Royal Heist

by Rachelle Mccalla

  But he took a step away, toward the door. “Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “We’re going to call the Verrettis.”

  * * *

  It was the same setup they’d used when Galen had taken the call from Rocco. Ruby would make the call from a private room, visible through two-way glass, while the call was broadcast in the conference room for the guards to analyze. Meanwhile, the cell phone officials would ping back the wireless connection to the area towers to pinpoint the Verrettis’ location, cross-checking whether the family was where they claimed to be.

  Galen had interrupted a lecture from the spiky-haired wedding planner to get Captain Selini’s approval.

  The captain had looked grateful for the excuse to send the woman away, with his promise to return the guards to wedding practice as soon as Stasi’s studio contents had been safely moved.

  Now Galen sat next to the captain at the conference table while Ruby punched in the phone number Carlton had given her when they had chatted online two days before.

  With each ring, Galen felt his tension rise, until he feared the Verrettis wouldn’t answer at all.

  “Hello?” The voice sounded distinctly American and vaguely annoyed.

  “This is Ruby Tate. I’m looking for—”

  “This is Milton. Did you want to talk to Vince?”

  Ruby hesitated. The plan had been to talk to Carlton. “Actually, Carlton and I were chatting the other day...” Ruby’s voice trailed off as Milton, ignoring her, shouted.

  “Hey, Vince, your girlfriend’s on the phone.”

  Girlfriend? Galen felt Selini’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t look away from Ruby’s face, which had gone nearly the color of her hair. Was she still secretly dating Vince, in spite of her claim that they’d broken up four years before? Galen didn’t want to believe it, and yet Ruby didn’t correct anyone or press to talk to Carlton instead.

  “Hey, baby.” Vincent’s voice sounded affectionate, eager. “I’m so glad you called.”

  “You—you are?”

  “I’ve been thinking about you. Where are you these days?”

  Ruby’s mouth hung open, frantic questions in her eyes as she looked at the guards through the glass for guidance on how to respond.

  The captain wrote quickly, filling a piece of paper with one word, holding it up for her to see.

  “Lydia,” she read.

  “That’s right, good old Lydia. Hey, I saw the Tate Jewelry royal wedding line got scooped.” He gave a low whistle. “That’s got to hurt.”

  “No, it’s fine. We’re fine, actually.” Ruby chirped in a voice too high, too perky to pass for her own. “The news picked up the story so it’s like free advertising.” The laugh didn’t sound like her natural laugh, either.

  “It’s okay, Ruby. I understand.” Vincent called her bluff. “And I’m here for you. My offer still stands.”

  “I don’t—” Ruby shook her head, then nodded as she read the sign the captain held, “Where are you?”

  “Where am I?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I’m in a good place. Verretti Jewels is in a good place.”

  “I mean geographically.”

  “Ah, actually we’re in your neighborhood.”

  “You are?”

  “Yeah, the whole family is on the yacht in the Mediterranean.”

  “Really?” Ruby looked almost relieved, read Selini’s sign, nodded again. “Where in the Mediterranean?”

  “Near Sicily.”

  Ruby froze. “Are you sure?”

  “Yep, right near Sicily—that’s off the eastern coast of the Italian mainland, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. So, everybody’s well? You’re all well?” Ruby chatted with Vince for several more minutes nodding politely when he told her about his father’s golfing obsession and his mother’s devotion to animal charities.

  “That’s right, I recall she had pet dogs. What breed was that?”

  “Boxers.”

  “Boxers?”

  “Yes, rare white boxers. She was quite proud of them. Sadly they were poisoned a few years ago, just after you and I broke up.”

  “I’m so sorry. I need to be going,” Ruby sent her greetings to the rest of Vince’s family before ending the call. She looked shaken as she joined the guards in the conference room.

  The captain leaned far back in his chair and blew out a long breath toward the ceiling. “Were they really white boxers?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I know the difference, and that was years ago,” Ruby apologized. “Do you think he was lying to throw us off his trail?”

  “He lied about one thing.” Captain Selini laid his tablet flat on the table so that everyone could see the screen. “He’s not near Sicily. The ping-backs tracked him to the Sardis marina.”

  Galen looked at the map, which was zoomed in to show a blinking arrow above the area of the marina where the Verretti yacht had been docked the night before. “So now what? Do we move in?”

  “What do we have on them? Attempted kidnapping?” The captain gestured to Ruby. “Can she identify them this time?”

  “I can,” Ruby agreed.

  “And Rocco Salvatore, your bounty hunter friend—are we certain he has enough evidence to convict? These people are American citizens. If we can’t hold them, I don’t want to touch them.”

  Galen met Ruby’s eyes. She’d heard every word Rocco had said to them the night before, and she’d known Rocco a lot longer than he had.

  “Call Rocco,” Ruby suggested. “Can he meet you at the marina?”

  “If we’re going to go after them, we should go now.” Galen knew that much for certain. “Before they have time to wonder why Ruby called out of the blue.”

  Captain Selini instructed Oliver, who’d been handling the connection between Ruby’s phone and the conference room, to put through the call. Galen took his place on the other side of the two-way glass, holding the phone.

