Sweetie's Diamonds Read Free

back.”
    â€œDon’t be too long,” she said.   “I might rob you.”
    He laughed nervously and walked into the back office.   He wasn’t usually uneasy in dealing with what were obviously stolen goods.   After all, they were stolen goods, weren’t they?   Why would this pretty woman come into the shop and sell the same type of diamonds, over and over, for more than twenty years?   He had seen this woman grow from being a young girl into this spectacularly confident, mature lady.   Who did she work for?   Where did she get these diamonds?   What was her story?
    But one of his jobs as a fence was to not ask questions.  
    Moses quickly worked the combination and opened the safe.   Removing the $16,000 nearly cleaned him out.   He had to hope that Hiram could sell the diamonds quickly.
    He went back into the shop and found her bending over another case, admiring the wedding rings.  
    â€œThinking of getting married?” he asked.
    â€œOh, no,” she said, turning to him.   “Been there, done that.”   She walked to the counter as he counted the hundred dollar bills.   When he was done, she picked up the stack and placed it inside a white envelope that just fit in her handbag.  
    Moses quickly placed the two diamonds in a velvet-lined box and the woman retrieved her handkerchief.  
    â€œMight I interest you in some bracelets?   We got some nice items yesterday,” he said.
    â€œNo, thank you,” she said, her eyes twinkling.   “But I’ll see you soon.”  
    With that, she turned and walked to the front of the shop.   Moses followed her, unlocked the door, and held it open for her.  
    â€œGoodbye,” she said.
    â€œ Shabbat shalom ,” he said, and she was gone.
    Moses Rabinowitz looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was now closing time.   He shrugged, locked the door, and finished emptying the front window displays.   When he was done, he would make a phone call to his brother in New York and catch him before he went home for Shabbat.  
    They had new ice to sell.
    ***
    The nun at Saint Mary’s Convalescent Home looked up from her computer and noticed the attractive blonde standing before her.  
    â€œOh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said.   “How are you today?”
    â€œI’m fine, thank you,” the blonde woman replied.   “I want to make a payment so I need to see your billing person.”
    â€œYou can pay me if you’d like.”
    â€œNo, I want to do this in person.   It’s a cash transaction.   My name is Diane Boston.”  
    â€œJust a moment.”   The receptionist picked up the phone and punched an extension.   “Julie?   I have a Diane Boston at the front desk that wants to make a payment to you personally.   Yes.   That’s right.   Okay.”
    She hung up and said, “Sister Fletcher will see you.   Do you know where her office is?”
    â€œYes, I’ve done this before,” Diane said.   “You’re new here?”
    â€œUh huh, I started two weeks ago,” the receptionist said.
    â€œCan you tell me if Sister Jarrett is in?”
    â€œI believe she is.”
    â€œDo you think I might have five minutes with her?”
    â€œI can find out for you.   Why don’t you go on in to see Sister Fletcher and I’ll let you know.”
    â€œThank you.”   Diane moved past the reception desk and went through the double doors leading to the rest of the facility.
    Saint Mary’s was not a hospital.   It was a two-story private nursing home for a small number of seriously handicapped and invalid patients.   It also served as a rehabilitation clinic for patients that had suffered spinal cord injuries, burn trauma, and other severe problems.   There were no doctors on staff but physicians from