of her unzipped hidden pockets after a fair bit of shaking. Samantha blinked in surprise.
“What in the world is that?”
He peered at it, then reached out and picked it up. It was tied up like a little hobo bundle, which he then gingerly untied. He peeled back the corners, then looked at the small linen packet it revealed. He looked at her.
“What do you think?”
“Too small to be a bomb.”
He smiled briefly, then set it down on the table. He pulled out a pocketknife.
“Are you supposed to have one of those?” she asked.
“Don’t tell.”
She would have smiled, but she was actually slightly unnerved to find that she had again been used as a courier without her knowledge.
Derrick carefully slit open one end of the small linen package, tipped it, then jumped a little as a handful of gems spilled out into his hand.
She squeaked.
Derrick poured the gems onto the coffee table and simply stared at them. He looked at her.
“What do you think?”
She took the handkerchief the little packet had been wrapped in and looked at it. “Sixteenth-century bobbin lace. It’s new.”
“It’s not very clean.”
“I mean, it’s not vintage,” she said. She looked at him. “We’re looking at a piece of Elizabethan lace that hasn’t been around for four hundred years. It’s new.”
He blinked. “You think it was planted on you when we were fetching the lace?”
“I don’t know what else to think.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s not like I’ve dumped out my bag since then. I was too busy stuffing things into it.” She spread the lace out carefully. She could hardly believe she was examining yet another piece of Elizabethan textile, much less one that was antique, but not antique. She sighed. “It’s not clean, no, but it’s also not showing any age spots. And yes, it’s worn a little on this edge here and it’s been repaired here, but on the whole, it’s in very good condition.” She looked at him. “New.”
“I’ll be damned.” He shook his head. “I wonder why?”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “There’s no way those guys last night could possibly have known I had that. Is there?”
He looked into the empty hearth for a moment or two, then reached for her purse and looked at it. He finally turned it inside out. He looked at her. “Do you mind if get a little more friendly?”
“With my bag?”
“That, too.”
She blinked, then smiled. “You’re crazy. And yes, go ahead.”
He looked in the pockets, then ran his fingers over the lining.
And he stopped.
He reached for his knife, then looked at her. “Mind?”
“No,” she said, feeling a little breathless.
He unpicked stitches she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking for them. She felt her mouth fall open as he pulled out a small plastic bag of gems.
“Well, this is interesting.”
“Damn that Lydia Cooke.”
He laughed a little. “That’s a pretty big assumption.”
“That bag never leaves my person,” she said. “The only time I’ve been without it is in Newcastle.” She looked at him. “Jet lag, you know.”
“Understandable.” He set the bag down on the coffee table next to the other loose gems. “Notice anything interesting?”
She looked at both collections, then frowned. “Well, apart from the fact that I’m seeing double is the fact that I’m seeing double.”
He lifted his eyebrows briefly. “I’d have to dig out a jeweler’s loupe, but I imagine those are quite similar sets of stones.”
“What?” she said in surprise.
He started to answer, but his phone beeped at him. Samantha watched him read a text, then put his phone away.
“Oliver and Peter are here. We’ll set up in Cameron’s office downstairs. Lots of comfy chairs and secure lines for Internet surfing. I’ll build a fire and we’ll do a bit of researching.”
“What are we going to do with the loose stones?”
“Oh, I’ll just shove them in a pocket.”
“Better check for holes first.”
He looked at her and smiled. “You know, you’re fairly funny for a textile historian.”
“Did you expect me to only be able to talk about bobbins and patterns?”
He shook his head, then took the linen, the handkerchief, and the small plastic bag full of gems and shoved it all in her bag he’d turned back outside out. He scooped up the loose gems, then stood and put them in his pocket. She gaped at him.
“You just shoved a fortune in gems in your pocket.”
“A fortune, do you think?”
“Well, the lace alone is very valuable—”
“Which is why it’s in your purse.” He put his pocketknife into a different pocket, then held out