Sweetie's Diamonds (31 page)

The radio kept her awake.
 
She had forgotten to take some cassette tapes for the journey.
 
Her Honda didn't have a CD player so a lot of her music consisted of tapes from the eighties and nineties.
 
It was difficult to find cassette tapes in the stores now.
 
Everything was CDs.
 
Even though she had a CD player at home, and David did too, she owned very few compact disks.
 
She never had time to listen to music anyway.

When the news came on, Diane nearly turned the dial to find more music but something made her stop.
 
What was going on in the world?
 
She had been so preoccupied with her own problems that she had no idea if the country was at war or if some famous celebrity had recently died.
 

She didn't expect to hear a story about her.
 

Wanted for murder?
 
How could that be?
 
She didn't kill Greg!
 
What was wrong with those people?
 

The story suggested that she had been seen “fleeing” from the scene of the crime.
 
Apparently one of Greg's neighbors had seen her run from the house after she had discovered the body.
 
Didn't they figure out that it was
she
who had called 911?
 
Who else could have done it?
 
The police were idiots.
 
They were idiots in LA and they were idiots in Illinois.
 

When she reached Omaha, Diane had to stop to get something to eat and use the bathroom.
 
She got off the Interstate and drove a ways into the city, hoping to find a place where she could chill out and have a quiet meal.
 
In the end she decided not to waste much time, so she picked a Taco Bell.
 
It was situated in the large parking lot of a strip mall full of shops and a grocery store.
 

On the way inside she noticed several newspaper dispensers—one featured the
Chicago Tribune
.
 
She hesitated a moment and then dropped the coins in the slot.
 
She went inside the restaurant, ordered three hard shell tacos and a Pepsi, and sat down to look through the paper.
 

Sure enough, buried in the Metro section was a picture of “Lucy Luv” with Diane's name plastered beneath it.
 
The headline read:
 
“Porn Star Mom Wanted for Murder.”
 

Jesus
.
 
What was she going to do now?

The story spelled it out.
 
Greg Boston had been found in his home, his throat slashed, and his ex-wife Diane Boston was seen fleeing the scene.
 
A neighbor spotted her and had spoken to the police.
 
Apparently they didn't know who had dialed 911, for a “mystery caller” had phoned the police just minutes before the neighbor did.
 

The police were looking for her and her thirteen-year-old son, David.
 
Apparently they believed that she took him with her.
 
That wasn't good.
 

Diane ate her meal way too quickly, giving her heartburn followed by nausea.
 
The anxiety of the last two days exacerbated it and she spent the next ten minutes in the Ladies Room throwing up.
 

After tidying herself and sitting in the restaurant for a few minutes to get a grip, she returned to the car and got out her cell phone.
 
She dialed Scotty Lewis, who had left six messages on her voice mail since she left Illinois.

“Scotty, it's Diane.”

“God, Diane.
 
Where are you?”
 
Scotty sounded alarmed.

“Let's see, right now I'm in Omaha, Nebraska.”

“What are you
doing
?
 
Diane, do you know what's going on here?”

“Yeah, I just found out.
 
I'm wanted for murder.”

“The police are looking for you.
 
You need to get back here right away!
 
Didn't you get my messages?”

Diane took a breath and continued.
 
“Listen, Scotty.
 
I didn't kill Greg.
 
You should know I didn't kill Greg.”

“Well… well, of course I know that.”

“You don't sound convinced.”

“Diane, if you say you didn't do it, then I believe you.
 
It's just that this old lady who lives across the street—”

“Scotty, I
found
Greg's body, or what was left of it.
 
I panicked and ran out of the house.
 
I wasn't thinking.
 
I dialed 911 and reported it, but I was on my way out of town, remember?
 
I just kept going.
 
I know, I know, I should have stayed.
 
It would have looked less suspicious.”

Scotty sounded flustered.
 
“Christ, Diane.
 
That's the worst thing you could have done.
 
You need to get back here and clear all this up.
 
Otherwise you could be in a lot of trouble.
 
A lot more trouble than
I
can help you with!”

“I know, Scotty, but I can't.”

“Is David all right?
 
Everyone is freaking out that you took him with you.”

“I didn't take him, Scotty.
 
He's not with me.”

“He's not?
 
Where is he?”

Diane knew it was risky telling him.
 
