Nights with a Thief

by Marilyn Pappano

  Gingerly Simon sat down again, moving as if he had new aches in old places. Jack had new aches in new places. Like his trust. His ego. His judgment.

  “Just a few,” Simon replied. “Father Beto, Maman, Eduardo, Esther.”

  Toinette was walking away before he finished speaking. That left Lisette the focus of Simon’s attention. “Lisette, Emilio will take you back to the house. He’s waiting in the lobby.”

  “Why don’t you put her in the cell back there?” Jack jerked his head to the rear of the building even as something in him recoiled at the words. The cell was at least two hundred years old, iron and stone, dirty and cold and creepy. Putting her there, leaving her there like a common criminal, would be wrong.

  She is a criminal, his wounded spirit retorted. Though there was nothing common about her.

  “She can wait at the house.”

  Jack glared at Simon. “She weaseled her way in here for the sole purpose of stealing Le Mystère. She took advantage of you and me and everyone else. The islanders have been doing their damnedest to care for her, treat her like an honored guest and keep her safe, and the only thanks she intended was to sneak off with the statue. And that doesn’t change anything for you? You’re going to let her wander around like she belongs here?”

  Simon scowled back, and his voice matched. “She’s still our guest. Please go, Lisette.”

  She took a few steps toward the door, then stopped. For a long moment, she just gazed at Jack, so collected and poised. A person would never guess that the last minutes had been so emotional. It was as if she’d turned a switch and someone else had taken over. Bella Donna. Even Jack, who’d thought he knew her damned well, couldn’t see anything but what she wanted him to see.

  Then she walked out. She didn’t reach out, didn’t speak, didn’t give any hint of what she was thinking, feeling, maybe even regretting.

  It must be nice to control one’s life like that. He didn’t have a switch. He couldn’t turn off anything. His life right now was ugly and messy and wasn’t likely to change for a long time.

  Damn Bella Donna.

  * * *

  Head up, Lisette left the building, Emilio on her heels. Even the sun couldn’t chase away her chill. She’d done it—made the stupidest move in her entire life—and she didn’t know where the words had come from. Who had taken possession of her caution and good sense?

  Lisette truly felt the fool today. She’d destroyed any chances of recovering the statue, and along with them any hope, however small, for her and Jack. How could she live in a world where he existed, outside her reach forever, and know it was all her fault? That she had single-handedly ruined both dreams?

  There was no sign of Padma on the patio. With a wan smile for her guard, Lisette went inside, slipping past the kitchen without catching Maman’s attention. She refused to even glance at the doors leading into the galleries, instead taking the stairs two at a time. In her room, she closed the door, walked to the middle, turned in a slow circle and sank to the floor with a sob.

  She felt Marley’s presence, but her mother stayed silent. All she could do was what she’d always done when Lisette needed comforting: hum softly and stroke her hair. Lisette could actually feel the gentle brush over her curls that sent goose bumps in a wild dance, until the shift of fabric against her legs made her realize the French doors were open to the breezes.

  The realization loosed her tears in a flood.

  She didn’t know how much time passed before she felt the real touch, hands on her hair, arms wrapping around her, the sudden cooling of a damp towel and wet skin against hers.

  “Sweetie, it’s okay,” Padma murmured, hugging her tightly. “Whatever’s wrong, we’ll work it out. We’ll take care of it.”

  Clinging to her, Lisette cried harder until, soggy and starving for air, she hiccuped, breathed deeply and pulled back. Padma’s damp black hair hung down her back, and a beach towel knotted at her waist covered the matching bottom of her yellow bikini. She smelled of salt and sunshine and love and home, and Lisette wanted to hold on until everything was okay.

  Which would probably be never.

  After drying her face, she told her what she’d done. How shocked Simon had been. How angry Jack had been. How she’d ruined everything. A range of expressions crossing Padma’s face, she listened until Lisette fell silent, then she sighed. “Jeez, Lizzie girl, when you blow it, you do it spectacularly, don’t you?”

