Now it was work work work.
Steph hung up and smiled at the enemy. Her plan was working. The man was putty in her arms, and once they pulled off Mission Lunch, she’d pull off Get Back My Damn Diamond. “All systems are go.”
“Let’s review this,” Jake said, parking his hands on her shoulders as they stood outside the panini shop. To get her to focus, but also because he liked touching her.
“Yes, let’s review everything,” she said, that same sexy tone returning to her voice. She was a live wire of sexuality today.
“If you see something or hear something, or if they start to move, you text me. It’s set to buzz when you call,” he said, letting go of one shoulder to tap his back pocket where his phone was parked.
“Let’s hope I don’t have to buzz you . . . unless it’s for me wanting you,” she said, her voice smooth like honey.
Honey. Funny that he thought of honey just now.
He bent his head closer to her, brushed a kiss along her neck. “You are driving me wild today,” he said with a groan. “But we need to get into position.”
“I can think of some positions I’d like,” she said, slipping her hands around his back, then down to his butt. For the briefest moment, she almost seemed to be patting his back pockets. Maybe she was reassuring herself that his phone was there. She probably wanted to know he was highly reachable if need be.
“As can I. But let’s save all that for later. I promise as soon as we finish today, I will be giving you a well-deserved trio of your favorite things,” he said as he extracted himself from her grip. He tipped his forehead to the sandwich shop. “And taking you there for lunch if you want. I think the look in your eyes says you’re lusting after a panini.”
“No. Just you,” she said, all flirty and dirty.
He resisted. Didn’t take the bait this time. “You’ll need these,” he said as he reached for his shades. Her gaze was fixed on his hand taking the binoculars from his pocket. He flicked them open and placed them on her face.
“Ooh, I feel like James Bond now.”
He explained how they worked, where she should station herself in the church, and his expected timeframe. “You’ll be safe there in the church. No one will know you’re involved.”
“Don’t you get yourself caught,” she warned.
He saluted her. “I’m like a cat. No one will hear me. My job is to be invisible,” he said, then made a poof gesture with his hands.
Twenty minutes later, they were in their locations, Steph watching the gallery through the church window, while Jake ambled along the street, checking out souvenirs of seashells at a shop kitty corner to the gallery. As he pretended to consider a conch shell keychain, a white Subaru with an image of an orange painted on the door pulled up and parked.
He set the keychain on its holder, left the shop, and strolled casually toward the gallery.
A woman in chef whites emerged from the Subaru, yanked open the hatchback, and grabbed a tray full of gourmet food. Jake smiled to himself as she headed to Isla’s Island Gallery.
A lunch ambush.
Nothing won people over faster than food. A free meal was, quite simply, a top trick of the trade, and one of the best methods of distraction known to mankind. If all went as planned, lunch would provide enough momentary cover for him to slip in through the back door. There were never any guarantees on ploys and decoys, but gifts of food usually granted you at least five minutes of safe cover while everyone converged on the goodies at once. Like animals guarding a meal, most people wouldn’t walk away from a delicious lunch spread.
As he neared the entrance to the gallery, he trained his ears on the conversation in the doorway as Clementine walked up the steps.
The black-haired Isla cocked her head to the side as the caterer spoke.
“Good afternoon. I’m Clementine from Clementine’s Catering here on Grand Cayman Island. I have a surprise lunch delivery for Isla and her amazing staff from Mr. Lynx O’Malley,” the caterer said, and Isla made an excited ooh sound. Clementine continued. “He wanted to send you this delicious gourmet lunch to thank you for all the hard work you put forth in representing his art and selling it.”
Isla’s eyes widened, and she waved Clementine inside. “How wonderful! Lynx is the most thoughtful artist I’ve ever worked with.”
Once the caterer crossed the threshold, Jake darted into the alley, made a beeline for the back door, and quickly wriggled it open. The task took less than forty seconds. Not quite a personal best, but damn close. He held his breath and said a quick prayer.
