Phantom Pearl

by Monica McCabe

  Adam began rearranging things on the shelf in an attempt to conceal the laptop from view. “You must be some kind of brave to go against a Yakuza enforcer,” he said to her.

  The comment caught her off guard. “I wouldn’t go that far.” She shifted a larger box to the back edge for unloading. “To be honest, I’m nervous.”

  “Good. It’s healthy to be afraid.” He was busy typing again. “Keeps you on your toes.”

  Then she was a prima ballerina because she was practically terrified. But it wouldn’t stop her from getting her hands on the Pearl. And when she did…

  Her eyes widened in sudden alarm.

  The custom case Kai had made for transport—what if they found the Pearl separate from it? She’d neglected to make provisions for alternative transport. What was the matter with her? How had she let such an important detail slide?

  She began digging through the boxes and crates, hoping to find something suitable, but everything there was bulky and hard, unsuitable for a centuries-old mammoth tusk.

  “I’m headed to the other van for a second,” she said to Adam.

  He waved her on and kept pounding the keyboard.

  She found Layla busy removing cargo support straps. Even in her cotton slacks and pullover shirt, the woman exuded sensuality. It seemed a part of her DNA, as natural to her as breathing.

  Riki doubted that level of skill was something one could learn. You had it or you didn’t. Riki didn’t.

  “Almost there,” Layla said as she pulled a strap through a D-ring on the side panel.

  “No worries, I’m looking for something.” Riki began rummaging.

  “I don’t think you’ll find it in here,” Layla replied. “He’s out there.”

  Layla’s comment left her flustered. She used to be good at hiding her emotions, until Dallas Landry came along. “No, it’s this job,” she claimed. “I’ve forgotten an important detail—a backup container in case the Pearl is separate from its case.”

  “Hmm,” Layla hummed speculatively. “Are you certain it’s the job that has you distracted? I’m thinking it’s the man.”

  Riki tossed her a frowning glance, unsure how to respond. “Dallas has been a distraction for two years. I’m practically immune.”

  “Oh, honey,” Layla said with a shake of her head. “I saw that kiss. He’s into you.”

  She paused for a moment, considering, then shook her head. “Hardly. Just because I willingly played, doesn’t mean he sees anything more than opportunity.”

  “I doubt that,” Layla said. “I’m going to tell you a secret. I’ve worked in the same field office as Dallas for well over a year. Every female there drools over him, even one or two of the guys. I’ve made advances, obvious ones, but he’s never taken me up on it. I’d started to think he was a robot until yesterday. He’s different with you.”

  Riki wasn’t sure what to say. Dallas was a lot of things, but an emotionless robot wasn’t one of them. He was smart, perceptive, sometimes funny, and over-the-top sexy. The way he held her when he kissed, the way his eyes raked her over like she was the most desirable woman alive, and the way he touched, tasted…

  “What’s going on in here?” Dallas asked.

  Riki jumped and dropped the padded satchel she’d found. “Not a thing,” she said guiltily. Honestly, she needed to get a grip. “I’m searching for a backup carrier for the Pearl. Just in case.”

  Layla had the nerve to laugh.

  She reached for the dropped satchel and sneaked a peek his way. He stood outside the door, frowning as he stared between her and Layla.

  “We should’ve thought of that,” he said.

  “An easy mistake,” she declared, even though she berated herself for missing that detail not thirty seconds ago. “Every job has one. We’re now in the clear.”

  He looked doubtful, but thankfully let it go. There wasn’t time to dwell on it anyhow. They had work to do and got busy offloading the vans.

  Hard and heavy manual labor ruled the next few minutes, but four determined bodies made fast progress. Eventually, a collection had grown on the landing and Riki and Dallas took the first run upstairs with a full cart.

  They entered the freight elevator, and with a quick salute to Layla and Adam, Dallas punched the button and the door closed.

  “You ready for this?” There was an intensity to his question.

