way his jeans fit snugly on his firm thighs.

Snap out of it, girl.

It was okay to look, but not touch. Now if only she could convince the butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

Marc lay awake for a few minutes before opening his eyes. He could hear Camille singing under her breath. He opened one eye. Her back was turned to him. The coast was clear, so he decided to watch her for a while.

Her ringlets were free, just the way he liked it. She had on a t-shirt and sweats. Her feet were pulled underneath her in the chair as she leaned over the desk, staring at a yellow notepad before typing into her computer. She paused, snapped her fingers and rocked her shoulders to the beat.

It took everything in him not to react to her carefree moment. Marc felt like he was spying. He knew he was getting a rare glimpse of the woman that lie behind those prim and proper navy blue suits.

“I like this side of you,” he finally said.

She stopped and fidgeted while pushing forcefully at something on her computer. The music stopped and the agent returned. He could see her slipping away and he missed her already. Marc stood and closed the space between them in a few short steps.

“You didn't have to turn the music off.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and began massaging the tension he felt beneath his fingertips.

“I didn't mean to wake you.” She sat as stiff as a board.

He continued to massage her shoulders, elated that she had not stopped him. He kneaded the persistent knot, nearly losing his cool when she released a throaty moan. She rolled her head to the left, giving him full access to her bare neck. He knew it would be inappropriate to take advantage of the moment, but he also knew that he’d mentally kick himself later for letting it pass them by.

Marc bent lower and placed a kiss at the base of her neck. He swore he heard a purr of approval, so he continued kissing. He wanted to taste her mouth again. He turned the chair so she faced him and extended his hand. Camille stared at him. Marc knew she was over-thinking the situation. He couldn’t rush her, but he wanted her….now.

“Baby, stop thinking so much and come here.”

She grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Marc wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He tilted his head, ready to sample the most delectable treat.

Marc slipped his hand around her neck as his fingers played in her hair. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, and then stopped a short breath away from Camille's lips. He used the end of his thumb and lightly traced her chocolate freckles that danced across her nose.

“What are you wearing?” he whispered, his mouth over hers.

“Sweats and a t-shirt.” Her husky voice carried through the room over his labored breathing. 

He laughed, pulling her body flush with his own. “No, love, your perfume.”

“I'm not wearing any...”

He captured her mouth in a kiss that sent a chill of awareness through his body and settled in his groin. He felt a throb that he tried to ignore, but he couldn't, any more than he could live without breathing.

“Camille, I know it's soon, but I want to make love to you.”

She nodded her consent and he slipped his hand beneath her shirt. He lifted it to find the cutest pink lace bra. He used his finger to trace the chocolate buds awaiting his attention. She sucked in her breath while arching her back. Following his lead, she reached for the button of his jeans.

“Marc...” She purred, grabbing the back of his head as he played with her perky small breasts.

He pulled away and looked into Camille‘s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, this may complicate things, but yes. I want this.”

Marc gathered Camille in his arms, carrying her a few feet to the king size bed. He laid her down…slowly as he removed her sweatpants. He was pleased by what he discovered. She wore tiny pink panties. She was a girly-girl underneath her tough exterior.

She lay like a sexy temptress with her sandy locks flowing and her caramel sun-kissed skin clad in pink. He let his index finger trace a seductive line from the base of her neck, down the valley between her breasts, and low to the pearl that made her squirm and whisper his name beneath her breath.

Marc let his pants drop lazily to the floor as he climbed in the bed. His weight caused the bed to shift. She grabbed his manhood.

“Are you ready?” he asked, kissing his way down her stomach.

“Yes...”