Nights with a Thief
Page 8
“But David was obnoxious and rude and a huge snob even then. She tried to teach him better manners, to help him fit in, but no matter how she tried, she never could get him to throttle back on the attitude. She lost patience and probably would have disconnected from him completely by the time he was sixteen, but by then, he’d seen her rubies.”
“So he was obsessed with her rubies that long ago.”
“Remember, I said he had ambition. He was already building his own fortune. He worked at one of his father’s businesses and invested every paycheck and every gift in the stock market. He bragged to everyone that he was going to buy Aunt Gloria’s rubies. They would be the highlight of the incredible life he had planned for himself. He was so fixated that he was never going to be satisfied until he got them. There was just one problem.”
“Aunt Gloria has no intention of ever selling them.”
“Exactly.” He gave her a sidelong look. “Want to know what my obsession was at sixteen?”
“Pretty girls, tiny bikinis and sunny beaches.”
“You could’ve stopped after ‘girls.’ I didn’t care where I found them. I was just glad I did.” He paused. “What was yours?”
“Mastering the Moline 1059 alarm system.”
The unexpected answer made him laugh and earned a chuckle from her, too. “They’d already moved on to the 1079 by the time I came in contact with one. And I pretty much cheated. The wife of the guy I was stealing from gave me the code.”
“I guess the honeymoon was over.”
“Over, dead, buried and forgotten. He wasn’t playing nice in the divorce so she helped herself—or I did—to a few baubles to make up for it.”
“Mom—” She hesitated before starting again. “We’ve been approached a few times about helping to ensure a fair division of property, but that’s never been our interest.”
He’d let his discovery that Lisette was Bella’s daughter slide by earlier. He’d admired Bella’s work and respected the legend for years, so he really wanted to know more about it, but not tonight. Lisette needed to get used to the fact that someone besides her and Padma knew her mother’s secret, and he...
He was having a good time talking about his job. There were so few people he could discuss it with if he wanted fate to stay on his side. “So you and Padma are strictly retrieval specialists.”
“Except for the red diamonds that cover our expenses. No reason we or our clients should have to pay to make right someone else’s crime.”
“I agree. Especially when the someone else is David.” Jack closed his eyes and found it too easy to imagine Lisette dressed for comfort of movement and camouflage, her long curls stuffed under a hat, pack loaded with the tools of her trade. It was much harder to imagine her slogging through sewers. She was so pretty and elegant and girly. How could she have taken that first step when she’d known the alternative was mere moments of sliding down a line?
At least she’d persevered. She hadn’t backed out and left her clients hanging. She’d done the job no matter how messy it had been. “How are you with safes?”
“I manage them if I have to. I got a diamond core drill and a fiber-optic scope for Christmas a few years ago. Most of our jobs, though, safes don’t get in the way. There’s a thing about black-market buyers—they’re proud of their purchases. They want them nearby or on display so they can enjoy the newness. We’ve only had to crack a safe maybe four times. Padma hacks way more computers.”
Off to the left, the back door creaked open a few inches. “Hey, Lisette, we’re done strategizing for tonight. I’ve got to get to bed so I can knock those guys out of the sky tomorrow. You can bring Jack in now if you want.”
“We’re comfortable here, but thanks. Good night.”
Padma snorted before she closed the door, at the thought, Jack assumed, that Lisette could be comfortable in the cold.
Lisette sighed softly. “I hope their strategy doesn’t involve signal-jamming or laser-guided weapons on their copter.”
“She takes her games seriously, huh?”
“You have no idea. She’s the most competitive person I’ve ever known.” After another sigh, she went on. “I guess I should go to bed, too, if you’re still planning to risk my life tomorrow.”
Damn, he didn’t need that image in his head: the wool coat sliding off her arms and landing in a pile on the floor; the minuscule whatever she wore underneath it; turning down the covers of a warm, cozy, snuggly bed with room enough for two; soft lights, sweet scents and a beautiful woman. Aw, jeez.
He forced himself to focus on the more hopeful part of her statement. “Little risk, lot of fun. I promise. We’ll just give it a try. If you really can’t do it, I’ll concede.”
Her gaze narrowed, lines crinkling her forehead, as she stood up. He didn’t catch even a glimpse of her long legs, though, before she hugged the coat tight and headed to the door. “I’ll be at Pecos Pete’s at nine.”
Grinning, Jack stepped off the porch and started through the shadows to the far corner of the backyard. A step up and a leap landed him in the neighbor’s backyard, shadowy to hide him to the next street. All in all, it had been a productive conversation. He knew now that his initial assumption about Lisette had been both right and wrong. She wasn’t Bella, but she was. She was protective of her mother. She trusted him enough to discuss work with him.
And Padma wasn’t the only competitive person living in that house.
Chapter 5
Saturday was a beautiful morning, warm enough for shorts, cool enough for a hoodie. The sky was a clear blue, the only clouds thin wisps on the horizon, perfect weather for something benign like watching Padma’s quadcopter games. Lisette hoped her friend got through the day without causing physical damage to the opposing team or their fliers.
And that she got through the day herself without any damage.
