“Dammit, Antony, this isn’t funny. She got through all my security. Every trick in the book she unraveled.”
“Tell me you didn’t use an action sequence to unlock your vault,” Antony says.
“What the hell does that matter? I had all the traditional security on it as well.”
“It’s sloppy. And obviously ineffective.”
“All that may be true. But now I’m looking for the girl.”
“How did you meet her?”
“She paid off one of Sylvester’s escorts to take her place and get in my apartment.”
He roars again. Shit, this is enraging. But it’s also Antony, so I have to keep my cool.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” I say. “But I have one hundred forty million on the line.”
“I know,” he says. “It’s shocking. I had a feeling one of these young women would find your Achilles’ heel.”
“And what would that be?” I ask, anger slicing through my words. “Because you know damn well I’m one of your top protégés.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” he says. “But now it seems you have competition.”
“Her? I doubt it. What’s my Achilles’ heel?” I want to know what he thinks my weaknesses are, so I can get rid of them.
“Women,” he says. “You want to fuck them sideways and throw them aside. This one got you. She bested you. You underestimated her completely.”
I exhale harshly, my fingers pressing into my temple. “Fine. That’s obvious. Now I have to find her.”
“What was she into? Every jewel thief has a fetish.”
“I think it was about the tiaras,” I say. “She knew a lot about them. There were items in the vault she could’ve taken, but she didn’t. The tiara was not even the most valuable.”
“What’s my cut if I help you?” Antony asks. “You know nothing in the Den comes for free, especially if I’m throwing one of my own girls under your bus.”
“Ten million on the sale of the swords,” I say.
“She might give me more if she comes to me with them,” he says.
“That’s not the honor of the Den.”
Antony huffs. That’s more of the reaction I expect from him. “You are asking for honor among thieves,” he says.
“You drilled it into us.”
“All right, ten million for me and ten million to the girl. She did best you.”
My nostrils flare. I’ll make the girl fear me so hard that she will never claim her damn ten million. “If she wants it.”
Antony grunts. “I suppose that will remain to be seen.”
“So what have you got?”
“I remember a girl with a tiara fixation,” Antony says. “She went by Marissa. Long blond hair. On the skinny side. Beautiful. Young. She would’ve been about twenty-two at the time, making her something like twenty-four now.”
“This girl had dark hair,” I say. “Tanned olive skin.”
“Who’s to say with salons and tanning beds,” Antony says. “But this girl was whip smart. Way more talented than the jobs that she was attempting to pull.”
“I don’t see how it could be her. I asked for a dark-haired girl less than an hour before she got there. No one could pull a job like this with so little notice.”
“You could have done it,” Antony says. “And I believe you’ve met your match.”
I picture Jade naked on my balcony, her hair blowing wild as I fucked her. She was a match all right. God, I hate her.
“Jacob,” Antony says. “Think like a thief. If this girl is into tiaras, she’ll find where they are. She found yours and planned a job. She’ll find others. Follow the crowns, and you’ll find the girl.”
“She has swords that she can retire on.”
“But no buyers. She’ll be looking for help. Or she might lie low.”
“She better.”
“I’ll let you know if Marissa speaks to any other members of the Den.”
“Great.”
“And Jacob, keep quiet about this. We’ll keep the situation as limited as possible. I won’t have your little problem bringing down the reputation of the Den.”
“Are you telling me not to come to the Den?”
“No, just to avoid calling attention to yourself and your mistake.”
“Fine,” I say and end the call.
My very reputation is now being called into question. This will not stand.
Regardless of whether this girl is Marissa or Jade or the devil herself, I will hunt her down and she will pay.
8
Jade
I feel cut off from the world. I can’t talk to Sabrina or I might endanger her. I have to avoid my own apartment in case Jacob has figured out who I am. I can’t go to the Den and speak with any of the other thieves. Jacob could go there and recognize me.
I’ve stayed holed up in a hotel room in Queens. I sent the tiaras to my usual safe, but it was trickier deciding what to do with the swords. Whoever had them couldn’t know what they were, but they had to treat them like the most valuable thing they owned.
I finally decided on a friend who owns a pawn shop with a side business handling stolen goods.
She’s not part of the Den network, so Jacob Holt shouldn’t know about her. She’s small-time. I told her the swords were important for their historical value. She has a safe in her store, and I can only hope that they are okay there, and no one among Jacob’s allies figures out where they are and involve her in this.
For five days I haven’t left my hotel room. I have to subsist on what cash I have on me, afraid to touch any of my accounts. I’m paranoid beyond belief that I’m being watched.
But on the sixth day after my theft from Jacob Holt, I begin to relax. He doesn’t know where I am, or he would’ve found me by now. It’s possible he doesn’t even know who I am.
In fact, maybe he hasn’t been into his vault to even notice the swords are gone.
I start to breathe again.