  She lightly shook her head. “Things feel slightly off. Like something lurks in the background, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “I’d hoped that was just me.”

  From that first phone call of Kai’s to right now, nothing about this had been standard. She used to have good radar, admirable focus. Maybe Layla was right. The difference was Dallas Landry. She’d always worked against him. This time she worked with him, and the distraction it created totally shredded her common sense.

  “Know what bothers me?” she asked. “I felt this way in Cairns Airport. Turns out I’d been followed by a Shimshi warrior.”

  “This place will be crawling with those guys. If they’ve been watching you, chances are you’ll be recognized. Perhaps you should wait in the van with the professor.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She couldn’t believe he’d even suggest such lunacy. “There’s not a chance in hell I’ll hide downstairs while you handle the job.”

  “I figured, but I had to try.”

  She’d precious little to use as a disguise. In the end, she braided her hair and capped it with a company hat. Add a delivery company logo shirt and she’d blend in with the crowd, but it wouldn’t hide her from the Yakuza.

  The elevator dinged as they reached the main floor, and the doors slid open. Dallas pushed the cart out into a no-frills service lobby where laborers, florists, and catering staff flowed in and out of the double-wide entry of the exhibit hall. She scanned the faces around them, looking for Cho or his men. There were several embassy security patrols and at least three exhibit workers who had the sharp-eyed look of police force, but Cho was nowhere to be seen.

  For now, she and Dallas were ignored as they rolled the cart through the noisy mayhem of construction. When they crossed into the exhibit hall, the clamor intensified. Hammering, battery-powered drills, people talking and shouting orders over the din created a perfect environment to hide.

  Howe’s assigned location had prominent placement at the front of the room, and they wove their way forward, rolling over extension cords and zigzagging around work tables. Despite the disarray, Riki loved the room. It screamed industrial elegance with high ceilings painted black, sweeping drapes of ivory tulle twisted around concrete pillars, and scattered wall décor reminiscent of nineteen-forties Casablanca. Crystal chandeliers and pinpoint LEDs spotlighted displays and cast a golden glow over the monotone colors of black, ivory, and gray. It all blended perfectly to display treasure associated with World War II. The artifacts themselves were the ornamentation, not the room.

  Howe’s creation was still a work in progress, but fit right in with the theme. Two artists were busy installing a multi-layered design worthy of prominence, complete with decorative fabrics, metals, and military embellishments to accentuate the project. When Dallas wheeled the cart up to the set, the designers applauded, then attacked the crates with enthusiasm.

  Riki grinned. “Won’t be much to do here.”

  “Remind me to send a bottle of scotch to Howe for the assist,” Dallas told her.

  “Aberlour,” Howe replied from behind them. “Eighteen-year single malt is the best, but I’d settle for the sixteen.”

  “Howe,” Dallas said as he shook hands with the man. “I do believe this marks the first time I’m actually glad to see you.”

  “No need for that,” Howe replied with a nod toward Riki. “My trust of you two only goes so far. It doesn’t extend to creative set design. For that I need professionals. No
offense.”

  “None taken,” Riki replied with a relieved smile. “It’s a wise move.”

  “The rest is coming, yes?” Howe pointed to the cart.

  Dallas lifted the clipboard from a crate before one of the designers snatched the whole cart. “Layla is bringing up another round. She’ll be here shortly.”

  “Excellent. Get everything up here, and you’re free to take care of other business. But I still expect that bottle of scotch.”

  “As good as done,” Dallas replied.

  Howe turned to Riki, his expression morphing to serious. “Though I find the mystery surrounding you interesting, I don’t care about the game you play. This event is crucial to my plans. Do not make a scene. Understand?”

  She understood all right. Screw things up, and there’ll be hell to pay. “You realize once the artifact is declared missing, a scene is all but guaranteed. Can you honestly tell me you aren’t going to enjoy watching a certain someone get very angry?”