She shut off the engine and reached for the nearest coffee cup nestled in the console. Pulling off the lid, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply of the steam rising into the air with promises of rejuvenation, mood alteration and sleepy brain cells jolted back to full function.
The coffee was brutally hot, the brew strong, and once she added sugar and cream, it would be elevated to drink of the gods. Returning the cup to the holder, she began her ritual: cream, sugar, a moment of stirring—
A horn beeped nearby, stopping her midstir. Her gaze went to the rearview mirror first, then she looked to the left, where a monster-sized pickup had parked a few spaces away. Jack came around the truck to her side, key fob in hand, grin on face. He looked far too cheerful for a man who’d taken a late-night run in the cold. After she’d gone to bed, she’d tossed all night, and it showed in shadows under her eyes and in the brain fog that muddled her.
She opened the door, then went back to stirring her coffee. He ambled over, rested one hand on the roof of the car and bent to see inside. “Did I interrupt your morning salutation to the high holy coffee beans?”
“Yes.” She handed the other cup to him. “Sugar? Cream?”
“Nope.”
“You clearly don’t know how to do this salutation properly.”
“You do it your way. I’ll do it mine.” He popped off the lid, sniffed, then took a careful sip. Miraculously the coffee didn’t scald his tongue. “I don’t drink other people’s coffee very often. This is pretty good.”
She waved him back, then climbed from the car and leaned against it. “Other people’s?”
“The family owns a coffee plantation in Brazil. They ship it everywhere we go. If you want, I’ll have them send you some beans.” Balancing the coffee, he took out his cell, typed a few lines one-handed, then grinned. “Done.”
He shifted to lean beside her, looking like the high holiness of gorgeous men in the morning light. Damn, last night’s in-the-dark visit
had robbed her of an incredible sight. His hair was the perfect shade of blond, the perfect example of tousled. His skin was perfectly gold, and his smile was perfectly white, his eyes perfectly blue. If he had a physical flaw, she couldn’t find it.
Which was fair enough, since she could recite his character flaws without even thinking. Superconfident, arrogant, stubborn, impossible to discourage, sexy and, most unexpected of all, nice.
What has life come to when being nice is a flaw?
“I brought some of Dr. Mom’s pastries,” she said. Retrieving the plastic container, she lifted the lid, setting spicy, sweet, buttery aromas adrift into the air. “Nariyal burfi, puran poli and besan halwa. They’re incredible...but I didn’t think to ask if you like Indian food.”
Jack leaned close, and his scent distracted her: perfectly clean, fresh, intriguing. Eau de Rich Guy. It could compete with Dr. Mom’s baking even on an early Saturday morning. That wasn’t a good sign for Lisette. Coffee and Dr. Mom’s pastries had long been the most important scents of her Saturdays.
“I’ll eat anything,” he replied, helping himself to a sweet bread. “Except for the time in Korea, where they served me a live baby octopus. The poor guy kept trying to save himself by wrapping his tentacles around my fingers and nose and mouth. They laughed at me when I went outside and released him into the sea.”
Shuddering, Lisette took her own sweet bread. “I may never eat tako again.”
“You like sushi? I know the best place.”
“In Denver?” she asked, pretty sure the answer was no. She’d figured out before they even met that she and Jack didn’t live in the same universe. She worked for a living and considered it a good month when she added to her savings account instead of depleting it, and he jetted around the world on a whim. Meal and shopping options were limited to her finances and her local area. His weren’t limited by anything.
“Tokyo. It’s the best sushi in the world. We should go sometime.”
She considered how totally decadent it would be to fly via private jet to Tokyo, eat sushi prepared by a master, then fly home again. The idea of such a once-in-a-lifetime splurge appealed to her almost as much as it appalled her.
“The heights are awaiting us. Let’s get going.” Jack gave her a sly look as he claimed the box of sweets. “I’ll carry these.”
She got her purse and gear bag, then stepped up into the truck’s passenger seat. Turning, she tossed both into the backseat. This time she would look for trackers when she got home.
He kept his attention on the road ahead and the snacks on the console at his side until they were clear of the city and steadily climbing into the mountains. Lisette didn’t ask where they were going. Thinking about it would just twist the knots in her stomach a little tighter.
“Is Dr. Mom Padma’s mother?”
“Yeah, she is. She was Mom’s best friend. They and Dr. Dad pretty much raised us.”
“Where was your dad?”
There was a flood of grief, an ache around her heart, made more acute by the loss of her mother. The sad truth was that talking about her father generally wasn’t a difficult topic. She’d never known him. Never seen his smile or heard his voice singing horribly off-tune ballads to her mother. Never laughed at his jokes or argued with his opinions or even given any thought to what kind of father he would have been. What was the point of imagining someone who could never be in her life?
Sometimes, that pointlessness made her sad. “He died before I was born.”
Jack’s somber gaze flickered to her, then away. “I’m sorry. That’s tough.”
“Hmm.” But tougher for Marley than for Lisette. Marley had lost a living, breathing person. Lisette hadn’t lost anything but possibilities.
But, oh, what possibilities.
