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Jane Barnaby had everything going her way: a prestigious internship at the Museum of Natural History, a fantastic Upper West Side sublet apartment, and helping plan her newly-engaged college friend's wedding.
Until a casual lunch with her friend’s fiancé set off alarm bells, and sent her digging into the rabbit hole that is his past.
When that rabbit hole leads Jane and her on-again, off-again boyfriend to the English countryside, uncovering secrets dating back to World War 2, searching for priceless art treasures looted by the Nazis, and fighting off the thieves who will kill to get those treasures for themselves, will they discover the truth, or lose their lives?
“Did you get a good look at that rock?”
Jane had, indeed, gotten a very good look at the brand-new engagement ring on Tishy McCall’s hand. Thanks to a special lecture her advisor had arranged last fall at Garrard’s, jewelers to the royal family, which had amounted to a one-day master class in fine jewelry, she had a pretty clear idea of how much it was worth, too.
She unlocked the door to her apartment and ushered Jess in. “Good enough to tell it was six carats, give or take. Probably worth $150,000 or so.”
Jess’ eyes went wide. “Seriously?”
“I told you about the guy who repairs jewelry for the Queen of England. He gave us the crash course, and believe me, I was paying close attention.” She smiled as she recalled the last half-hour of the lecture, when the gentleman from Garrard’s had given the ladies of Magdalen College very specific instruction on what to look for when they were buying, or receiving, precious jewelry. “He told us how to spot the real thing. I guarantee you, Tishy’s ring was as real as it gets.”
Jane was surprised that Jess hadn’t yet said anything about the apartment, considering this was her first time seeing it. Clearly the shock of seeing Tishy’s ring, and the news of her engagement in the first place, had not faded yet. Jess wandered over to the sofa, not really paying much attention to anything, and plopped herself down before Jane could warn her not to.
She sank into the plush cushions and nearly tipped over, putting Jane in mind of the Weeble-Wobbles she’d played with as a little girl. “God, Jane, how do you stand this?”
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French
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Already translated.
Translated by TochiPat Enterprises
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Kara Holburn
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Denise Castro
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Ana Medina
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