by Kady Cross
He had hidden it there because he knew it would be hard to recover—even harder than the piece from Wildcat. After all, he knew Wildcat well enough to know that she would have stopped beating on him once she figured he had enough. But tonight, there was no such guarantee that they would get off quite so easily.
“If anything happens tonight, I want you to run,” Jasper whispered to Finley as they walked through the large doors into the theater’s opulent vestibule.
She shot him what could only be termed as a dirty look. “I won’t leave you.”
“I need you to protect Mei. Please, promise me.”
Her stare was hard, and her mouth tight. “No. You’re the one wanted for murder, not me. You run. I can’t be trusted to protect her. I’d turn her over faster than you can blink, if it would save you.”
Jasper knew that it would be impossible—even for him— to carry a torch for three girls, but he fell a little bit in love with Finley right then. No one—and he meant no one—had ever been so loyal to him.
“I hope Griffin realizes how lucky he is to have you,” he murmured fervently.
A strange look came over her face. She looked sad. “I’m not sure he thinks himself all that lucky.”
Jasper opened his mouth to ask why and was cut off. “What are you two whispering about?” Dalton demanded. “You’re like a couple of old women.”
Gritting his teeth, Jasper turned his head to reply, but it was Finley who jumped in. “Renn just wanted to make sure my inferior female brain understood what needs to be done tonight.” Her tone was dry as the desert.
“Don’t underestimate her, Jas.” Dalton chuckled. “She’s as smart as she is pretty.”
Jasper and Finley shared a wry glance. “I’ll do my best to remember that,” Jasper replied, biting back a grin. He shouldn’t feel any humor in the situation, but he couldn’t seem to help it.
“We’ll go to our box,” Dalton informed them. “Once the performance starts, I want the two of you to go collect our treasure.”
Jasper just loved how he said “our” as though he was a willing participant—or even a partner. Dalton didn’t share well with others, and this was not going to be an exception to that rule. Once he did this, he was going to be just one more loose end that Dalton needed to tie up, unless he could come up with a plan. For all his reassurance to Mei that Dalton would let them go, he didn’t really believe it. Dalton was a man of his word, but he was also the kind of man who took disloyalty very personally. Jasper would pay for betraying him, and so would Mei.
Too bad he wasn’t as smart as he was pretty.
They climbed two flights of crimson-carpeted stairs to the floor where their box was located. Dalton had won the deluxe seating from its owner—some swell with a season subscription—in a game of cards a few nights earlier. He’d even made the man believe that offering it up was his idea, rather than a suggestion Dalton had planted. It was all handled in a charming and gentlemanly way, which won Dalton the gentleman’s regard, and that of his cronies, as well.
Of course Dalton would have to draw attention to himself by having a box for the evening. For a man who claimed not to want to be fancy, he sure made a fine stab at it. He smiled and waved at another man nearby. Jasper recognized him as one of the men from the poker game. The man tipped his hat in greeting.
Dalton sat in the front of the box, placing Mei and Finley on either side of him. Jasper and Little Hank sat toward the back, in the shadows, and the two other ragtag members of Dalton’s gang waited outside by the carriage. Jasper didn’t remember their names. They hadn’t been part of Dalton’s racket when he had been up to his eyeballs in it.
Jasper tugged on the cravat around his throat. Dalton had insisted they all dress like gentlemen, and the starch in his collar made Jasper’s neck itch. It felt like he couldn’t move freely—or breathe comfortably, for that matter. How in a rattler’s tail did Griffin stand the blasted things?
As fate would have it, that was the moment Dalton turned to regard him over his shoulder, blue eyes hard and bright as ice. “I see your friend has arrived, Jasper. What a coincidence.”
Jasper frowned and followed Dalton’s gaze as he turned to face the theater once more. There, across the open expanse above the public seating in a box exactly like this one, sat Griffin, Sam and Emily.
