The Lion of Justice (The Bodyguard series Book 2) by Leena Lehtolainen

Author:Leena Lehtolainen [Lehtolainen, Leena]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: AmazonCrossingEnglish
Published: 2015-06-09T04:00:00+00:00

13

I’d never thought about what had happened to my mother’s jewels. Dad had cut her left ring finger off with a knife, removing her engagement and wedding rings. But the ring with three rubies was neither of those. I had a memory of a ring with a rock in it shining in the pool of blood. I did my best to wipe the memory and that other ring from my mind and focus on the ring in the picture. Where had Mom gotten it, and was I now holding the very same ring? It didn’t have any engravings, but a jeweler would be able to tell whether an engraving had been sanded off, maybe even where the ring had come from. It couldn’t be just a coincidence that David had this ring. Who’d know more about my mom’s jewels? The only person I could think of was Maija Hakkarainen. I looked at the clock. Nine thirty may have been too late to call. She and her husband were farmers, so they went to bed early to get up at five and milk the cows. I would wait until tomorrow.

I called a service to find information on my mother’s friends. The names Päivi Väänänen and Tiina Turpeinen came up in the Helsinki area, but I didn’t want to call them this late—with common names like that, they might not even be the people I was looking for. And what would I say? “Hello, did you go to high school in Tuusniemi at the end of the seventies? Do you remember Anneli Karttunen? I’m her daughter. We met at her funeral when I was four.”

Lying had never been hard for me, and being honest was difficult. The service gave me both home and cell phone numbers for Kari Suurluoto and an address in Espoo’s Tuomarila. So at least he wasn’t a cop or so secretive that he needed to hide his address. I turned my computer on and searched for him on the web. The only results were for the Finlandia skiing competition. He was in good shape and had skied the thirty-one-mile route in three and a half hours. He was in his late forties by now.

I heard the door slam. Monika was back. There were only a few dinner reservations, and everything seemed to be going smoothly at Sans Nom, so the two of us weren’t needed there all the time. I hid the ring in my pocket and took the photo album to my room. Maybe I would show it to Monika later, when I was less upset about the images.

“Want some black currant leaf tea and potato pasties? Maija Hakkarainen sent me a care package,” I said to Monika. We’d invited the Hakkarainens to the grand opening, but they couldn’t leave their cattle behind that easily. Maija had promised they’d come and visit the next time they secured someone to look after their farm. Uncle Jari and I had occasionally milked their cows when the Hakkarainens had funerals or graduations to attend.

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