Royal Heist

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “We’re going after whoever comes out of that building.”

  As he spoke, Paul shouted from the far exit.

  Galen slid into the driver’s seat and put the car in Reverse. It was pointed in the exact opposite direction—no doubt the man in the window had realized that, and headed for the farthest exit. The street was far too narrow for Galen to turn the car around.

  Punching the gas, Galen tore backward, keeping the wheel straight to avoid scraping against the nearby buildings.

  Paul darted into the street.

  Galen slammed on the brake, narrowly avoiding hitting his fellow guard.

  “What’s going—”

  “Head down!” Galen reminded Ruby as she tried to see what was happening. As soon as Paul leaped out of the way, Galen hit the gas again, backing as far as the next intersection, then whipping the wheel in a tight curve so that the nose of the compact coupe was pointed in the direction Paul had run.

  With squealing tires a vehicle took off from the cross-street ahead, leaving the pavement for an instant as it jumped the natural ridge of the centuries-old street.

  Galen accelerated after the car, passing Paul just as the guard whipped around, running in the opposite direction. “Ruby, look back and see what Paul’s doing,” Galen requested, wishing he had worn his earpiece so he could hear what his peers were up to—assuming their communication devices hadn’t been jammed again.

  He kept the car in sight as it made for the busy shopping district directly ahead. No doubt the vehicle had been strategically positioned to reach traffic quickly.

  “He’s running after a man on foot,” Ruby explained. “They went around the corner. I can’t see them anymore.”

  “Another man on foot?” Galen didn’t like the sound of it. How many men were they up against? Had the driver ahead of him picked up a third man, or was he only acting as a decoy to draw Galen away?

  They entered the shopping district. Startled pedestrians scrambled in front of him, their shopping bags swinging wildly, obstructing his view as cars and bicycles honked at the vehicle he was trying to follow.

  Another car pulled out in front of him, then stopped in the middle of the street because pedestrians scrambled to pick up the bags they’d dropped in all the confusion. Pedestrians in Lydia had long enjoyed right of way privileges over vehicles—a freedom Galen had never begrudged them until that moment.

  Galen tried to see past the car, but it blocked his view of the street ahead. He opened his door, unbuckled his seat belt and stood, second-guessing his decision to tell Oliver to send the officers stealthily. They’d arrived in a vehicle that wasn’t equipped with lights or sirens, leaving him with no way to force the pedestrians to clear the street.

  Far ahead he could still see the escaping car.

  In front of him, the last woman finished gathering her things and the road-blocking vehicle began to move. Galen slumped back into his seat and got the car in gear, but by the time the car ahead had moved, there was no sign of the vehicle he’d been tailing.

  “Are you going to go?” Ruby asked.

  “Which way?” Galen’s fingers twitched with coursing adrenaline. He wanted to tear off up the street, but he didn’t know which road to take, and there were too many innocent bystanders ahead, blocking his way, risking potential injury if Galen tried to steer the car through their midst.

  “I don’t know.” Ruby’s voice caught, and Galen realized the fear and disappointment of the chase, on top of the emotional confession they’d interrupted, were taking their toll on her.

  “I’m going to head back and see what Paul found.” He carefully turned the car around, grateful the street was wider in the shopping district.

  But as he approached the studio, he recognized Paul and Sam walking back to the building from the opposite direction.

  “They didn’t catch him.” Ruby had her head up again, watching through the front windshield and could see the men were alone.

  Galen drove up to them and rolled down the window.

  “He had a motorcycle waiting down the street.” Sam shook his head with regret. “We tried to keep up.” He shrugged, the chase obviously futile, man against machine.

  “How many men were there?” Galen asked.

  “Two came out the front door.” Paul pointed to the end of the building he’d covered. “One got in a car, the other on the bike.”

  “A car?” Galen almost didn’t want to know the answer. “Did it have a driver waiting?”

  “Yes.” Paul answered without hesitation. “He had the motor running and pulled up to meet him. Based on the timing, I’d say they were coordinating their movements, probably through earpieces like ours.”

  “Did they jam your signal again?”

  “Not this time. They must not have been expecting us.”

  “But,” Sam added, “if they’re able to jam our signals, wouldn’t they be able to listen in on our conversations, as well?”

  “You’re right.” Paul hung his head.

  Galen felt the weight of Sam’s realization. If their adversaries had been listening to Sam and Paul’s conversation, they’d have known the men were after them, and they could listen in on everything the guards might say in the future.

  But how were the guards supposed to communicate otherwise? Even if Simon managed to dig up earpieces that worked in some other format, that their opponents couldn’t jam or listen in on, it would take time to have them delivered to Lydia, and more time for the guards to acclimate to using them effectively.

  Captain Selini wasn’t going to like what they’d learned.

  More than that, Galen feared the captain wouldn’t like what they hadn’t learned, either...such as the identity of the intruders and what their determined adversaries were after.

  “I’m going to take Ruby to the palace. Do you two want a ride?”

  Sam and Paul looked at each other.

  “I think we should walk through the building again.”

