It Takes a Thief--A Heist Romance

by Sloane Steele

  * * *

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  Look for Between Two Thieves, the next installment in the Counterfeit Capers series, coming from Sloane Steele and Carina Press in June 2021.

  To find out about other books by Sloane Steele or to be alerted to new releases, sign up for her newsletter at https://www.subscribepage.com/sloanesteele

  Acknowledgments

  The idea for this series has been nothing more than a scribbled note in a book for years because I really wanted to write it, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to pull it off. Thanks to my pals from the Sunday night Panera supper club, I decided to go for it. And it has been a blast. My writer friends were there to brainstorm and offer advice and read early drafts and poke and prod me to get it done. These books wouldn’t exist without their encouragement.

  And thank you to my editor, Deb Nemeth, who fell in love with my crew of criminals who take a stab at being heroes. I’m so happy Carina was willing to take a chance on this slightly unconventional series.

  About the Author

  Sloane Steele is the pen name for Shannyn Schroeder. Shannyn is a part-time English teacher, part-time curriculum editor, and full-time mom, even though her kids are pretty self-sufficient teens. In her downtime, she bakes cookies, reads romance, and watches far too much TV.

  If you want to connect with Sloane (and Shannyn):

  www.SloaneSteele.com.

  Sign up for her newsletter here: https://www.subscribepage.com/sloanesteele.

  https://twitter.com/SSchroeder_

  https://www.facebook.com/shannyn.schroeder/

  More Than This

  (O’Learys 1)

  A sexy bartender stirs up a daily lesson plan for an adventurous teacher...

  When she discovers her ex-husband is about to be a father, Quinn Adams is on a mission. Determined to get pregnant without the commitment of a man, Quinn sets out for her own adventure. But everyone seems to think she needs to focus on herself first. With a list of challenges compiled by her sister and their friend, Quinn embarks on some life-altering fun.

  Her first challenge is to go on five dates within two weeks. After a few disastrous attempts, Quinn’s ready to give up—until sexy bartender Ryan O’Leary offers his assistance. Ryan is the go-to person for everyone in his large family, so it’s natural for him to want to help Quinn. However, as they get to know each other better, friendship with Quinn isn’t enough for him. Now, it’s time for him to show her how serious the Irish can be. Will the bartender quench Quinn’s thirst by mixing up more than she ever imagined?

  Copyright © 2018 by Shannyn Schroeder

  Coming soon from Carina Press

  and Sloane Steele

  Between Two Thieves

  Two thieves. Ex-lovers. Both after the same painting. Will love get in the way of loyalty?

  Read on for a sneak preview of Between Two Thieves, the next book in Sloane Steele’s Counterfeit Capers series.

  Chapter One

  Nikki skulked in the shadow of yet another rich douchebag’s house in a posh north Chicago suburb. “Cameras down yet?” she whispered into her comm.

  In her ear, Audrey said, “Gimme a sec. There’s a glitch.”

  “What the fuck? I thought we had all the glitches worked out.” She leaned against a tree and waited for Audrey to do her tech magic.

  “You’re a go,” Audrey said.

  “Wait,” a whisper came across the comms.

  “What is it, Mia?”

  “I don’t see Bethany Rivers. She was here, but now she’s not.”

  “So?”

  “She may already be on her way home.”

  Nikki scoffed. “The party is a good thirty minutes away. By the time she gets here, I’ll be long gone.”

  “I don’t know when she left,” Mia said sharply.

  Nikki rolled her eyes even though no one was there to see it. She did some quick calculations for how long she actually needed to be in the house. Unless the woman pulled up right now, Nikki would have plenty of time. She’d been in much worse situations than this. And she’d done it alone. “It’s fine. Audrey, keep a lookout once I’m in.”

  Nikki had no idea what bug crawled up Mia’s ass. She had picked the date for the heist based on when the happy couple would be out of the house at a social function where both Mia and Jared could keep an eye on them. Nikki snickered as she picked the lock on the back door. Perfect Mia had screwed up the one job she had.

  As soon as the door swung open, the alarm began its repetitive beep. Inside the kitchen, she hooked up the special decoder Audrey had given her and it began cycling through numbers as the beeping continued. “You sure this thing will be fast enough?”

  “Yeah, it’s an old-school model—”

  The beeping stopped.

  “Damn. Sometimes I forget how good a hacker you are.” Nikki tucked the scanner back in her bag, reassembled the faceplate of the alarm keypad, then made her way to the living room. The small sculpture was sitting on an antique table in the corner, just as Mia had described.

  “I put the cameras back on while you’re in there so I have eyes outside,” Audrey said.

