Family Jewels Read Online Free PDF Page B

under the bed. Moses ! The cat attacked the man’s ankles like a shadow of flying fur, moving too fast for her to tell which side of him was head or tail. Caught off guard, the intruder jumped backward, desperately trying to fight off the growling cat with his free hand and the knife. The grisly image of her pet being gored by that switchblade spurred her into action.
    “No!” she screamed. “Don’t you dare hurt him!”
    Cynthia swung her golf club on top of his spine. A loud grunt exploded from him. Moses continued to grab and bite into the man’s calves, digging in with his long, sharp incisors and curved claws.
    The man howled in pain and swore every combination of nasty words she’d ever heard, at the same time slicing his knife down in a deadly sweep. He was going to kill Moses!
    She lifted her club and crashed the heavy end on his head, catching him across the temple. It sounded like she’d hit a rock. Moses flew up in the air with an ear-splitting screech, landed on her bed in a tumble of white fur and flailing legs and then scrambled down the hall. The intruder stood motionless for a moment. Had she stunned him? She didn’t dare take her eyes off him to spare another split-second for Moses. In slow motion, the man dropped his knife, fell to one knee and grabbed his head with both hands.
    Cynthia watched, body trembling, breathing hard and fast. If he so much as moved a muscle…
    Groaning pitifully, he tried to stand again. She lifted her weapon for another swing. He stumbled back, away from her, still clutching his head. At the door he turned and ran, awkwardly bumping against the wall. Glossy dark streaks of blood remained after his rapid retreat.
    Her breath rasped in and out of her lungs. Glass crunched loudly beneath hurried footfalls. Did he climb through the window, going out the same way he came in?
    Unable to move, she stood frozen for several long minutes, just listening. She shook so hard that she thought she’d crack every bone in her body from the tremors. Slowly, sensibility returned. His discarded knife lay on the floor near the bed. The switchblade was evidence and she knew better than to touch it. She kept her grip on the golf club.
    Still she didn’t trust the man was entirely gone. She tiptoed to the bedroom door, holding her weapon like a sword and peered down the hall.
    Empty.
    Could he be unconscious or lying in wait somewhere else in her apartment? Cautiously she searched, flipping on lights as she went. He was gone. She hurried to find the cordless phone and dialed 911.

Chapter Four
     
    The insistent trill of his cell phone woke Trevor from a dreamless sleep. Jet lag always hit him hard the first day whenever he flew across the Atlantic pond. He reached under his pillow, felt his gun, moved his hand to the nightstand and found the annoying phone.
    “St. James,” he answered groggily.
    “Wakey, wakey,” a jolly male voice said in a thick Scottish brogue. “Got something for ye. Are ye up?”
    “Am now.” Trevor recognized the sound of his support agent’s overly cheerful greeting. “Talk.”
    “Be down at the Sixth Police Precinct on Sheridan Street at nine o’clock. A woman whose apartment was burglarized last night will be there talking to detectives.”
    “How is this important to my case?”
    “She’s a jewelry designer. Mr. Andrews paid her a visit as a client.”
    Trevor sat up, fully alert now and reached for a notepad and pen. “Good job, O’Rourke. Sixth Precinct on Sheridan, nine a.m. Got it. What’s her name?”
    “Miss Cynthia Lyons. For a jewelry designer, she doesn’t have any reputation to speak of, not as far as recognition with Interpol goes. Strictly small-time. They’re sending a squad car to pick her up from an undisclosed hotel.”
    “A hotel? Why?”
    “She decked the burglar with a golf club. He left a blood trail and didn’t get anything he came for. Her apartment has been cordoned off for investigation. I’ve already checked all the