  Galen nodded. “Be careful not to touch anything. We’ll have to get our investigation crew in there to scour for clues.”

  “If these guys are half the professionals they seem to be, I doubt the investigators will find anything,” Paul predicted.

  Ruby let out a tiny groan of disappointment from the backseat, reminding Galen that she could hear everything they said. He was concerned enough about her reaction to what had happened. He didn’t need Paul or Sam bolstering her fears.

  “Stay safe,” Galen called out to the men as they turned back toward the studio. Then he backed down the street, whipped the car around and headed the few blocks toward the palace.

  “I never got to secure my papers,” Ruby whispered from the backseat, her words so faint she might have only been speaking to herself.

  Still, Galen felt he needed to respond to try to reassure her. But what could he say? Everything they’d learned only made the situation worse. The work she loved had been compromised. He couldn’t think of one thing they’d gained through their efforts.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her as he pulled up to the vehicle gate at the palace. “Things can only get better now.”

  “Can they?”

  Galen could hear the discouragement in her voice. As soon as they were out of the car, he’d take a moment to talk to her. He wanted to insist that they’d hit bottom, to convince her there was nowhere else for them to go but up. But as the gate in front of him opened and he pulled through toward the garages, Galen saw a straight-backed figure approaching from the direction of the royal guard headquarters. There was no mistaking the captain’s uniform.

  Jason Selini did not look happy.

  SEVEN

  “Oliver dispatched Paul and Sam to Princess Anastasia’s studio.” Captain Jason Selini scowled at Galen as he stepped out of the
car. “I understand there were three men involved in a break-in on royal property, yet none of them were brought into custody.”

  Ruby clambered out from the backseat, grateful Galen offered her a hand as she stepped onto solid ground. She blinked in the bright sunlight, observing Galen’s superior officer as he raked his hands through his hair.

  The captain looked upset. Ruby hoped he didn’t blame Galen for letting the men get away. Galen still had hold of her hand, and she held on, grateful for the courage his touch imparted.

  “Harris.” The captain addressed Galen by his last name. “I want to see you in my office immediately. Alone,” he added, then glanced at Ruby before turning his back to them both and heading for the royal guard headquarters.

  Ruby understood. She wasn’t welcome at their meeting. Though she’d have liked to hear what the captain had to say, she needed to find Stasi.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Galen asked her softly, meeting her eyes for a long moment in spite of his captain’s immediate request. She wanted to finish the conversation she’d started, but that would obviously have to wait.

  “I need to tell Stasi what happened at the studio. She should be inside the palace having a dance lesson right now. How much can I tell her?”

  “As much as you think she’s ready to hear. Just make sure she understands that the investigators will need to finish their work before she can go inside. We don’t want to risk contamination—”

  “Harris!” The captain shouted from the doorway of the guardhouse.

  Galen gave her hand a final squeeze as he turned and trotted away.

  Ruby watched him go and prayed silently that his superior officer wouldn’t take out his obvious anger on Galen. When the guard’s lean figure disappeared through the headquarters door, Ruby turned toward the palace. She hated to report more complications to Stasi, who was already under pressure to meet the deadlines that lay ahead. But as first assistant to the princess, Ruby knew she needed to make her report in person.

  The marble halls of the palace felt cool, the high ceilings absorbing the heat of the September afternoon. Ruby checked the main ballroom on the first floor, but the room with the pale blue walls, gilt plasterwork and frescoed ceiling sat empty, its heavy chandeliers unlit.

  Of course Stasi wasn’t having her lesson in the main ballroom. The antique parquet-inlaid floors were spared unnecessary foot traffic so they’d look their best for high celebrations. Quickly, fearing she’d already wasted too much time, and not wanting Stasi to learn of the break-in through the grapevine, Ruby scurried up the stairs to the lesser ballroom.

  Music trailed down the airy hallway toward her ears, the sound of laughter rising above the notes. From the sound of it, most of the royal family was present, perfecting their waltzing skills in preparation for the upcoming wedding celebrations, when the eyes of the kingdom and much of the world would be on them.

  Breathless from her flight up the long staircase, Ruby paused in the doorway to collect her thoughts. Too much had happened that afternoon, none of it good. What could she tell her friend that wouldn’t upset her? Stasi twirled across the floor in Kirk’s arms, her skirt swirling, before the movement of the dance turned her toward where Ruby stood.

  “Ruby?” The princess nearly stumbled over Kirk’s feet. She hurried over to her friend. “What happened? You look terrified.”

  To Ruby’s dismay, the rest of the royals stopped dancing, as well. All eyes turned to her. No doubt they’d all heard about the previous incidents and were anxious to hear the latest development.

  Ruby gulped a breath. Reporting to the whole royal family was far more intimidating than sharing the news with her friend. Galen had stressed that no one was to go to the studio, but Ruby couldn’t imagine telling Prince Alexander or King Thaddeus that they couldn’t do something if they made up their minds to do it. She tried to think how best to start.

  “Did someone come after you again?” Stasi asked.

  “No.” She heard her voice catch as the memory welled up. “They were in the studio.”

