Page 56 of Dick

“It sure is.”

“Now what about my little diamond? I’d sure like to have it before Preston’s birthday. It’d be nice to have it when I go out to dust his headstone.”

“When might that be?”

“The 21st. In thirteen days.”

Dick and I hadn’t discussed a time frame, and the idea of using my dead husband’s birthday as a deadline just came to me. After I spoke, I hoped the date would work for all parties involved.

His face was red and he was covered in beads of sweat. He rubbed his palm over the top of his bald head, returned a wet hand, and wiped it against his thigh. “Let me step in the back, and check my ledger. I may be able to help you; I’ll just need to check. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” I said.

I wished Dick was there so he could see how well I was doing with the creepy little jeweler. I could tell he was talking to someone, and although I couldn’t hear what he was saying clearly, I imagined the man with the mustache from the noodle place being on the other end of the phone. I felt that mustaches were the creepiest things ever, and believed the men who wore them were never honest, and only creeps. I threw up in mouth a little bit just as the Danny DeVito look-alike was returning.

“I’m afraid I have good news and bad news,’ he said.

“The bad first. I love ending on a good note.”

“I may be able to help you, but it’s going to be twice the size of the original stone, and it will cost $4,000,000. It’s a bargain at that price.”

I stood there with a smile on my face and stared as if he hadn’t spoken. He cleared his throat.

I chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was waiting for the bad news.”

“That was the bad news.”

“Oh, well, what’s the good news?”

“I think we can get it by Preston’s birthday, we’ll just have to have the payment in cash or bank approved funds.”

“That won’t be a problem. Now, I have a friend who advises me in such matters, will he be able to inspect the diamond before I purchase it?”

“Certainly,” he said. “Did I say the stone is round?”

“You didn’t. I’m just so excited to get it replaced, I’m afraid the shape doesn’t matter. How do we proceed from here?”

“I’ll need a way to contact you,” he said. “And I’ll be in touch.”

The thought of giving the sweaty little man my phone number didn’t appeal much to me, but I realized I had no choice. I gave him my number. After I shot him a huge grin and allowed him another long stare at my tits, I left.

I knew Dick would be happy with what I found out, but I wanted more. I needed to know who had the diamond.

And my bet was it was the man with the mustache.