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New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Lowell has more than eighty titles published to date with over twenty-four million copies of her books in print. She lives in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with her husband, with whom she writes novels under a pseudonym. Her favorite activity is exploring the Western United States to find the landscapes that speak to her soul and inspire her writing.

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Kate Chandler has accepted a commission that will solidify her reputation as a world-class gem cutter. But during what should have been a simple transfer, seven rare, priceless sapphires vanish without a trace, along with their courier, her brother Lee, who now, quite possibly, is dead. And suddenly Kate is on the run, pursued by federal agents who believe she's the criminal mastermind of a cunning bait-and-switch.

Only Kate suspects the terrifying truth: that she's stumbled into a conspiracy of deceit, betrayal, and cold-blooded murder that goes far beyond a simple jewel heist. Getting Sam Groves, the FBI special agent who's her constant shadow, to trust her is a step in the right direction -- but it may be too little and too late in a bloody game where terror dictates her every move. Because a ruthless assassin has already received the order that Kate Chandler must die ...

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The Color of Death

Avon Books

Chapter One

Sanibel, Florida
November

Lee Mandel spent a lot of time looking over his shoulder. It camewith the job. But as he stretched contentedly in the February sun,he wasn't thinking about watching his back. He was smiling at theserver who had the lithe body and optimism only people underthirty could manage.

"Hey, you sure you've got the best shrimp on Sanibel Island?"Lee teased.

"You bet your ass, sir."

Lee laughed and waved off the server. "I'll have the usual. Andcoffee as fast as your big feet can manage. Oh, and bring a coupleextra to-go bags, okay?"

The young man grinned, reached behind his back, and pulled outtwo white paper bags with the café's Soup Or Shrimp logo printed inbright red down the side.

"These do?" He dropped them in front of Lee. "I grabbed themas soon as I saw you coming up the stairs."

Uneasiness snaked through Lee. He was becoming predictable.In his business that was not only stupid, it was dangerous. But hehadn't seen anyone following him when he drove over the bridges from the mainland to Sanibel Island. Besides, once the contents ofthe courier packet were transferred to a wrinkled takeout bag, noone would suspect what Lee knew for a fact: the gems were worth amillion, minimum. Wholesale.

In the future, he'd use something even less noticeable, maybe abrown paper bag like the winos. Usually the couriers who werecarrying unique goods didn't have to worry as much as the guyscarrying watches and engagement rings.

Usually, but not always.

For the last few years there had been rumors of a new gangworking, one that targeted only the very highest end of portable andvaluable goods. The good news was that the gang wasn't as rough asthe South Americans. The new boys were slick and quiet.

The server and his tight butt disappeared back into the dark,smoky café, leaving Lee alone to enjoy the winter sun. He shiftedhis chair so that his back was to the wall of the building and wonderedwhat his sister, Kate, was doing now that she'd finished cuttingand polishing the Seven Sins. Probably she was getting ready to hitthe gem show circuit again and see if she could find some rough thatwould repay her time and effort to cut it.

Maybe if Mom and Dad let up on the grandchild subject, she'dslow down and find a good man. As it is, they're driving her nuts assurely as they drove me.

Guilt whispered through him. He should tell his parents. He reallyshould, especially now that he'd found the man he wanted tospend his life with. He just didn't want the crap that would come afterhe came out of the closet, the tears and the where-did-we-go-wrongquestions.

His parents hadn't gone wrong. He just wasn't the son they'd expected.End of sad story.

Conversation floated around Lee. Some of it came from theopen-air ground-level parking lot directly under him. Nearly everythingon Sanibel Island was built on stilts. When the hurricanescame, most of the mess just washed through underneath the buildings,leaving the higher living quarters more or less intact.

"But I want to see the treasure!"

The young girl's voice was high, stubborn, and all too clear as sheemerged from a car out in the sunstruck parking lot that tourists invariablychose. Lee smiled slightly at the idea of sizzling upholsteryand steering wheels too hot to hold, and he wondered if the snowbirdswere afraid of the shadows between the pillars holding up thesmall shopping center.

"We saw the Atocha stuff last year. Big deal." The parental voicewas frayed and impatient. "All they want to do in that so-called museumis sell overpriced pieces of eight to the next sucker comingthrough the door."

"I don't care. I want to see the gold coins and emeralds."

Lee tuned out the girl's whine even as he wondered what shewould say if she saw the seven extraordinary sapphires that werelocked in the trunk of his car. Most of the time he didn't know whathe was carrying in the anonymous packets he took from point A topoint B for various courier companies, including the one his familyowned. He enjoyed the freedom of being freelance. On this job, hejust happened to be the son of the company's owner and the brotherof the cutter, so he knew what the Seven Sins were and how muchthey were worth.

Kate had been so excited about being commissioned to cut theextra fine quality sapphire rough that she'd called him and describedthe stones to him the way he'd describe a lover. He'd visitedher twice in Arizona and been amazed at the progress from shapeless,dull bluish stone to exquisitely faceted gems that burned withan extraordinary blue color.

He'd enjoyed watching Kate's excitement. For once it hadseemed like she was years younger than he was, instead of eightyears older. Not that he blamed her for being thrilled. It was a realcoup for a relatively young cutter to score a high-end job like therough from Arthur McCloud, one of the foremost collectors ofgemstones in the world. She'd even asked that Lee courier therough to her and then courier the cut and polished Seven Sins backto McCloud. Keeping it in the family, as it were.

Squinting against the sun, Lee stared at the modest watchstrapped to his left wrist. Quarter of eleven. Plenty of time. Fromthe café, it was maybe fifteen minutes over a small bridge connectingSanibel and Captiva islands. With luck he'd have an hour afterhe dropped off the stones on Captiva to go shelling on the fallingtide and still make his flight out of Fort Myers to Los Angeles.