  “Who?” Stasi asked over the collective gasp of her siblings.

  “Some big men.”

  “The same men who attacked you?”

  Ruby nodded, and the royals began talking over one another in their haste to learn the details.

  “Quiet now.” King Thaddeus didn’t raise his voice, but his position of authority as the eldest sibling and highest ranking royal silenced the others instantly. “Let’s allow her to tell us what happened from the beginning.”

  Ruby tried, but when she got as far as seeing the man who looked like Luciano, the security guard from the gemology school she and Stasi had attended, the princess cut her off.

  “Luciano Salvatore?” Stasi gasped.

  “Yes. That was his last name.”

  “You’re sure it was him?”

  “No, not sure at all. It looked like him—big and tough, with a shaved head and the same eagle tattoo down his arm.”

  “Sounds like a match,” Levi Grenaldo, Princess Isabelle’s fiancé, said. “Why aren’t you sure about it?”

  “Well.” Ruby tried to think. Why wasn’t she sure? The man had certainly looked like Luciano Salvatore. “What would he be doing in Lydia?”

  “There was always something strange about him.” Princess Stasi scowled. “He was so chatty, always asking questions. Friendly, but almost too friendly.”

  “You thought he was friendly?” Ruby hadn’t felt that vibe from the imposing man. “I was scared of him. He had that crazy scar on the left side of his face—”

  “Did the man you saw today have the scar?” Kirk asked.

  Ruby closed her eyes and tried to think. She’d only seen the man in profile, and just for a moment, but he’d had the left side of his face toward her, its marred surface catching the sunlight unevenly, deepening the shadows under the old wound. “He had a scar.”

  “Then it’s got to be the same man, almost certainly.” Levi had been appointed a member of the royal guard mere days before the ambush on the royal family. He continued to guard Isabelle, though his engagement to the princess made him part of the inner circle of royalty. He turned to Kirk, his fellow guard, who stood beside him. “Let’s see if we can’t find a picture of this guy.”

  “And a record,” Kirk added.

  “Let Ruby finish her story first,” Princess Isabelle said.

  Ruby got through the rest in spurts, stopping to clarify every time the royals had a question. When she admitted that the intruders had evaded capture, Stasi started past her toward the door.

  Kirk grabbed his fiancée’s arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To my studio.”

  Ruby took Stasi’s other arm. “The investigation team—”

  But Stasi wouldn’t let her finish. “How are they going to know what’s out of place? They won’t know if anything is missing. I need to be there. You should come, too.”

  To Ruby’s relief, Levi interjected, “Kirk and I need to find out what we can about this Luciano Salvatore person. Then, with the investigation team’s approval, Kirk can escort the two of you to the studio.”

  Kirk nodded along with his friend’s plan. “That will give the team a chance to dust for prints before we get there. Then you can talk to them about what might be missing.”

  To Ruby’s relief, Stasi agreed to the plan. The princess promised to call Ruby as soon as they were ready to leave. Until then, Ruby was going to do some research of her own. Her other gemology school classmates would surely remember the chatty guard. Though New York was several time zones behind the kingdom of Lydia, it would be midmorning there at this hour. Maybe some of her friends would be online. As she headed back outside, she prayed someone over there would know more about Luciano Salvatore.

  More than anythi
ng, she wanted to know what the man was doing in Lydia.

  * * *

  Galen paced the floor behind Kirk’s chair, impatient with the way their search was going. They’d found plenty Luciano Salvatores, most of them upstanding citizens who looked nothing at all like the man he’d glimpsed in Lydia that afternoon. They’d even managed to dig up a few of them with criminal records and links to the mob, but their mug shots and personal information didn’t come close to describing the man Galen had seen.

  “He’s way too old,” Galen dismissed the next profile Kirk showed him.

  “How do you know he’s too old?” Kirk challenged.

  Princess Anastasia leaned across the arm of Kirk’s chair. “He’s too small and too old,” she agreed. “Luciano can’t be much older than any of us. I remember him talking about having served in the military. I think he joined right out of high school or maybe dropped out to join. He’s got to be under forty, maybe even younger than thirty.”

  Kirk found another search result—this time, a youngster on a ball team roster.

  “Not that much younger than thirty,” the princess corrected with a tiny laugh.

  Galen could hear the effort behind her lighthearted words, could feel the rising tension as they drew near the end of possibilities without finding anything. He prayed they’d get a break soon.

  “I found him!” Ruby’s voice carried through the open door, her excitement authentic.

  Galen spun around as she bounded into the room waving a sheet of notebook paper with hastily scrawled notes.

  “Where is he?”

  “In Lydia, just as we suspected.” Ruby laid the paper flat on the desk where they’d been working, and the four of them huddled around it as she quickly explained what she’d turned up.

  “Luciano worked as a security guard at the school in New York where Stasi and I studied gemology. He talked to students all the time—went out of his way to befriend everyone.”

  “Friendly in a creepy sort of way,” Stasi offered.

  “Definitely creepy, but since he was always so chatty with the students, I figured there was a chance some of our peers might still keep in touch with him.”