“He… ran away.
 
That's why I'm on the road.
 
I'm looking for him.”

“Ran away?
 
Why?”

“Oh, you know.
 
Teenagers.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“I have a good idea,” she answered.
 
“That's where I'm going.”

“Where is that?”

“Scotty, I'm counting on you not to tell the police.”

“All right.”

“California.
 
LA.”

“David went there?
 
Whatever for?”

“After I find him I'll explain everything,” she said.
 
“Just tell the police and anyone else who's concerned that David is missing and that's why I left town.
 
Tell them I'm innocent of Greg's murder and that I'll be back to face the music.”

“I'll do that, Diane, but I'm not sure how it's going to fly.”

“It's going to have to for now.
 
Thanks, Scotty, you're a savior.”

“Diane, you
call
me.
 
Let me know what's going on.
 
I can cover for you for just so long.
 
You know they'll be looking for you.”

“I understand.
 
Goodbye Scotty.
 
Wish me luck.”

She hung up and started the car.
 
Perhaps it was a good thing that the police would be made aware that David wasn't with her.
 
They'd start looking for him and take some of the heat off of her.
 
Maybe they would find him before she did.
 

Diane drove out of the Taco Bell parking area in order to get back on the main road leading to the Interstate.
 
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a sign above a storefront that read “Perlman Fine Jewelry.”
 

She swung the car around and drove past the store.
 
It appeared to be fairly upscale and there were no customers inside.
 
Better yet, another sign claimed that fine jewelry was “bought and sold.”
 
Diane parked the car again, grabbed her purse, and got out of the Honda.

Inside the store a good-looking man in his thirties said, “Hello!
 
I'm Mike Perlman.
 
Can I help you?”

“I'd like to sell some diamonds,” Diane said.
 

Perlman raised his eyebrows.
 
Apparently he wasn't used to strangers walking in off the street with diamonds.
 
“I'd be happy to take a look at them,” he said.

“Believe me, you'll like them.”
 
She walked over to the counter and with her back to the man she opened her purse and removed four gems from the velvet bag.
 
She placed them on the mat, closed her purse and stepped back so that he could see.
 

His eyes widened and he blinked three times.
 

“Those are real?” he asked.

“Listen, Mister Perlman, if you're not experienced with this sort of thing, I'll have to take them elsewhere,” she said.
 

“No, no, I'm very experienced,” he said, his voice cracking.
 
He cleared his throat and went around the counter to get his glass.
 
He turned on a lamp and examined each diamond carefully.
 

“Where did you get these?” Perlman asked after several minutes.
 
It was obvious that he was awed.

“They've been in my family for a hundred years,” she replied.
 
“They belonged to my great-grandfather.
 
Now I want to sell them.”

He looked at her soberly.
 
“They're not stolen, are they?”

She did her best to look affronted.
 
“I should say not!”

“I beg your pardon.
 
Well, ma'am, I'm not sure I have the kind of money that you would want for these,” he said.
 

“I appreciate your honesty.
 
What
can
you give me for them?”

Perlman removed his glass and scratched his head.
 
“I can give you ten thousand dollars for the four of them.”

“Cash?”

He blinked again.
 
“I would have to go to my bank.”

“I'm kind of in a hurry.”

“It's here in the strip mall.
 
You wouldn't have to wait long.”

Diane knew that they were worth four times that much but she needed the cash quickly.
 
“All right.
 
Go get the money.
 
You want me to wait here?”

“Uhm, actually…”

She put up a hand.
 
“I understand.
 
I'll wait outside.
 
In fact, I'll go to the grocery store and come back in twenty minutes.
 
Will that give you enough time?”

D
riving on the main road back to the Interstate, Diane stopped at a Car Max and went inside the dealership.
 
She looked for and found an overweight salesman who just might be charmed by a beautiful blonde woman.
 

“Yes ma'am, can I help you?” he asked, all smiles.

“I want to sell my car and buy a used one,” she told him.

“I'm sorry?”

“See that Honda out there?
 
I have my title and everything right here.
 
I want to trade it in and get a new car.”

“Why would you want to do that?” the man asked.
 

Because the police are looking for this one, you idiot
.
 
“Because I'm sick of it and I want something new.
 
Is that all right?”

The salesman shrugged.
 
“Well, sure.
 
Let's take a look at it.”