I venture out into the world and buy a new burner phone from a guy on a street corner. I call my friend Elena from the Den. She trained during the same period that I did, and her area of interest is gold. There isn’t a brick in this country that she doesn’t track.
Since tiaras rarely use enough gold to interest her, we never cross on jobs and never have to compete. So we became friends.
I sit in the far corner of an ordinary deli and dial her.
Elena picks up with suspicion. We all do when we are called unexpectedly.
“Who is this?”
“Elena, it’s Marissa.”
“Where the hell have you been? The Den is a bore without you. All those asshole men preening like peacocks as if none of us ever did a job as big as their dicks.”
Elena makes me laugh. She also just told me a lot. One, no one is asking around the Den for me, at least not obviously enough that she would hear.
I can relax.
“I’ve been keeping a low profile,” I say to her.
“You should come on down,” she says. “I’ve heard that Elliott Gill is going to give us a fresh list of upcoming jobs. One’s a transit. Armored cars are like a convenience store for thieves.”
She isn’t wrong.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” I say, “but I’m a little anxious about being at the Den since I had a run-in with someone.”
“Oh, dish!” she says. “That jerk Robert has been talking smack about some female thief, and I wondered who had gotten under his craw. Was it you?”
I consider my answer. This might be a good way of staying away from the Den without alerting Elena to anything that might get her in trouble later. “I never was a fan of Robert,” I say. That’s the truth, at least.
“No one is,” she says. “The Den won’t be very fun without you if you’re avoiding him.”
“I just did a heist,” I say. “I might take a little time off before I train up on another.”
“Oh no, you totally want in on Elliott’s scheme. Six
tiaras. One very rare. First time on tour.”
My skin prickles. “Which one?”
“I don’t know my crowns, but he mentioned the Fife tiara? Is that a good one?”
My hands start to shake. “That tiara just resurfaced a few years ago after a century in hiding.”
“Oooh, then say you’ll run the job with me. There’s Egyptian gold in the traveling exhibit, some from the tomb of Tutankhamen. I’d totally go for that to do a job with you for once.”
“We’ve never run a job together,” I say. God, the Tiara of Fife! And with Elena. Plus, it would get me out of New York.
“Meet me at the Den? Hear him talk?” she asks.
Do I dare? After that wild night with Jacob?
No, he’d recognize me in an instant.
“I can’t go there,” I say. “Trust me on this. But can we meet the next morning? We could go over the plan.”
“Sure,” she says. “I’ll find out who else wants in. If it’s Robert, should I pass?”
“No,” I say. “I can suck it up.”
I wonder if Jacob Holt will be on the job. Surely not. Armored cars would not be his style. But I’ll make sure.
We arrange where to meet, and I head to the salon. I need to go blond again, get my hair cut in a bob, and stop by a cosmetic store. It’s time to try a whole new look.
9
Jacob
The Den is busy tonight, filled with people anxious to identify potential marks and collaborate on a heist. The room fairly buzzes with excitement.
I sip a drink and watch from one of the far corners.
I’m aware I’ve been discussed. Occasional furtive glances tell me that my leadership has been called into question. No one knows about the woman, at least. Just the swords, since the buyers placed inquiries. I regret telling anyone that I had my eye on the hilts. It had been a solo job. No one had needed to know until I had them.
Vanity, pure and simple. I thought myself above failure.
Elliott, another leader of the Den and one I consider a friend, answers questions about three potential jobs. The first one has most everyone excited. It involves a shipment of prototype full-body virtual reality suits, something that has the technology hunters practically pissing themselves. Apparently, there is a huge market for stolen future tech. Every company wants to see what every other one is doing and will pay top dollar for it.
I find it inelegant, but numerous young bucks and a fair number of the women are climbing over themselves to be involved.
“Jared will be leading that one,” Elliott says, pointing to one of our comrades. “You can speak with him after the presentation.” He glances over at me as if to share in our mutual annoyance. I swear the Den is infested with these low-level, short-term gain-seekers. Elliott and I favor things that last, items treasured for centuries that will continue to be sought long after our careers have ended.
He speaks about an art exhibit at a private home where all new security is being installed, leaving many opportunities to both infiltrate the company providing it and defeat it, since its parameters will not be well known. He reveals several items from the collection projected onto multiple screens around the room, paintings and sculptures and a few ornate vases. There’s a murmuring among the art lovers, all discussing the pieces and who might be in the market for them.
“Who’s the lead on that one?” someone asks.
“Robert,” Elliott says, gesturing toward the man. “You may speak to him about it.”
He moves on to the jewelry exhibit. Multiple images project throughout the room, showing the items that will be traveling by armored car from New York to Seattle. He moves through them quickly, downplaying their value to avoid generating too much interest. There is only one person we really want to come.
I watch faces. Jade isn’t here. I didn’t figure she would be. Antony confirmed that she has been notably absent from the Den since she stole my swords last week. What I’m looking for is someone here who knows her, one of the other minor female thieves. All I want is someone to tell Jade about the most important element of this collection, one she will not be able to resist.
