by Nora Roberts
She started to reach up to the panel, snatched her hand back. Perhaps he was sleeping and wouldn’t see, but the driver might.
“Go ahead and play with them,” Jack murmured.
She flushed, shrugged. “I was just wondering what everything did.” She reached up, idly she thought, and toyed with the various light schemes. Then the radio, the television, the sunroof. “It wouldn’t be so hard to put all this in an ordinary car,” she concluded. “Certainly you could have it in a caravan, and people would feel very plush while they traveled.”
She eyed the phone, thought of her family again. “I need to get in touch with my brothers. I don’t like not being able to just ring them and tell them I’m here.”
“We’ll go by and see them in person. Shortly.”
The limo glided, quiet as a ghost, to the curb, and Rebecca had her first look at Jack’s building. It didn’t seem like much, she mused as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She’d expected a man with all his wherewithal to live in some glossy place with fancy touches and one of those soldierly doormen.
Still it seemed a sturdy sort of place to her, and pitted with character. She was neither surprised nor disappointed when he used both keycard and code to gain entrance into the narrow lobby. And yet another card, another code to access the elevator.
“I would have thought you lived alone,” she began as the elevator started up.
“I do.”
“No, I mean to say not in a flat with neighbors.”
“I do,” he said again. “I have the only apartment in the building.”
“It seems awfully big not to make use of the other space.”
“I make use of it.”
The elevator stopped. He disengaged locks and alarms, then opened the door into his living space.
“Well.” She stepped inside, onto a floor with wide, dark planks, scanned the biscuit-colored walls, the bold art, the wide windows. “You’ve made use of this space right enough.”
There were gorgeous old rugs. She didn’t know enough about such things to recognize Chinese Deco, but she liked the blend of colors and the way they accented the deep hues and deep cushions of the sofas, the chairs, even the heavy polished wood.
She wandered through, noting first it was tidy, then that it was tasteful. And last that it was stylish. She liked the wavy glass blocks that separated the kitchen from the living space, and the framed arches that led to what she supposed were hallways and bedrooms.
“It seems a lot of room for a single man.”
“I don’t like to be crowded.”
She nodded, turned back. Yes, she thought, it suited him. A clever and unusual space for a clever and unusual man. “You can be sure I won’t crowd you, Jack. Is there a place I can put my things, maybe have a wash and change before we go see my brothers?”
“Two bedrooms down the hall. Mine’s on the right, spare’s on the left.” He waited a beat, watching her. “Take your pick.”
“My choice, is it?” She let out a careful breath as she lifted her duffel. “I’ll take the spare for the moment. And I have something to say to you.”
“Go ahead.”
“I want to sleep with you, and I don’t generally have that kind of want for a man on such short acquaintance. But I’m thinking it might be better if we’re a bit careful with each other for a while yet. Until we’re both perfectly sure that the sex isn’t some sort of payment, on either side.”
“I don’t take sex as payment.”
“That’s good, and you’ll be sure if it’s offered it isn’t meant as such. I won’t be long.” She carried her bag through the arch and took the room on the left.
He jammed his hands in his pockets, paced to the window. Then turned and had taken two strides after her when his office line beeped.
He listened to his assistant relay the message that Ms. Gaye had called, again. Maybe he’d let her stew long enough.
He passed through another archway and into the small office he kept in the apartment. Before he placed the call, he checked the phone for tampering, ran a brief systems check, then engaged his own recording device.
Some might have called him paranoid. He preferred thinking of it as standard operating procedure.
“Anita. Jack.”
“Oh, thank God! I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
He lifted a brow at the frantic tone in her usually unruffled voice and made himself comfortable in his desk chair. “I’ve been out of reach. What’s wrong, Anita? You sound upset.”
“I am. I’m probably being foolish, but I am. Very upset. I need to speak to you, Jack. I need help. I’ll leave for home right now if you can meet me there.”
“Wish I could.” Not going to be too easy, honey, he thought. “I’m not in New York.”
“Where are you?” He could hear the hardening in her voice.
“Philadelphia,” he decided. “Quick job check. I’ll be back tomorrow. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know who else to call. I just don’t know anything about this sort of thing. It’s about the Fates. Remember, I mentioned them to you over dinner.”
“Sure. What about them?”
“I told you I had an interested client. I’ve mentioned it to others, made some inquiries, though I’ll admit I didn’t think anything would come of it. But it has.”
“You found one?” He opened his carry-on, took out the protective bag. “That sounds like good news.”
“I might have found one. That is, I was contacted about one, but I don’t know what to do. Oh, I’m rambling. I’m so sorry.”
“Take your time.” He unwrapped Atropus, turned her to face him.
“All right.” She took an audible breath. “A woman called me, claimed she had one of the statues and was interested in selling it. Naturally, I was skeptical, but I had to follow through. Even when she insisted on meeting me outside the office. She insisted I come to the observation deck at Empire State.”
“Get out.”
“I know. I was amused, actually. It seemed so film noir. But she behaved rather oddly, Jack. I think she must have a drug problem. She demanded an exorbitant amount of money, and she threatened me. Physically threatened me if I didn’t pay.”