  There was nothing funny about the whole situation, but a laugh choked out anyway. She could always count on Padma to not sugarcoat things.

  Patting her hand, Padma went on. “Maybe this is for the best. Have you given any thought to what it would be like to own the statue? Where you would put it, what you would do with it, how you would pay to insure it... I’ve thought about these things, and even before I saw it, I knew the sugar bowl in the dining room wasn’t gonna cut it. Maybe it’s better to just know that it’s safe and being cared for and to not have responsibility for keeping it that way.”

  Lisette sighed. “I know in my head you’re right. I can’t afford to own a priceless carving. Sure, I could loan it to a museum, and they’d have to protect it, but... I thought it was so sad that Mrs. Maier had to send Shepherdess to a museum, that she can’t just walk into the bedroom whenever she wanted and look at it and remember her husband giving it to her. What would be the point of having Le Mystère if I couldn’t see it whenever I wanted, if I couldn’t touch it or hold it?”

  Padma went into the bathroom to trade her wet towel for dry ones, then returned to sit next to Lisette. As she pressed the water from her hair, she slowly said, “I know your mom meant well, but... It wasn’t fair to put this on you. You didn’t choose to become a thief, she did. I did. But you didn’t. And you didn’t choose to fixate your entire life on recovering the statue—she did.” She lifted her gaze upward. “Aunt Marley, I love you dearly. Please don’t forget that. I just think Lisette should have had a choice.”

  It had never occurred to Lisette that she should have had a choice. Stealing to recover someone else’s treasure was one thing; her responsibility ended when she returned the item to them. Stealing the statue—her father’s treasure, Simon’s, the island’s, anyone’s but hers—when she didn’t even want it...

  Maybe that was what this journey was all about. Realizing her truth. All she had to do was be happy and safe and live her life to the fullest.

  An unexpected smile tugged at the corner of Lisette’s mouth. “I actually do like the retrieval business. We help people when no one else does. That makes me feel good.”

  There was a rustle of air—physical, metaphysical, Lisette had no clue—but Padma shrieked and jumped to her feet. Her gaze darted side to side, searching for something that couldn’t be seen but was real even so. She touched her hand lightly to her face, then stared at her fingertips as if something might have appeared there. “Lisette,” she whispered, reaching blindly for her. “I felt her. I heard her. She called me Padma-cakes. She touched me. She said she loves me. She...”

  With the same awe she’d shown the diamond statue, Padma whispered, “Wow.”

  At least there was one part of Lisette’s life that still earned a heartfelt wow. She hoped it would be enough. But judging by the devil’s hold on her heart, she didn’t think it was likely.

  * * *

  The last of the employees Simon had summoned left, leaving Jack alone in the office with a raging headache caused by disgust, shame, Lisette’s lies—and truth. As Simon walked to the main exit with Father Beto, Jack paced out of the room, made a sharp left at the corridor and headed for the rear door.

  Simon called his name, but Jack kept walking. He needed physical exertion before all the emotions building inside exploded and left nothing but pitiful little sorrows behind.

  His steps increasing to a run, he kicked off his
flip-flops and crossed the grass onto the nearest trail. Ignoring the pricks and pinches on his feet, he took a path that grew smaller, weaving through trees. It was an anchoring tendril on the spiderweb of the island’s network, crossed again and again by other tendrils but staying its northern course. The elevation climbed steadily, bisecting heavily wooded areas and a few old ruins from ancient outposts.

  His lungs were struggling for air, and sweat drenched him when he finally reached the divide that slashed from east coast to west. Foliage on the north side grew so thick that, even though only thirty feet separated the crowns of the gorge, the only thing visible on the other side was the first screen of trees, bushes and rocks.