A thick lump formed in Jasper’s throat. They weren’t there to enjoy the show, of that he was certain. Miss Emily looked like an angel in a copper-colored gown, which warmed her pale skin. Would anyone recognize her as the girl who came looking for Finley? He noted the way she and Sam—the surly oaf—regarded one another and felt a stab of envy. And a little jealousy, for which he immediately felt shame when Mei was so close.
He wished someone would look at him the way Emily looked at Sam. Mei had looked at him like that once. Maybe she would again, if they could manage to get out of this alive. Maybe she’d leave America with him; they could have a good life in England.
But back to the matter at hand. He didn’t know how to respond to Dalton’s comment. Did the criminal suspect Griffin was there because of him? Did he think Jasper had somehow managed to contact the duke?
Once again, Finley stepped in and took the attention from him. “That’s the Duke of Greythorne?”
“It is,” he replied.
“I thought he’d be older,” she remarked, boldly staring across the theater. “He’s a little bit of lovely, innit he?”
“He is,” Mei agreed enthusiastically.
Jasper’s head whipped toward her, and he wasn’t the only one who stared—Finley and Dalton did, as well. The Asian girl shrugged her delicate shoulders. “She asked.”
Jasper had many options when it came to envying Griffin, but appearance hadn’t ever been one of them—until now. But that wasn’t his utmost concern at the moment. No, what needled him was the fact that Dalton seemed to feel exactly the same way. Could it be that he had developed feelings for Mei?
No, that was impossible. Mei was just another possession to him. Though, if Dalton had gone soft on her, then it would make him much more reluctant to kill her. More reluctant to let go of her, as well.
Meanwhile, Finley looked as though she’d like to strangle the other girl. “Maybe you’d introduce me to His Grace,” she suggested to Jasper.
Dalton reached over and put his hand on her leg, which was covered by the same gown she’d worn to break into the house party. “Not tonight,” he informed her. “We have work to do. You can work your wiles on the fancy man another time.”
Finley pretended to shrug it off, but Jasper saw the stiff set of her shoulders. If Dalton didn’t take his hand from her leg, he was likely to lose it.
Jasper looked to Griffin, wanting to see how he viewed this little display. Obviously he couldn’t see where Dalton had his hand, but he could tell that it was near or on Finley. The young duke’s jaw was tight, but he nodded in polite greeting at their pointed stares.
Dalton inclined his head, as well, then turned to Jasper once more. “Perhaps you should introduce Finley, Jas. He appears to be quite fascinated with her.”
Finley laughed and shifted in her chair so Dalton’s hand fell away. “Right, he might recognize me as the one who knocked him senseless at that house party.”
“You are a difficult girl to forget, Miss Finley,” Dalton agreed. “You would be an excellent way to divert the duke’s attention. He could be our first test.”
“Test of what?” Jasper demanded, resisting the urge to shoot a worried glance at Finley.
Dalton merely smiled. Not for the first time, Jasper was tempted to beat the smile right off the blackguard’s face. He could no longer resist glancing at Finley, who looked as though she entertained similar thoughts.
The lights went down, and a roar rose from the crowd in the pit below. A man in a suit came out to introduce the performance, and then the curtains parted, and the entertainment began. The audience quieted.
“Time for the two of you to get t
o work,” Dalton commanded in a low whisper. “Be quick about it.”
Jasper rose to his feet along with Finley. The two of them said nothing, just filed out of the box into the empty corridor.
“When this is over,” Finley whispered as they walked, “we’re going to take turns holding him down while the other beats his pretty face.”
Jasper chuckled at her bloodthirsty tone. “Sounds fun.” He liked the fact that she just assumed they would defeat Dalton, as though he wasn’t a danger to either of them. He didn’t know if she was foolish or confident, but whatever it was, she bolstered his own faith in their abilities.
“C’mon,” he said, guiding her toward the end of the corridor. “We have to get downstairs.”