  Thankfully, Rocco answered quickly.

  “Where are you right now?” Galen asked without preamble.

  “Watching the marina.”

  “Good.” He’d be able to reach the boat quickly, then.

  “Not so good.”

  “Why not?”

  “The Verrettis just cast off.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They sailed away. They’re gone.”

  “Can you see them?”

  A straining noise, as if he was checking to be sure. “No, not anymore.”

  “Do you know where they’re headed? Could we go after them?”

  “They went around an island. You Lydians have a lot of islands out here.”

  “I know.” Galen closed his eyes to the disappointed faces on the other side of the glass. “Can you watch for them and call us when they come back?”

  “Sure thing. If they return, this will be the first number I call.”

  * * *

  Two days later, as Galen arrived early for his Wednesday evening shift outside the emptying studio, Rocco finally called.

  “Found them.”

  “Where?”

  “Docked in the shallows off the coast, north of the city.”

  “Can we move in?”

  “They’re not there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean there’s nobody on the boat. They left.” As Rocco spoke, Galen scanned the street, the sidewalk, the men, royal guards working alongside professional movers, passing by carrying boxes to a waiting truck.

  And Ruby. She stood with her back to him, clipboard in hand, darting from man to man checking the stickers on each box, consulting her list, nodding and checking things off. Galen hadn’t wanted
her to help with the move, but she’d insisted she owed it to the princess after the way she’d betrayed the royal jewels.

  “Are they coming back?”

  “I imagine so. But I think the bigger question is, what are they doing on the mainland? They stayed away for two days, why come back now? What’s so important?”

  Galen kept his eyes on Ruby. Another box-toting man approached her. A big man, his face mostly obscured by a low hat, beard and sunglasses. But when Ruby looked from his box to his face, she stuttered back, mouth open and turned to run away.

  “I think I know,” Galen said, mostly to himself as he dived across the sidewalk toward Ruby, just as the big guy got his arms around her, hauling her toward the curb as an unmarked van swerved to meet them, door open, not even stopping as the man shoved Ruby inside.

  SIXTEEN

  Ruby hooked one foot against the doorframe and pushed back, fighting against the arms that held her as Carlton Verretti shoved her through the van door.

  Her resistance might not have meant much, except that Carlton suddenly tipped backward, letting go of her as he turned to face the guard who’d jumped him.

  “Run!” Galen shouted as he tackled Carlton from the back, handcuffs ready as he struggled against the bigger man.

  Ruby saw it all in one blink as she tore past them toward the safety of the studio door. Confused men from the moving company shuffled in front of her, blocking her way.

  One of them reached for her, and Ruby recognized Vincent under sunglasses and a fake beard. She screamed as she leaped in the other direction. From the corner of one eye, she saw Paul and Sam, the two royal guards who’d been on duty all day.

  “No!” Ruby screamed, trying to warn them away as Vincent drew his gun.

  She ducked to the side, tripped over the box Carlton had dropped, and tried to scramble over it when Vincent grabbed her around the waist. His gun, eerily quiet, sent bullets spitting against the limestone walls, a barrier of death between her and the guards rushing to her aid.

  “No!” She beat against Vincent’s arm, kicked backward, thrashing, hoping to hit his knee or anything more than the empty air that met her every effort. Twisting, flailing, she tried to pry his fingers loose as he bounded over the fallen boxes toward the van, taking her with him.

  Blood coursed down Galen’s face. He’d gotten one cuff on Carlton’s arm, but now Milton and Carlton had him between them, pummeling him back through the open van door as the vehicle crept down the block, gaining speed. Vince’s father and brother hurled Galen in through the van door, then jumped inside after him.

  Paul and Sam hurtled the obstacle course of boxes and ran after the vehicle, close enough to grab the rear bumper but unable to do anything to stop the accelerating van.

  Vincent raised his gun as he kept pace with the retreating vehicle.

  Still caught in Vincent’s viselike grip, Ruby lunged toward the weapon, hands swatting, fingers clawing as she did everything she could to disrupt the shots.

  Windows shattered high above them, raining down glass as Vincent’s shots went wild. He flung Ruby through the van door and joined her, slamming the door shut behind him, blocking out the light.

  Ruby landed on her back next to something bumpy and wet. She tried to peel herself away, to scramble toward the back door of the van, but Carlton had her by the arm. She swept her other hand back into something sticky...

  Galen’s face.

  He didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. Ruby froze, praying with every beat of her heart that they hadn’t killed him. His breath, faint as a whisper, warmed her cold fingers.

  He was alive. For now.

  * * *

  The contents of his stomach surged, sloshing, threatening to escape. His head throbbed. Darkness, thick like a down-filled blanket, pressed against him, against his heaving stomach and pounding head.

  His mouth felt dry, rusty. Tasted rusty. Blood.

  There were smells, too. The smell of his blood, near but not overpowering. The scent of the sea, but closer still something dank and moldering. And tar. He sniffed again, recognizing it finally. Old baked-in cigarette smoke.

  Where was he?

