If Tomorrow Comes by Sidney Sheldon

And he slammed down the receiver.

Budge knew what Charlie Bartlett was going to say before the words were out “Jeff Stevens? Oh, yes. I collect antique cars. Jeff knows where this ‘37 Packard four-door convertible in mint condition—”

This time it was Budge who hung up

“Don’t worry,” Budge told his partners. “We’ll get our money back and put the son of a bitch away for the rest of his life. There are laws against fraud.”

The group’s next stop was at the office of Scott Fogarty.

“He took us for two hundred fifty thousand dollars,” Budge told the attorney. “I want him put behind bars for the rest of his life. Get a warrant out for—”

“Do you have the contract with you, Budge?”

“It’s right here.” He handed Fogarty the paper Jeff had written out.

The lawyer scanned it quickly, then read it again, slowly. “Did he forge your names to this paper?”

“Why, no,” Mike Quincy said. “We signed it.”

“Did you read it first?”

Ed Zeller angrily said, “Of course we read it. Do you think we’re stupid?”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that, gentlemen. You signed a contract stating that you were informed that what you were purchasing with a down payment of two hundred fifty thousand dollars was an object that had not been patented and could be completely worthless. In the legal parlance of an old professor of mine, ‘You’ve been royally fucked.’ ”

Jeff had obtained the divorce in Reno. It was while he was establishing residence there that he had run into Conrad Morgan. Morgan had once worked for Uncle Willie. “How would you like to do me a small favor, Jeff?” Conrad Morgan had asked. “There’s a young lady traveling on a train from New York to St. Louis with some jewelry…”

Jeff looked out of the plane window and thought about Tracy. There was a smile on his face.

When Tracy returned to New York, her first stop was at Conrad Morgan et Cie Jewelers. Conrad Morgan ushered Tracy into his office and closed the door. He rubbed his hands together and said, “I was getting very worried, my dear. I waited for you in St. Louis and—”

“You weren’t in St. Louis.”

“What? What do you mean?” His blue eyes seemed to twinkle.

“I mean, you didn’t go to St. Louis. You never intended to meet me.”

“But of course I did! You have the jewels and I—”

“You sent two men to take them away from me.”

There was a puzzled expression on Morgan’s face. “I don’t understand.”

“At first I thought there might be a leak in your organization, but there wasn’t, was there? It was you. You told me that you personally arranged for my train ticket, so you were the only one who knew the number of my compartment. I used a different name and a disguise, but your men knew exactly where to find me.”

There was a look of surprise on his cherubic face. “Are you trying to tell me that some men robbed you of the jewels?”

Tracy smiled. “I’m trying to tell you that they didn’t.”

This time the surprise on Morgan’s face was genuine. “You have the jewels?”

“Yes. Your friends were in such a big hurry to catch a plane that they left them behind.”

Morgan studied Tracy a moment. “Excuse me.”

He went through a private door, and Tracy sat down on the couch, perfectly relaxed.

Conrad Morgan was gone for almost fifteen minutes, and when he returned, there was a look of dismay on his face. “I’m afraid a mistake has been made. A big mistake. You’re a very clever young lady, Miss Whitney. You’ve earned your twenty-five thousand dollars.” He smiled admiringly. “Give me the jewels and—”

“Fifty thousand.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I had to steal them twice. That’s fifty thousand dollars, Mr. Morgan.”

“No,” he said flatly. His eyes had lost their twinkle. “I’m afraid I can’t give you that much for them.”

Tracy rose. “That’s perfectly all right. I’ll try to find someone in Las Vegas who thinks they’re worth that.” She moved toward the door.

“Fifty thousand dollars?” Conrad Morgan asked.

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