Keep them busy. Don’t let me be seen. Let me find the diamonds.
Quietly, he opened the door and peered around. Down the narrow hall. Toward the restroom. Then the X marked the spot—Isla’s office. Bam.
As he listened for the sounds of culinary delight in the main room—lip smacking, oohing and aahing—he opened the door, left it ajar, and spun in a circle in her office.
There was no art.
There were no frames.
The walls were bare.
CHAPTER FIVE
He was inside.
So easily.
Because that’s what he did. Slipped in and out and stole.
She was damn near ready to just let him dangle.
Hang him out to dry.
Hell, he was probably going to do the same to her. But the only way to uncover his true intention, and potentially the jewels, was to stick to the plan. That meant she was wearing his zoom lens shades and staring out a stained glass window in a Cayman Islands house of worship.
She had to give the guy credit. He’d tracked down a great lookout point and was doing the dirty work. He was the one putting himself in the line of fire. He could get caught red-handed with the jewels; that was the risk with this lunch ploy, but it was the only way. She had to run lookout because Isla, or one of her two employees, might wander to the back office any second, peek around a doorframe, and spot Jake lifting the diamonds.
Lifting the diamonds.
Lifting the diamonds.
Lifting the diamonds.
The words echoed like a gong.
Holy shit. He’d said he wanted her to be safe, but instead he’d cleverly shoved her out of his way. With her in the church across the street, he was scot-free to waltz away with all the diamonds now. Every single last one of them.
She was a world-class idiot. But it wasn’t too late to abort and restart.
Her blood pumped fast and hard. Her brain went into overdrive. Time for a new plan. He’d taken one diamond. If he found the others, he’d likely stuff them into his pocket and jet straight out of town. She’d have nothing in her hands to try to prove Eli’s innocence, though that was less likely. Still, if she had the diamonds, she could try like hell to convince her stepdad to do the right thing. She could help exonerate him. She’d tried talking sense into him, and he hadn’t listened.
But she’d have no chance of doing that if Jake beat her to the punch. She was not going to be screwed over once again by a man she trusted.
She huffed and turned around, coming face-to-face with a gentleman in slacks and a button-down. She flinched. She hadn’t expected to see anyone. But she breathed easier when his name tag indicated he worked at the church.
“Hello. Do you need anyone to pray with?” he asked, hands pressed together, bowing slightly.
“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “But it would be great if you can pray for mercy for Jake. Thanks so much.”
She practically vaulted her way to the stairwell, down the steps, and out the main door.
The new plan took shape in seconds, because that was all the time she had. She’d have to improvise, but her one supposed drawback—that people knew her in this town—was her one advantage. Steph could infiltrate. She could head straight into the gallery. Isla liked her, and Isla would probably insist she stay.
Have some beets. Enjoy some olives. Here’s some coconut flan.
She hightailed it to t
he gallery, pushing her shades up on her head. No need for the spy gear. She was invited, because she was always welcome. Privilege of being the stepdaughter, and she’d gladly take it now. She grabbed the handle of the gallery door, tugged it open, and entered a scene of art, laughter, and a smorgasbord of food she’d ordered with an untraceable gift card.
Steph waved, acting casual. “Just in the neighborhood. Wanted to say hi.”
Isla’s chocolate brown eyes lit up. She wore a sleek, short cranberry dress and her dark hair was curled in waves that fell on her shoulders. “So good to see you, Steph. You came by at the perfect time.”
“I did?” Steph asked, feigning surprise. “Lucky me.”
“Yes. Look at all our food,” Isla said, beaming as she gestured to the trays of food the caterer had set up. Isla promptly introduced her to the two employees and the caterer, and Steph hoped Clementine wouldn’t recognize her voice from the phone call.