  A humorless smile crossed his lips. “Regrettable consequence, certainly. But as they say in your Hollywood—the show must go on. Do not jeopardize my clientele.”

  “Layla will be here tonight,” she told him. “She’ll smooth over the disappointment of certain exhibitors and redirect any murderous rampage that may follow.”

  “You’ve planned well,” he said with a satisfied smile. “And I hope for everyone’s sake that what you say is true. Now, I believe the object you seek is right over there behind the screens.”

  He pointed to an area halfway down the opposite wall. Two seven-foot tall Grecian pillars flanked a display hidden behind several linked privacy screens. It sat in a place of honor, a centerpiece for the event, conspicuous in its privilege and kept secret until tonight’s debut.

  They weren’t going to wait to see what was behind the magic curtain. Security or not, she was going to slip through the barrier.

  Chapter 28

  “We need a quick diversion.” Riki took a fast glance around, and her gaze landed on a precarious stack of boxes on a rollaway cart.

  She watched a teenage boy open a box, dump the contents onto a display table, then toss it onto a growing tower of doom. Perfect.

  “Ten to fifteen seconds is all we need,” Dallas said to her.

  “Who’s going in?” Riki asked. “You or me?”

  “Want to flip a coin?”

  She grinned. “I’ll go in. You go trip and fall on those boxes.”

  “You get the fun part, while I play the clumsy goof?”

  “Seems fair.” With a grin, she pulled out her phone and fake scrolled as she walked, casually aiming left of the concealed display.

  It happened quick. A shout of warning went up, then the crash of boxes and cries of dismay as the cart rammed into a display table. While everyone’s attention was diverted, Riki squeezed between a Grecian column and the privacy screen.

  Two steps in she froze and stared in awe at a stunning work of art.

  A winged dragon, fierce, colorful, and highly detailed, dominated the display. For someone who’d only arrived two days ago, Cho had created a masterpiece worthy of the Phantom Pearl. Though, in reality, it was more of a testament to Shimshi than the romantic legend surrounding the artifact. The dragon’s snarling face and fanged jaws inspired fear, while the body and tail cradled a lighted glass case, wrapping all the way around to protect the front from those who dared to venture too close.

  The only thing missing was the Pearl itself.

  She meticulously examined the dragon, circled the display case, but no luck. No hidey holes. No locked cabinets. There was little else to search, but then, with a piece as spectacular as the Pearl, there was little need for additional flair.

  Sounds of chaos began to fade and her few seconds were nearly over. It was a long shot that Cho would allow the Pearl out of his sight anyway. Knowing him, it wouldn’t be delivered until five minutes before the exhibit opened.

  She slipped out the way she came in and stuck to the wall until she reached the next exhibit. No one paid her any mind as she rejoined Dallas at Howe’s corner.

  “No Pearl,” she said. “An amazing life-sized dragon, though.” She opened photos on her phone and handed it to him. “Check that out. A real show stealer.”

  Dallas scrolled through the three photos she’d snapped. “Kind of a shame. It’s a near perfect way to launch the return of Phantom Pearl to the art world.”

  She agreed, with one caveat. “Perfect would be in the hands of the rightful owner.”

  He stilled. “That’s Cambodia.”

  “Yes, it is.” In a perfect world, Phantom Pearl would be handed to Dallas Landry. In her heart, it’s what she wanted to do. But there were complications. She didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to cause him anymore grief, but she didn’t want to turn her back on Menita either. She had an impossible choice, deliver the Pearl to the man she owed everything, or give it to the man she loved.

  He still held her phone, and it buzzed in his hand. He glanced down at the screen, then held it out for her to see.

  I’m in Singapore.

  She stared in shock. Kai had flown here? He’d never personally joined her on a mission before.

  Dallas handed her the phone. “He’s here for the Pearl.”

  Her eyes met his. Stoic resignation stared back at her, as though he expected her to turn away from him, or maybe battle him for the prize. She hated it.