A faint frown moved over his face as he turned Atropus around and around on his desk. “It sounds like you should talk to the police, Anita.”
“I can’t afford the publicity. And in any case, what point is there? They were only threats. She had a picture, I think it was a scanned print, of what might very well be one of the Fates.”
Interesting, he considered. More and more interesting. “If it was, you know computer images can be generated easily. Sounds like a standard con.”
“Well, yes, but it looked genuine. The detailing on the statue. I want to pursue this, but I’m . . . I confess, I’m more than a little shaken. If I go to the police, I’ll lose this contact for my client.”
“How did you leave things?”
“She wants to meet me again, and I’ve stalled her. Frankly, she frightens me. Before I arrange any sort of meeting with her, I need to know who I’m dealing with. Right now I only have a name, the name she gave me. Cleo Toliver. If you could find her—”
“I’m not a detective, Anita. I can give you the name of a good firm.”
“Jack, I can’t trust this to a stranger. I need a friend. I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I’m sure I’m being followed. Once I know where she is, who she is, I’ll know if I should try to negotiate this deal or take some sort of legal action against her. I need a friend, Jack. I’m very unnerved by all this.”
“Let me see what I can do. Cleo Toliver, you say? Give me a description.”
“I knew I could count on you. You’ll keep this off the record, won’t you? A favor for a friend.”
He glanced at the recorder. “Naturally.”
IN UNDER AN hour, Cleo let out a whoop of joy. “That’s gotta be the Chinese food.” The thrill of pot stickers might have had her
leaping to the door herself if Malachi hadn’t intercepted her.
“Let’s just have Tia take a look and be sure.”
With some regret, Tia set aside Wyley’s journal and walked out of the spare room to the front door. One look through the peephole had her gasping in surprise.
“It’s Jack Burdett,” she hissed. “He’s got someone with him, but I can’t really see her.”
“Let’s have a look.” Malachi nudged her aside, looked for himself, then let out his own whoop. To Tia’s surprise, he flipped locks, pulled open the door, then yanked the redhead into his arms.
“There’s my girl!” He spun her once, kissed her hard, then dropped her back on her feet. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded in a lightning change of mood. “What the hell are you doing with him?”
“I’ll tell you if you give me two seconds to get a breath.” Instead of answering, she turned to launch herself at Gideon. “Isn’t this a wonder? The three of us in New York.”
“I’d like to know why we are,” Malachi continued, “when you should be home.”
“So you and Gid can have all the fun? Bollocks to that. Hello, you must be Tia.” Smiling broadly, she stuck out a hand, grabbed Tia’s and shook hard and fast. “I’m Rebecca, and sorry to confess, I’m sister to these two heathens who can’t be bothered to tell you who’s walked in your door. It’s such a lovely place you have here. It is Cleo?” She turned to the brunette who leaned lazily against the back of the couch. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. This is Jack Burdett, as Tia already knows, and we’ve brought considerable news with us.”
The bell rang again.
“That better be the Chinese,” Cleo said. “And let’s hope he brought extra egg rolls.”
“Becca.” Gideon drew her aside, lowered his voice as Tia dealt with the delivery. “You’ve no business running off this way with a strange man.”
“Why not?” Cleo demanded. “I did. Tia, I’m going to open some wine. Okay?”
“Yes.” Because her head was spinning, Tia leaned back against the door, her arms full of Chinese takeout. Her apartment was full of people, and most of them were talking at once. In very loud voices. She was going to eat food loaded with MSG and would probably die young because of it.
Her mother was barely speaking to her, there was a priceless objet d’art hidden behind the two-percent milk in her refrigerator, and she was sharing her bed with a man who was currently shouting at his sister.
It was exhausting. It was . . . wonderful.
“Been a busy little bee, haven’t you?” Jack commented.
“Here. Let me give you a hand with those. Anybody order pot stickers?”
“I did.” Cleo wandered over to him with an open bottle of wine. “I might share if you can manage to shut those three up.”
“I can do that.” He angled his head, took a good long look at her. “She didn’t do you justice. Didn’t figure she would.”
“Oh. Who?”
“Anita Gaye.” The name, as he’d expected, dropped the room into silence. “She called about an hour ago, asked me to find you.”
Cleo’s fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle. “Looks like I’m found.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rebecca demanded.
“Easier to tell it once. She gave me the impression you’re a dangerous character,” he said to Cleo.
“Bet your ass.”
“Good. Let’s break out these pot stickers and talk about it.”
HER LIVING ROOM was a mess. Correction, Tia thought, her life was the mess. There was a voice inside her head lecturing her to clean it up, this very minute. But it was a little hard to hear it with all the voices going on outside her head.
She now had connections to thieves and murderers. And two precious objets d’art in her apartment.
“Cunningham,” Malachi said as he studied the two statues. “It just figures. If you think about it all, if you believe the way life spins around, it just figures. There’s two of them.” He looked at his brother. “There’s what we were after.”
