The 9th Judgment

Sarah's heart revved up again and went into overdrive. Of all the stores in the world, how had she found the one place in Pacific Heights where someone knew her?

"Mark. Great to see you. May I borrow your phone? I have to call my husband."

Mark stared down at her bare feet, at the bleeding gash on her shin. He opened his mouth and closed it, then fished his phone out of his back pocket and handed it to Sarah. She thanked him and walked down the produce aisle, dialing and then listening to the phone ring several times. Finally Heidi picked up.

"It's me," Sarah said. "I'm at Whole Foods. I locked myself out of my car."

"Oh God, Sarah," Heidi said. "I can't come. The kids are sleeping."

"Where's Beastly?"

"He's out, but he could walk in at any minute. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I love you. I'll see you soon."

"I love you, too."

Ogrodnick looked up and switched off the neon light in the storefront window. Sarah had no choice. She dialed her home phone number and, for the first time ever, prayed that Trevor would pick up.

"Sarah, where the hell are you?" Terror asked with a sharp edge in his voice.

Meekly, Sarah told him.

Chapter 82

AFTER TREVOR THREATENED her, drank, shoved her around, and collected his marital due, he finished a six-pack and went to bed. Red-eyed, sore, and frightened, Sarah sat in his chair, squeezing the exercise ball. She changed hands, working her fingers until they were nearly numb. Then she shook out her hands and booted up her laptop.

Once she was on the Web, she clicked on Google News and typed "Hello Kitty" into the search bar.

To Sarah's relief, there was no mention of the burglary at Diana King's house. Not yet. But Sarah was worried about the tools she'd ditched in her steeplechase through Pacific Heights. Specifically, had she been wearing gloves when she changed the battery in her headlamp? She couldn't remember.

And so Sarah searched her mind for an out. She'd dumped the tools in a trash bag near that small construction site. Maybe if someone found it, he'd think, Cool. Free stuff. Or maybe the trash bag would be tied and simply taken out to the curb.

Sarah thought about all the other stuff she'd left behind like a trail of bread crumbs: her sweater and socks and shoes. By themselves, they were nothing. But if her prints were on the battery, everything else could be used to back up the charges against her.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, if the shoe fits, you must nail her ass for twenty years without possibility of parole.

Sarah groaned and ran the cursor down the Hello Kitty page. She read a few articles about her burglaries and her growing infamy, taking no pleasure in any of it. A headache bloomed behind her right eye as she tapped into the canon of stories about the Dowlings. The most recent clips were all Marcus Dowling quotes and interviews, but as she scrolled to earlier pages, she found stories from the day after she'd done the Dowling job.

A headline grabbed her attention.

"The Sun of Ceylon Stolen in Fatal Armed Robbery."

Sarah flashed on a few words that had been almost forgotten since she'd spoken with Sergeant Boxer. The cop had said that the yellow stone was a diamond. Now it seemed the diamond had a name. After clicking on the link to the article, Sarah began to read.

"The Sun of Ceylon," a twenty-karat yellow diamond, was stolen from actor Marcus Dowling and his wife, Casey Dowling, who was killed in an armed robbery. When last seen, this showy stone was set in a handworked gold ring with 120 smaller white diamonds.

The Sun has a long history, marked with sudden death. Once the property of a young farmer who found it in a dirt street in Ceylon, the stone has passed from paupers to kings, leaving a trail of tragedy behind.

Sarah felt as if a fist had closed around her heart. She called up the history of the Sun of Ceylon and everything that had happened to the people who had owned it-a long list of financial ruin and disgrace, sudden insanity, suicide, homicide, and accidental death.

In her research on gems, Sarah had read of other stones like the Sun. The Koh-i-noor diamond, known as the " Mountain of Light," brought either great misfortune or an end to the kingdoms of all men who owned it. Marie Antoinette wore the Hope diamond, and she was beheaded-it was said that a string of death and misfortune followed the stone.

There were other gems that carried curses: the Black Orlov Diamond, the Delhi Purple Sapphire, the Black Prince's Ruby. And the Sun of Ceylon.

Casey Dowling had owned it. And now she was dead.

Sarah had given that stone to Heidi as a romantic gift-but what if it brought evil into Heidi's life?

Sarah had to ask herself, Am I really this superstitious?

Crossing your fingers and throwing salt over your shoulder were baloney. Still, call it stress, call it irrational-it didn't matter. Sarah felt it strongly. It was well-documented. People who owned cursed gemstones died.

She had to get that diamond back from Heidi before Pete really hurt her.

Chapter 83