“Tell me you didn’t hide it in one of the dressing rooms,” she murmured.
“No,” he replied. “It’s not in a dressing room.”
Beside him she breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”
Jasper winced. “It’s in the lobby.”
Finley halted in the middle of the carpet, turning on him with astonishment. “Are you out of your ruddy mind? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of ways to make it impossible for Dalton to assemble the damn thing. How was I to know he’d stoop to extortion?”
She scowled at him. “He’s a ruthless criminal—what else would he do?”
She had a valid point, and it made him feel stupid that he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Dalton’s never had much of an attention span. I figured he’d give up looking. Obviously I underestimated how important the damn thing was to him.”
Fists on her hips, Finley sighed. “I beg your pardon, Jasper. Of course you took what seemed like the best course of action at the time. Let’s just go and see if we can recover it and hope no one else has found it in the meanwhile.”
“I doubt anyone has,” he explained as they continued toward the staircase. “It’s not in plain sight.”
Another sigh. “Of course not,” she muttered. “That would be too easy for us.”
Jasper grinned. “Come on, ducks.” He affected an accent much like the slight cockney she used in Dalton’s presence. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
She shot a narrow glance at him, but it was softened by her smile.
It would have been too much to ask that the lobby be empty when they entered it. Why did folks bother going to the theater if they were just going to loiter about the entrance and never watch any of it? It didn’t make any sense, but then wondering at what went on in another person’s mind gave him a headache.
Unfortunately, this smattering of people would make their job more difficult than if the space was packed. A large crowd would do much to conceal them, but as it was, there would only be more witnesses to their actions.
“The far corner.” Jasper gestured with his chin. Finley followed his gaze. “There’s a loose panel in the wall. Or at least, I’d loosened it at the time. I’m hoping no one noticed and fixed it.”
Finley’s lips twisted sardonically. “It would be just our luck if they had.”
Fortunately, luck had seen fit to smile on them just a little. Someone had placed a large potted plant in that very location. It would provide a little cover—not much, but a little.
When they reached the spot, Finley gestured for him to step behind the plant. She withdrew a fan from the bag she had brought along and began to leisurely waft it. “You remove the panel,” she instructed. “I’ll keep watch.”
Jasper smiled as she positioned herself near the plant. Her body provided extra cover. She kept her gaze raised to where his face would be if he stood, so if anyone were to glance over, they’d think she was just an overheated girl talking to her escort, who was behind the plant. The fan also worked to partially obscure her features, making it harder to identify her.
No wonder Griffin fancied her so much—she truly was a remarkably useful girl. Perhaps this wouldn’t prove such an impossible task after all.
Jasper crouched in the corner and began pressing his fingers to the panel in the wall before him. It didn’t budge.
“What’s the problem?” Finley inquired, still fanning.
“It won’t open,” he replied.
“Are you certain this is the right spot?”
He shot her a wry glance, but she didn’t see it. “Yes, I’m sure. I put it here.”
“Quite a while ago.”
“It’s here,” he said firmly. “I just need to work at it. The paint’s acted as a glue of sorts.”
“Well, get to it.” She glanced over the top of her fan. “If we stay here too long we will attract attention.”
Jasper clenched his jaw. “I know. Now would you kindly stop talking like you’re my ma and keep watch?”
She didn’t respond, so he took that as a yes and went back to work. He needed to exert force on the panel to break the seal, but if he exerted too much, the sound would attract unwanted interest.
Finally he felt the wood begin to give. A corner loosened, and he pushed on either side, slowly widening the opening until he could slip his fingers inside. Using his forearm for leverage, he gradually pushed the panel aside, enough to ease his hand into the darkness beyond. Now all he had to do was pray a rat hadn’t carried the part off or—worse—that a rat wouldn’t be waiting to take a nibble on his fingers. He shuddered at the thought.