“We were,” Gideon agreed, “at the start of it.”
“We’re not at the start of it anymore.” Cleo surged to her feet, rage trembling through her. “That one’s mine, and don’t you forget it. I’ll see it melted down into a puddle before that bitch gets her hands on it.”
“Calm yourself down, Cleo,” Malachi advised.
“The hell I will. The three of you want to pay her back, that’s your business. But it stopped being about money when she had Mikey killed. He’s worth more than money.”
“Of course he is.” For the first time in days, Gideon touched her, gently, just a brush of his hand against her leg.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” Rebecca set down her wineglass. “I wish there was a way to make it right again. It’s clear enough we have to think of something else. None of us planned for anything beyond skinning her for money once we found these two. Christ knows why we thought we ever would, and still we have. That must count for something.”
“I won’t sell it to her. Not for any amount.”
“How about selling it to me?” Jack used chopsticks expertly for another bite of pork-fried rice.
“So you can turn around and sell it to her?” Cleo demanded. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m not going to sell anything to Anita,” he said icily.
“If you think she’ll sell you the one she has, you’re nuts.” Disgusted, Cleo stretched out on the floor again.
“I’m not buying anything from her either.”
“They only achieve their true value as a set,” Tia pointed out. “If you’re not going to negotiate for the set with Anita, the only way to get the first one back is to steal it.”
Jack nodded as he topped off two of the glasses still on the coffee table. “There you go.”
“Oh, I like that way of thinking.” Pleased, Rebecca sat up straight, shot Jack a warm, approving look. “Still, you have to remember that if it’s stolen back, it was stolen from us to begin with. Or, I suppose stolen from Tia in a way, then from us. It’s complicated, but it comes down to it being mutually owned, wouldn’t you say?”
Tia blinked rapidly, pressed a finger on what felt like a muscle tic just under her left eye. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I do. It’s not enough.” Cleo shook her head. “Even if you pull it off, she loses a thing. A thing that wasn’t hers to begin with. It’s not fucking enough.”
“No, it’s not,” Gideon agreed. “Not any longer.”
“You want justice?” Jack lifted his glass, skimmed his gaze around the room.
“That’s right.” Gideon laid a hand on Cleo’s shoulder, then looked at his brother, at his sister, back at Jack when they nodded. “That’s what has to be.”
“Okay. Justice makes it a little trickier, but we’ll work it out.”
Nineteen
NOTHING, Malachi decided, was going to be solved during this first disorganized and impromptu meeting. They needed time to let it all settle in. Time, as Tia had said, to define their direction and their goal.
As usual the brainy and delightful Dr. Marsh had cut through to the heart of the matter. The six people currently scattered around her apartment had a variety of agendas and styles.
The outside force of Anita Gaye had only one.
To win, they would have to meld those six individuals into one single unit. That required more than cooperation. It would demand trust.
Since they had to start somewhere, Malachi decided to explore the new element.
Jack Burdett.
He wasn’t entirely sure he cared for the way the man looked at his sister. That was a bit of personal business he intended to wind through the rest as soon as possible.
In any case, Tia was looking more than a little shell-shocked. She did better, to his way of thinking, when she had some time inside her own head. So the first order of the day was to clear out the apartment and give her a bit of room
.
“We all need to chew on this for a while.” Though he didn’t raise his voice, the chatter quieted. It was something Jack noticed, and filed away.
“Fine with me.” Jack got to his feet. “Meanwhile, I’ve got something for you, Tia.”
“Something for me.”
“Consider it a hostess gift. Thanks for the Chinese.” He dug into his bag and came out with a phone. “It’s secure,” he told her. “And so will the line be, once I hook it up. You can use this line to make and receive calls you don’t want our eavesdropping friends to hear. I don’t imagine I have to tell you not to give the number out.”
“No. But doesn’t the phone company have to . . . Never mind.”
He flashed a grin at her. “Where do you want it?”
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her fingers between her eyebrows, tried to think. Her office was out as long as Cleo needed it for a bedroom. Her own bedroom seemed wrong, somehow selfish. “The kitchen,” she decided.
“Good choice. I’ll take care of it. Here’s the number,” he added, taking a small card from his pocket.
“Do I memorize it, then eat the paper?”
“You’re all right, Doc.” With a chuckle he hefted the bag and headed toward the kitchen. Then stopped. “Seems like you’re a little crowded in here. I’ve got plenty of room. Rebecca’s staying at my place.”
“Do you think so?” Malachi’s voice was dangerously soft.
“Stop it,” was all Rebecca said, and she said it under her breath.
“I can take one more, if anyone wants to relocate. That evens things up.”
“I’ll go.” Cleo rolled up off the floor, careful not to look at Gideon.
But Jack looked at him, saw the start of surprise, the quick, baffled anger. “Fine. Saddle up. This won’t take me long.”
“I don’t have much.” She shot Tia a grin. “You might actually get some work done this way.”
She walked off into the office, and Malachi sent his sister a fulminating look that only made her yawn. “You think I’m letting you take up with a man this way?”