  Gasping, he sank onto a boulder at the cliff’s edge. The employees Simon had questioned had told the same story. Eduardo’s mother had heard rumors about the Blue family’s shiny girl from her own grandmother. Maman’s great-great-aunt had written of the close bond between an early Blue and a Toussaint in her diary. That same Blue had died mysteriously, his family put out of their home, everything they’d owned broken and destroyed. The fear fueled by it was still felt: Esther’s family continued to hide their valuables to this day.

  The big question had been put to Father Beto: What happened the night Levi and Marley died?

  They were trying to escape, the priest said. They’d wanted to be free more than anything, and when Marley realized she was pregnant, the decision had been made.

  Escape? he and Simon had echoed. Escape what? Escape to where?

  Freedom. Like everyone else in the village—Father Beto had been the exception—the Blues had lived on the island, worked, worshipped, celebrated...and were prisoner there. Simon Senior, in the tradition of the Toussaints before him, ruled with an iron fist. Their salaries went into accounts he controlled; they were overcharged for clothing, food, medical care, spiritual care. Setting up a new life required money, and Senior made damn sure they didn’t have any.

  Jack drew up his knees and rested his forehead on them. He and Simon weren’t descended from just pirates but from kidnappers, slavers, tyrants and killers.

  This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  And then it did.

  He heard the footsteps long before they reached him, but he didn’t react, sure only Simon would follow him here. He stopped behind Jack, tossed something to the ground—flip-flops—then quietly spoke. In Lisette’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

  Jack scrambled around so quickly that one foot slipped from the rock and he scraped his knee. “What the hell—!”

  “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m sorry I startled you. I should have said something sooner. I’m sorry—” An exquisitely sorrowful look came across her face. “I’m sorry for everything.”

  Yeah, losing her only chance to steal the statue could certainly make her regretful. It was good to know that it, at least, meant something real to her.

  He stared at her. She stood as tall as ever, as beautiful, the sun gilding her left side warm, rich gold. But there was a roundedness to her shoulders, and her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. “Did you decide you couldn’t do it?” he asked, sitting again, staring across the gorge. “Is that why you confessed to Simon?”

  “Couldn’t—You mean, steal the statue?” The surprise in her voice seemed genuine, but so had everything else about her. “Of course I could do it.”

  “Right. So it’s just coincidence that you saw the galleries, the security, and suddenly felt compelled to appeal to Simon’s honor instead.”

  She took a few steps to come even with him, making him wonder how he’d mistaken her light, delicate steps for Simon’s.

  “I can break the system.” Gracefully, she seated herself on a smaller rock to his right. She glanced toward the cliff’s edge, and discomfort flitted across her face, but she ignored it. “I don’t know why I confessed. Maybe dem spirits possessed me.”

  “You meant for me to catch you at David’s, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “To be intrigued by you.”

  “I hoped so.”

  “To manipulate me into bringing you here.”

  She gave a regretful sigh that traveled across the gorge and echoed back a dozen times. “Yes.”

  Bleakness settled over him. “Why?” The word was a croak, barely half-formed, and he couldn’t be any more specific. “Why...?”

  Slowly she turned toward him, the sun shining fully on her. Her skin glowed, her eyes glistened, and her hair formed a halo around her face. “My whole life, everything I’ve ever done, was for this—stealing back the statue, getting justice for what Simon Senior did, honoring my father’s memory. It wasn’t something I ever really thought about. It just was.”

  Jack didn’t want to hear that. He’d rather be used because of a passion so great she couldn’t help herself. He didn’t want to know that she’d broken his heart because her mother had pushed her, shaped her, trained her like a robot to do the job.

  “You could have approached Simon the way any normal person would have, with a letter, an email, a lawyer.”

  She smiled faintly. “For nearly three hundred years, my family was held prisoner here by one Toussaint after another. One Toussaint murdered one Blue for the statue, then another did the same. Neither my mother nor I had any reason to think Simon would be different.”

  A four-inch statue. Cursed, Jesula had said, and Jack believed it. He would never look at it again with wonder and awe. It would just be an ugly reminder of the lengths people would go to to get what they want, and damn whoever got hurt along the way.