Elliott talks on. “Of particular interest to some of you would be the tiara collection.” He changes all the slides to show the same tiara.
“The Fife tiara was locked away for over one hundred years,” he says. “It was last worn by Princess Louise of Wales when she married the Earl of Fife in 1889. A few years ago, it was used to settle an estate, refurbished and placed on display at Kensington Palace. Its inclusion in this traveling exhibit has caused quite a stir among the historic tiara and crown community.”
He scans the room, as do I. He is in on the ruse, and his performance tonight is far more important than anything I could do. He must interest someone who can get to Jade without creating competition for the job.
And I can’t appear to be involved. Jade knows me. But Elliott, having stature and experience, is the perfect person to lead this heist and draw her in.
A girl with hair so vividly red it makes her head look like a cherry raises her hand. For a moment my heart squeezes, but then I recognize her as one of the lesser women in the Den. Not the one I lost so many years ago. She was a natural redhead anyway.
“Is this the one with the armored vehicle as the mark?” she asks.
I watch her carefully. She is certainly not Jade. I will know her when I see her no matter what she does to her hair. But the timing of her question is of interest. Just after the Fife tiara.
“What is your name, honey?” Elliott asks.
Her face betrays her annoyance. None of the girls in the ring enjoys being called by endearments. But it is one of many ways that the Den deals with the women in our ranks. It keeps them in their place.
As well we should, given the behavior of one of our own. Jade has ensured none of the men of stature will trust a single one of the young playthings in our midst.
My anger threatens to take over my expression, and I must clamp down and think of something other than that thieving woman.
“Elena,” she says.
“We do not recommend infiltrating the museum itself,” Elliott says smoothly. Everything he is saying is a lie. “The owner comes from a military background and believes in firepower over alarm systems.” He gives her wink. “We wouldn’t want your pretty face to be marred with bullets.”
His condescension makes the girl frown again, but she persists. “How many people would be needed to take on the armored car?”
I have to control my annoyance. These are basic tenets, all part of Antony’s training. This is why these girls will never move up in ranks in the Den. They don’t even know how to put together a team without someone holding their hand.
But Elliott is far more patronizing than I am.
“Only three or four,” he says. “There is a particular item in this collection that interests me greatly. So I will be leading this expedition from New York to intercept the exhibit outside of Cleveland.”
The girl raises her eyebrows as the rumbling in the room rises a notch. No one had taken this job seriously until Elliott claimed it as his own.
“That’s enough for now,” he says, quieting them. Elliott often takes names from the floor, but he knows today is not the time to do that. He wants to control who volunteers for our expedition. We need to speak to this girl, judge her interest, and determine if she knows Jade. If she is truly a friend, she may be fully aware of Jade’s predicament as well as my involvement. She can’t know I have any interest in this job. Or Jade.
Elliott shuts down the displays, reminding everyone to speak with the leads of the other two heists if they are interested.
The room begins to shuffle. A couple people walk in Elliott’s direction, but I hurry to head them off. Elliott moves straight for the girl who spoke up.
I watched him from the corner of my eye as I make small talk to the others as a diversion. Elliott will signal when he has determined whether or not this girl can he
lp us get to Jade.
He smiles and begins his trademark witty banter. I can spot when it begins to work. Despite the girl’s annoyance with him earlier, she warms up and flutters her eyelids. So typical. He gives her a nod and then turns to me with another. I excuse myself from the pair and allow them to make their way to Elliott.
He will report to me later. Hopefully I am one step closer to luring in that woman. She hasn’t tried to sell the swords, so they must still be in her possession.
I’ll take them from her, and then my way with her will be far more savage than the night we met.
My body tingles with the thought of her naked in my arms again. I remind myself that it is punishment, nothing more, and head out into the New York night.
10
Jade
Elena meets me the next morning for coffee at a nondescript little hole in the wall in Brooklyn.
“Your hair,” she says, sitting across from me. “You cut it!”
I touch the chin-length bob self-consciously. I’m back to blond, but I haven’t had it this short in years. “Yeah, I needed a change.”
“It’s adorable.”
“Thanks.” I push the caramel latte toward her. It’s her favorite.
“You are such a doll!” She cups her hands around it. It’s raining outside, and her cherry hair glistens.
“Where’s your umbrella?”
“Some kid stole it from me on the subway!” she says. “Nabbed it as he walked off the train. The irony!”
We both laugh.
“So what did you learn?” I ask.
“Elliott himself is doing this job,” she says. “Can you believe it? He pissed me off totally while he was presenting. Called me honey.” She tosses me an angry look. “But then afterward he came right up to me, and oh my God. I think my panties fell off just talking to him.”
“So what are you more interesting in doing? The job or the man?”
“Both!” she says.
“So are you in?”
The Diamond Thief Page 4