* * *
It got quiet in the pickup after Jack’s question about Lisette’s father. Clearly, she didn’t want to talk about him, and Jack should have suspected that by the fact that he didn’t appear to have played any role in her life. When she talked about family, it was her mother, Padma and the Doctors Khatri. But he hadn’t thought before he’d spoken, resulting in a few degrees of discomfort inside the cab.
Relieved when a sign appeared for his exit, he glanced to the right before switching into that lane. Most cars on the interstate drove at a fast clip as if speed limits were merely suggestions, not laws. The exceptions on this stretch of road were him, a beat-up sedan that didn’t appear capable of going any faster and a dark SUV a short distance back.
“Which park are we going to?”
“It’s not a park.” He steered onto the exit ramp, then merged onto the two-lane highway. “I’ve got a friend who lives up here. He’s a climber, and the property’s got a lot of great rock formations, plus a few manmade ones.” He grinned at her. “Don’t worry. His six-year-old daughter has mastered all of them with a little help from her eight-year-old brother.”
“So it’s not enough that I might die today, but I’ll do it with the knowledge that I’ve been bested by a six-year-old. Thank you.”
Jack laughed. “It’s too bad they’re in Italy now, or Filomena Jane could be your guide.”
“Bested by a six-year-old named Filomena Jane.” Lisette shook her head woefully. “Padma’s going to love this.”
The road began a steep ascent, mountain on the right side and, on the left, twelve inches of shoulder that gave way to a car-crushing plunge. The road, along with the treacherous winter weather, was one of the reasons the Iannuccis had moved on to their home in Southern Italy. They believed mountains were for climbing, not crashing off, and winters were best spent in warm places.
As the view behind them disappeared around a curve, a dark flash caught Jack’s attention. It could have been anything—it seemed half the vehicles on the roads around Denver were black—and it probably meant nothing. Still, he kept his gaze alternately on the roadway ahead and in the rearview mirror.
“I have to say, you having friends with children surprises me.”
He slowed his speed a few miles per hour, then spared a second to grin her way. “Why is that?”
“We-ell...”
“You’re cute when you’re trying not to offend me.”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “You’re not married. You spend a lot of time going a lot of places and doing...well, nothing. You look good for the cameras, you party a lot. Parents generally are a little more...”
“Settled?”
After a moment, she said, “Yeah, sure. Settled will do. Responsible. Not so much into taking risks.”
“To be fair, a lot of what I do is for my job. Like you going to David’s party for your job—both of them.” He checked the rearview mirror again and saw nothing. His hands relaxed on the wheel. “I wouldn’t stop being friends with someone I liked just because they lived differently. Besides, marriage and kids are just a part of life I haven’t gotten to yet.”
“Do you intend to?”
“Sure. Don’t yo—” Damn. Coming around the last curve was a dark gray SUV, definitely the one from the highway, similar to the one parked outside his hotel last night. Though he felt Lisette’s curious gaze on him, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he increased his speed back to the limit and consulted the GPS screen for options. The remaining six miles to the Iannucci house were highlighted, with nothing between here and there but a roadside convenience store.
Lisette was very still, half turned toward him, not looking anywhere but him. “Are we being followed?”
He released one hand from the steering wheel long enough to rub an ache starting in his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“The business we’re in can cause a little paranoia.”
“What’s the joke? Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.”
She made a
face. “Thank you. That makes me feel better.” She resettled in the seat, made a point of exhaling quietly and looking calm and relaxed. If he didn’t know better, he would believe the facade, but this was Lisette channeling Bella. This calm-cool-innocent act was the main reason she succeeded as a thief.
After a moment, she pleasantly said, “I don’t think David believed you when you denied being involved with the theft.”
“I know. I think I’m offended. David’s always been so eager for approval that he’s even a bit gullible.”
“Maybe he’s tired of being gullible.”
Jack smiled at her. Her own smile was sunny, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t like being under close scrutiny, and she didn’t like having dragged him into it with her. Not that she’d done any actual dragging. He’d been the one to notice her at the party, to follow her upstairs, to track her down at work the next day. Simon had always warned him that he would find himself in serious trouble someday, and it wouldn’t be the plotting and stealing and working with criminals that caused it, or the thrill-seeking or the recklessness. It would be a woman.
And Simon, blast him, was always right.
The roadside store appeared ahead: small, dusty, plastered with signs. The prices at the gas pumps were outrageous, but a line of cars waited at each one.
“It’s good for business to be the only place for miles around that sells gas, milk and beer.” Lisette’s head was turned to the right now, tipped down so she could watch the SUV in the outside mirror as they passed the store. A moment later, a small breath escaped her. “They turned off.”
Again, if he hadn’t known better, he would have missed the wealth of relief flooding from her. He felt it, too. He worked awfully hard to avoid dangerous situations when he was on the job. He knew his strengths and his weaknesses, and dealing with physical threats was definitely a weakness. Sure, he could throw a punch, and take one, but he was seriously averse to weapons of any kind. Knives were for cooking and climbing. Guns were for cops. The closest thing to a lethal weapon he’d ever used was a stun gun when a security guard had made an unscheduled patrol, and he’d apologized repeatedly before leaving the guy incapacitated on the vault floor.