  In the past, all that hurt had been on the Blues’ side. It was only fair that this time circumstances should be reversed.

  “So now you’ve lost the statue. You’ll never get it.”

  Her gaze was distant; so was her voice. “I can live with that.”

  Anger surged through him, pushing him to his feet again. “You can live with it? You manipulated me, you used me, you made me believe you cared for me! You threw away the best chance I’ve ever had to love someone, and you can live with it?” He dragged his hand through his hair, then glared at her. “Well, damn it, I can’t. I thought we had something. I thought we were something. I thought I was falling in love with you and you with me. I was planning a future with you, and you just threw it all away. You concocted your stupid plan, you betrayed me, and now you say, ‘Eh, I’ll be fine.’”

  Misery etched every line in her face, and her eyes, bright with emotion a few moments ago, were dark and mournful. “That’s not what I meant. I do care for you, Jack. I think I’m falling in love—”

  Noise erupted to the south, harsh staccato reports, a sudden long burst, a moment’s pause, then another. Birds catapulted from trees into the air, squawking, swirling northward in panicked flocks. Confusion drew Lisette’s brows together, along with fear, then as another round of gunfire echoed, she jumped to her feet and shot away from the cliff.

  “Damn it!” Jack ran after her, catching up within a hundred yards. This was surely another attack by David, who only thought he wanted Jack. If he got his hands on Lisette, if she convinced him that she stole Shepherdess—and God knew, she was damn good at convincing people—David would leave Jack and the islanders alone.

  But if he got his hands on Lisette... A shiver ran down Jack’s spine, damn her, and propelled him forward enough to grab her hand and drag her to a stop. “You can’t go back there.”

  She twisted violently, but he was stronger, even if his strength did come from fear. “Let go, Jack! I have to—Padma’s there, and Simon and Toinette and—and—”

  Gripping her other arm, he dragged her up close to him, close enough to die a little as he stared into her eyes. “They’ll be safe. The guards, Ali, the defenses—They’re safe.”

  She met his stare unflinchingly before her shoulders slumped and she
swayed on her feet. For an instant, he thought she would sag into his arms; then she caught her balance and breathed, blowing out panic, taking in control. “All right. I won’t run into the middle of it. But we have to go back.”

  Of course they did. Jack couldn’t hide in the trees while everyone else dealt with the trouble he’d brought here.

  Releasing her left arm, he started along the path, using his grip on the other to keep her at his side. He strained to hear any noises other than the gunshots and, as they grew closer to the compound, the whump-whump of helicopter blades.

  When they reached the administrative building, the scene was chaotic. Two helicopters circled overhead, first one swooping in, then the other, close enough for their passengers to fire a barrage of shots, then swooping back up out of reach of the island’s defenses. From their vantage point, he spotted fourteen, maybe sixteen, islanders, taking cover where they could, taking shots when they could. Simon was among them, and so was Toinette, smiling as she stepped away from the house to fire on one helicopter, pumping her fist triumphantly when the engine sputtered and smoke began to rise.

  Pressed tightly to the side of the building, Jack grumbled, “I should lock you in that cell.”

  Pressed tightly to his side, Lisette gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “I’d make you sorry.”

  Pain twinged deep inside, weakening his knees and his anger. Turning his gaze back to the attack, he sadly murmured, “You’ve already done that, Lizzie.”

  Chapter 13

  It seemed the assault lasted forever, but by Lisette’s calculations, it was less than fifteen minutes. There was one minor injury on the ground, a gardener hit by shrapnel when the first shots were fired, but the helicopters had suffered damage. She hoped they both crashed into the ocean.

  She and Jack hustled toward the patio where people were gathering, her gaze skimming for Padma. Her stomach knotted when she didn’t locate her, but Jack had said she was safe. Surely they’d taken her somewhere; surely they were just waiting for an official all-clear to bring her out.