  Every cell in her body begged for him to believe in her. It made no sense. She’d done nothing but give him reason to not trust her. And yet, she loved him. It was inconvenient and ill-advised, but undeniable. Even worse, she wanted to throw caution to the wind and explore what that meant.

  Except she didn’t know how to be that person. Never in her life had she been more conflicted. For the last fourteen years, she’d focused on one thing only—justice. She’d assumed Kai shared that goal, wanted it as badly as she did. But in a matter of days, everything she thought she knew had been blown to pieces.

  “Kai being here changes things,” she admitted. “He no longer trusts me to carry out the original plan.” That knowledge hurt, despite the fact he’d deceived her for years. But if the Pearl was truly the price of his freedom, he’d want to personally make certain of the acquisition.

  Dallas grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the bustle of construction to stand beside the wall, right next to a lovely faux tree full of tiny white lights.

  “This is getting complicated,” he said. “We don’t know if Menita came alone. Don’t let this distract you, Riki. Keep your focus, or you’ll get hurt.”

  Dallas Landry was the master of the unexpected. His concern over the chance she’d come to harm felt genuine, and added another layer to her growing sense of trust. It scared her, this desire to let go and believe in someone who she’d previously thought an adversary. Her mind urged caution. Her heart didn’t listen.

  “I swear on the chocolate chip cookie that I will be careful,” she said to him.

  His eyes did that twinkle thing as he grinned. That was all it took to completely distract her from work, from decisions that needed to be made.

  “What about Zion National Park?” she asked. “I always wanted to hike up Virgin River Gorge.”

  He shook his head. “That doesn’t sound naked-friendly. And we need to…talk.”

  He said talk, but she’d bet money he meant something else. At least, she hoped so. And it better involve those lips. If not, she was going to be very disappointed.

  “Talk about what?”

  “The new direction of your career, for one.”

  She liked her career. There were aspects due for a change, though. Like disappearing off Homeland Security’s watch list. That would help a job search.

  “I’m not the nine-to-five type,” she explained. “And a renegade antiquities
hunter isn’t exactly in high demand.”

  “You’d be surprised.” Dallas lowered his head and tapped the earpiece he wore. “No, it wasn’t there. We’ll need to get into Cho’s room. Can you help?”

  She hoped the professor’s snooping around didn’t set off firewall alerts. They had enough obstacles to overcome.

  Her phone buzzed again. Reika?

  She sighed in frustration. Her sense of loyalty was at war. She wanted a solution that would benefit them all, but compromise seemed impossible. No matter how many times she made up her mind, she couldn’t stick with it. Both paths demanded a heavy price.

  Acquisition in play, she texted. Will contact soon.

  She was living in two worlds. Torn between past and present, unable to go all in either way, despite knowing her indecision may prove costly in the end.

  “How long do we have?” Dallas asked Adam. Something was happening and the intimidating federal agent was back.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Layla’s on her way up,” he said quietly. “Cho is leaving his room with a body guard in tow. That’s our cue.”

  She slid her phone into the back pocket of her slacks and began mentally tracing the embassy blueprints. Cho’s suite was on the second floor of the southern wing. They were on the first floor, centrally located in the main building. She doubted Cho would leave the safety of consulate grounds. That meant he headed this way to check on his display. Time for them to move.

  “One guard outside the door,” Dallas repeated Adam’s words. “At least one inside. Maybe more, and no doubt armed.”

  Cho wouldn’t leave the Pearl’s security to one man. There’d be at least two, probably three.

  “We need to get out of here.” Dallas rested his hand at the small of her back and pushed her forward.

  She didn’t need urging and aimed for the service lobby. Along the way, she unbuttoned the delivery company shirt and ditched it on bench outside the hall doors. The remaining tailored, sleeveless, red blouse and charcoal-gray slacks now loosely resembled office attire, and she snatched a thick folder and pair of readings glasses off a crate to finish the ensemble.