Slowly, he felt around for the pouch he’d wrapped the piece in. The panel dug into his wrist as he searched, and he reached deeper, gritting his teeth as the wood bit into his skin. Then his fingers touched dusty cloth, and he smiled. He strained his arm, now ignoring the pain, as he managed to grab hold of the pouch and tug it toward the opening. “I think I have it,” he told Finley.
“Good,” she replied. “There’s a man walking this way who seems a little too nosy for my liking.”
Jasper pulled his arm and his bounty from the wall. The panel fell back into place, leaving only the slightest gap. No one would even notice it unless they were as near the floor as he was. He shook the dust from the pouch and rose to his feet.
“Here,” he said, holding a piece of dusty paper out to her. “Put it in your bag, quick.” He didn’t have to say it twice as Finley snatched the paper and shoved it through the drawstring opening of her bag.
Jasper stuffed the piece of the device into his inside jacket pocket. Then stepped out from the corner just as the man he assumed Finley had spotted approached them. Jasper took one look at the fella and wasn’t certain if he should shout for joy or curse.
“Remember when we talked about which one of us should run if there was trouble?” he murmured.
She gave him a slightly panicked look. “Yes.”
“The fella coming toward us is Whip Kirby.”
Finley’s eyes widened, and she gave him a shove. “Run.”
Jasper did.
The rugged lawman tried to brush past Finley to go after Jasper, but she stopped him by grabbing his arm. He looked at her hand, then her face in surprise. Obviously he wasn’t accustomed to being detained by a girl.
He glared at her and tried to pull his arm free of her grip. He failed.
“Damn it, girl,” he snarled at her. “I’m trying to help him.”
“So I hear,” she replied, stepping closer so as not to call attention to them. When she’d sent him the name of the theater, Griffin had mentioned that he thought Whip Kirby might be more of a friend to Jasper than an enemy. It appeared as though the lawman was more interested in arresting Dalton. “But I don’t know you, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t just let you have him.”
Kirby shot her a frustrated look. “Saucy little thing, aren’t you?”
“A ‘saucy little thing’ that can break your arm like it was a peppermint stick, Mr. Kirby. So would you mind listening for a moment so I don’t have to resort to violence? I’ve been told I’m very good at it.”
He regarded her as though she was some kind of wild animal, which was all right with Finley,
because she was getting rather used to being looked at that way. “What do you want?”
“You know I’m a friend of the Duke of Greythorne, right?”
He nodded, his expression hard. “Though, now that I’ve made your acquaintance, I’m afraid I don’t understand how.”
That stung a little bit, but she had threatened to break his arm. “I wonder the same thing myself at times, but you don’t have to understand, sir. What you need to do is stay here with me long enough for Jasper to get back to Dalton, because if you don’t, Dalton won’t get his machine, and he won’t do whatever it is that’s going to get him arrested. You do want him to be arrested, right?”
It was obvious from the look on his face that the older man didn’t like what she had to say. However, it was also obvious that he realized she spoke the truth. He swore—very colorfully. Finley’s eyebrows rose in appreciation.
“Was your mother a fishwife by any chance?” she inquired. “Because you certainly sound like one.”
He flashed her a disgusted glance. “You realize that there’s a very good chance Renn will be arrested along with Dalton? You, too?”
Actually, Finley hadn’t realized that. She assumed she’d be back with Griffin and the others by then—Jasper, too. But there was a very good chance she and Jasper would be forced to participate in whatever Dalton had planned, if it was going to happen in New York.
She had gotten in plenty of trouble in the past, but she’d never been arrested. She wasn’t keen on it now.
“There’s a very good chance the duke won’t be able to help you, either. This ain’t England. As much as some folks seem to like his title and fancy ways, most folks in this country hate the English, and you’ll be the one who suffers for it.”
Finley swallowed—hard. It could be that he was just trying to scare her—and it was working—or he could mean every word. Suddenly, these past few days running with Reno Dalton didn’t seem half so exciting as they had earlier this evening.