Isla clutched her arm. “Can you join us? It’s such a treat to see you again. Come, have some beets and olives and we’ll discuss the amazing generosity of my favorite artist in the world, Lynx O’Malley. He sent this special lunch to us, and I can show you some of his art on the walls,” she said, gesturing proudly to the bright white walls adorned with his images. “And we can talk and catch up properly.”
“I would love to,” Steph said, though she had no intention of partaking in a tour. She gestured in the general direction of the back hallway, then lowered her voice. “I’m just going to pop into the ladies’ room first. Be right back.”
Isla parted her lips to speak, probably to offer to show Steph where the restroom was. But that was not going to fly. Steph might be pissed at Jake, but she didn’t want him to be caught. She spun efficiently on her heels and walked to the rear of the gallery, crossing her fingers that the trays of yummy food would continue to distract Isla and her employees. She turned the corner in the hallway, safe from the front of the shop. The food had worked its charm, rooting hungry humans to the trays, just as she and Jake had hoped it would.
Steph yanked open the office door.
Jake stood at the desk with some papers in his hand. She wanted to shout, “Busted!” but opted for a closed-mouth smile.
He furrowed his brow. Everything OK? he mouthed.
“No,” she whispered. “Get the diamonds and let’s go.”
“They’re not here,” he said quietly with a shrug.
Like she believed that.
“It’s not safe,” she said, then tipped her head to the door. “Go.”
Nodding crisply, he folded the paper, stuffed it into his pocket, and followed her lead as she shoved him down the hall and into the alley.
“What’s going on?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head. Kept her lips closed. Patted him down. Ran her hands along his sides. He squirmed and laughed.
She fought back a grin. “Ticklish much?”
“Suspicious much?” he tossed back. “Seriously, what are you doing? Not that I mind your hands on me, but something tells me you aren’t trying to cop a feel.”
“I am. I really am. I can’t keep my hands off you,” she said, trying valiantly to maintain her act as she reached into one shorts pocket, then the other. Her fingers brushed across a small glass object. Her spine tingled, and she arched an eyebrow. It felt like a jam jar. “Did you put the diamonds in a jam jar?”
He shook his head. “No. That’s a gift. But now it’s ruined,” he said with a huff.
She didn’t have time to process this comment as she patted his shirt pocket. They were all empty except for his wallet, phone, and the folded-up piece of paper. Fine, this was promising. For the most part.
“Why are you acting like I’m taking something, then?” he asked skeptically, with narrowed eyes.
“I’m not,” she said, fixing on an oh-so-sweet smile. “I was just eager to get my hands on you, and the diamonds. But there really weren’t any diamonds in there? I saw that the walls were bare.”
He held up his hands, as if he were solemnly swearing. “I didn’t find any. I have no clue how Penny got that tip, but it was inaccurate. There wasn’t even a single frame on the wall. I did find some interesting paperwork, though, about some donations—”
She pressed her finger to his lips. “Shh. I need to go excuse myself from this rendezvous so Isla doesn’t think I’m cuckoo. Then tell me all about the paperwork.” She tugged on Jake’s shirt. “You need to wait by the souvenir shop.”
He nodded but furrowed his brow. “You’re acting strange. And a little bossy.”
“It’s a full moon,” she said quickly. Jake left the alley before her and headed to the souvenir shop. While he checked out some postcards, Steph doubled back to the door and then into the gallery again, where Isla’s employees were praising the coconut flan. Her heart raced during those few moments, hoping he wouldn’t escape. But she had to take this risk of zipping back the way she came or Isla might be suspicious of her. How do burglars and career jewel thieves pull this off? Managing a reverse con was no walk in the park.
Steph tapped Isla on the shoulder and motioned for her to come to the entryway. She’d have Jake in her line of sight that way. Steph breathed easier when she spotted the back of Jake’s head and his golden-brown hair. “I hate to do this, but I just got a last-minute call to do a snorkel lesson for some beginners over at Happy Turtle, so I can’t stay,” Steph said, apologizing.