  Where was Ruby?

  Concern shot through him. He tried to open his eyes, stopped when he felt the resistance of dried blood caked in his lashes. Pain in his shoulder and neck told him he’d been lying on his side far too long.

  Galen flexed his fingers. They brushed against something...something soft.

  “Are you awake?” Ruby’s voice sounded dry.

  “Unh,” Galen tried to answer, nearly gagged on the blood pooled in his mouth, swallowed past his thick tongue. He remembered more now. He’d bitten his tongue when Carlton had slugged him in the jaw—that was the ache in the side of his face. He cleared his throat enough to speak. “Are you okay?”

  “More okay than you are.” She sounded weary, too.

  “Where are we?”

  “On a boat, somewhere deep below deck. The engine room, maybe? I don’t know any more than that. From the feel of it, we’ve been sailing all night.”

  “Is it night?” Galen had eased his eyes open at last, only to discover he couldn’t see anything more with them open than he had with them closed.

  “I don’t know. I’m assuming. I dozed for a while, but I must have sat here for hours before that.” She sniffled at the reminder of her vigil.

  Galen could imagine the fear she’d felt. He felt it now, rising inside him. Where were the Verrettis taking them? What were their plans? How long would they let them live?

  He had to get Ruby off the boat, get her to safety, contact the royal guard.

  As if reading his mind, Ruby offered, “They took our cell phones.”

  Of course. Galen flexed his shoulders and found his arms bound at the wrists behind him. His legs, when he tried to move them, proved to be tied together, secured to something immobile near his feet. “Can you move?”

  “I’m handcuffed to a metal bar. Whatever it is, it won’t budge and it’s bolted to something big on either end.”

  Slowly, painfully, Galen assessed their mobility, finally resigning himself to the Verrettis’ upper hand. He and Ruby weren’t going anywhere. They could hardly move.

  “You were right,” Galen admitted as their situation sunk in.

  “About?”

  “The Verrettis. They’re the ones who attacked you, not Rocco.”

  “Do you think Rocco’s really a bounty hunter? Or an accomplice trying to distract us?”

  “I was on the phone with Rocco when Carlton grabbed you.” Pain speared through his head, down his neck, as Galen fought for clarity through the fog. Had Rocco called him to distract him while Carlton made his move?

  Ruby’s voice cut through his thoughts. “What do you think they’re going to do with us?”

  “Use us to get the crown jewels.”

  “And then?”

  “Who says we’re going to let them get that far?”

  “I don’t think we have a choice. All they need is my handprint. They don’t care about having my permission to use it.”

  Galen heard the fear and the strain in her voice. He could imagine what she’d been thinking, lying in the darkness mostly alone. If she fought them, made it difficult for them to use her handprint in a stealthy way, or acted like she might try to sound the alarm, they didn’t have any reason to let her live. They’d get the crown jewels, regardless.

  The inescapable reality swirled uneasily in his gut with every rise and fall of the boat. The Verrettis’ plan couldn’t fail. Even if Captain Selini decided to post a guard by the vault, the Verrettis would simply shoot the men and take what they wanted. They’d never triggered an alarm on a heist before.

  They’d never left anyone alive who could describe the
m.

  A sliver of light cut through the darkness, marking the outline of the door. Someone had turned on a light outside the room. Were they coming for them? Galen struggled to think clearly through the pain.

  “Whatever happens,” he told Ruby, “I want you to trust me. I’m going to get you out of this, but we might have to make some sacrifices.”

  “Sacrifices?”

  Galen pinched his eyes shut. He hated the choice he was being forced to make, hated knowing what it would mean. “We have to cooperate with them.”

  “No. I’m not—”

  “Then they’ll kill you. They’ll kill us both.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not going to betray my friend.”

  “You’ll betray her either way.” The truth tore through him, somehow even worse when he spoke the words out loud. “They’ll proceed without your permission.”

  “I’ll fight them. I’ll resist.” From the sound of Ruby’s voice, Galen guessed she was crying again, could picture wet tears streaming down her cheeks in the darkness.

  “They’re not going to risk that. They’ll use your handprint by force or kill you.” Galen dropped his words to a whisper when something echoed in the hallway outside, a loud hollow sound that could mean anything. He strained to hear.

  “So if we cooperate, then what?” Ruby whispered after they waited several tense minutes and no one appeared. “They’ll get away with the crown jewels and shoot us dead, maybe shoot a bunch of other people, too. They won’t leave us alive. I looked up the heist stories yesterday. Do you know their total body count? Seventeen. They’ve killed seventeen people that we know of, plus who knows how many whose bodies were never found? It won’t matter. If we resist, they won’t know the code to open the vault door, or the glass cases. They’ll trigger an alarm and get caught.”

  “If the guards rush them in the vault, what do you think will happen?” Galen thought of his fellow guards entering the tight space, the Verrettis hiding behind the bulletproof cases with every advantage. “They’ll be shot. They’ll pick them off as they come in the door. It’s a death trap. If we’re going to stop them, it’s got to be outside of the vault. Lives or jewels. That’s the choice.”