Isla frowned. “Oh no. I was looking forward to showing you the art. Can you come back?”
“I’ll try,” Steph said, casting her gaze briefly in Jake’s direction. He thumbed through trinkets on display street side, milling about in place. Steph breathed more easily. He could have been running away, absconding with more jewels. But he was staying. Maybe he wasn’t a total liar.
Which made her theories about what happened this morning even cloudier.
Steph returned her full attention to Isla, then jerked her head in surprise when she spotted something missing from Isla’s wardrobe. Steph brought her fingers to her throat. Touching her own necklace. “Isla,” she whispered, pointing to the other woman’s neck. “What happened to your diamond? Is it being resized or something?”
Isla sighed heavily and clasped her hand over her heart. A pendant dangled from her neck, but it was missing the blue-tinted gem she’d worn at her house party. In its place was a too-bright cubic zirconium. A substitute rock.
Isla dropped her voice to a barren whisper. “Stolen.”
Tension shot through Steph’s bones. She furrowed her brow. “Are you serious? When? Where?”
“Last night. Right here,” Isla said, pointing to the blond wood floors of the gallery. “During a reception. It was on my neck, then it was gone. I was freshening up my drink, and moments later, Eli noticed it was missing. It must have fallen out of the casing on the necklace, and then someone took it.”
Steph blinked. She swallowed. Her skull echoed. “Right here? In the gallery? Last night? What time?”
“It was around eight.”
Steph calculated. Jake was with her then on the boat. He couldn’t have taken Isla’s stone. “We looked everywhere. We canvassed the entire place,” Isla continued, sweeping her hands around to indicate the enormity of the search.
“But how do you know it was stolen and not just misplaced?”
“We looked everywhere,” Isla said. “As you can see, there isn’t a lot of clutter. It’s quite bare. But there was no diamond anywhere. So it can’t have been lost.”
“Do you have any idea who took it?”
“None. But thank God we moved the other diamonds from here a while ago.”
The other diamonds.
Holy moly. Steph’s jaw dropped. Clanged on the floor.
Isla admitted it. Officially. They had diamonds. Shock reverberated in her bones. But was Isla actually saying the gallery had once been the home for their diamond stash? “You had diamonds here?” she asked, pointing to the floor, trying t
o make sense of this new wrinkle.
Isla nodded. She placed a hand on Steph’s back, lowering her voice more. “We used to have a lot here, but not anymore. You can’t be too careful with precious stones. As you know, since Eli gave you one. I do hope you’re keeping it safe. As safe as can be.”
“Yes,” Steph croaked out. She had no clue what else to say. No notion what to do. This new slew of information was slamming her around, knocking her left and right, like a cartoon character being pummeled and seeing stars. She tapped her wrist once more. “I should go.”
“Let’s do this another time,” Isla said, her tone immediately jettisoning back to the fully upbeat woman Steph had briefly gotten to know.
She nearly stumbled out of the gallery, her breath coming fast, her blood racing through her veins.
Jake leaned against the brick wall of the souvenir shop, right where she’d told him to wait.
Was she wrong in her assumption that Jake had taken her gem?
Maybe he really didn’t have the diamonds from the gallery. Perhaps Isla was telling the truth, and Eli moved them to a new location a while ago. Her head swam with possibilities, with far too many permutations. She needed to regroup, but she also needed to figure out if Jake was playing her.
And there was only one way to find out.
CHAPTER SIX
Get him naked.
Not to check body cavities. Because . . . eww.
But for another reason.
Because she hardly knew which way was up anymore. She wanted to trust Jake, so very badly. But she didn’t know how to. She’d trusted Duke for years and was slapped in the face by him when their love went sour. She’d known Jake for less than a week. This was the man gunning for her stepdad. She had to be certain, beyond a reasonable doubt, that he wasn’t playing her, and the only way to be certain was to conduct a thorough check of his clothes.
The Sapphire Heist (A Jewel Novel Book 2) Page 3