  Nikki got close and flashed her light on the sculpture. It wasn’t hideous, like some of the pieces she’d stolen for Mia and Jared. It was an intricate bending of metal of two Celtic knots. Pretty enough. But what made it valuable was the material used. It was copper dipped in gold. Actual, real, 24-karat gold, in multiple layers. It was said to have a solid half inch of gold, but since gold tended to be a soft metal, the damn thing was fragile.

  Nikki unpacked the box carrying a forged replica and set it on the antique table. She had no idea what materials London had used to make the counterfeit sculpture, but it certainly wasn’t real gold. Then she picked up the original and nestled it in the prefabbed box.

  “Better get out. A car is pulling into the drive,” Audrey said in her ear.

  “I guess Mia was right. I didn’t have a half hour.” She switched off her penlight and shoved the box back into her bag.

  “The car is dropping her off out front, so you should head to the back. I’m cutting the cameras again so you’re not seen.”

  “Fuck. I have to walk past the front door to get back to the kitchen.” Her heart picked up its pace. Nikki closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In her mind, she pictured the layout she’d studied for the past week. The closet was her best bet. She edged around the room and snuck into the coat closet at the end of the hall.

  “Where are you?” Audrey asked as the front door opened.

  Light peeked in from under the closet door. Nikki squatted down and waited to see if Mrs. Rivers needed to stow a wrap or shawl. If she curled into a tight ball, she’d blend in with the shadows. Touching her forehead to her knees, she regretted the chili dog she’d eaten on the way here.

  Taking slow, shallow breaths, she considered her breakout plan if Mrs. Rivers did catch her. Nikki had seen pictures of the woman. She wasn’t all that big. If Nikki rushed at her and knocked her over, she’d get out. Of course, the police would be called, but they wouldn’t find anything missing. As far as contingencies went, it wasn’t bad.

  “The stupid alarm isn’t set again. Men,” the woman muttered on the other side of the door. Two clicks of her heels and Nikki heard her tapping on her phone.

  Move it along, lady.

  Mrs. Rivers set keys on the table near the closet. Nikki held her breath. Then heels clicked down the hall.

  Nikki cracked open the door and watched Mrs. Rivers climb the stairs to the bedrooms. Once she turned the corner, Nikki released her breath in a slow stream, then slipped from the closet a
nd out the front door.

  “I’m out,” she said, a little more breathlessly than she liked. Maybe it was time to add swimming to her conditioning if holding her breath for a couple minutes was too much. “Give me thirty seconds to clear the cameras and then you can put them back on.”

  She sped through the trees and out to the quiet street. “All clear.”

  “Cutting it a little close, weren’t you?” Audrey admonished.

  Surprisingly, Mia hadn’t said anything the entire time Nikki had been making the switch. She tightened the straps on her bag and removed her cap and gloves. Then she jogged to the next block, where London was waiting in the team’s van.

  London appeared unbothered by the entire scenario as she bopped along to the music on the radio. Her long light brown hair swayed as she danced to the beat in her seat.

  “No such thing as too close, unless you get caught, which I didn’t,” Nikki said to Audrey as she climbed into the van.

  London turned off the radio and pulled away from the curb. “How was my counterfeit?”

  “Damn near perfect as always,” Nikki responded.

  “Hell, yeah, it was.”

  “If you were so sure, why ask?”

  “Everyone needs their ego pumped on occasion.”

  “The champagne is chilled and ready when you get here,” Audrey chimed in.

  “I think we should go out to celebrate. I’m in a party mood.”

  “I’m in,” London said.

  “I’m out,” Audrey added. “I have a date. My boyfriend promised to take me home and ravage me. That beats getting drunk with you. Sorry. Not.”

  “Fine. Whatever. London and I will have our own fun. Party pooper.” In all honesty, Nikki couldn’t fault her. Getting laid was almost always better than getting drunk. Getting laid sounded like a good idea.

  And she wouldn’t begrudge her friend the happiness she’d found with Jared, who was technically one of their bosses. He and his cousin Mia had assembled a team to avenge the crimes of their fathers and make reparations to the victims. At this point they were more than a team of coworkers. They’d become friends. It had been so long since Nikki considered anyone a true friend, the feeling was weird. Good, but weird.

  They went back to the River North apartment that acted as their headquarters. While everyone except her had their own personal residences, they met and planned here. Nikki also pretty much lived here as part of her agreement with Jared to stay out of trouble.

  The women shared a quick drink of champagne, a ritual Nikki had been doing for many years—a ritual she used to do alone. Then she got ready for a night out. While she normally leaned toward dive bars, London insisted on going to a club, which meant dressing up and wearing heels, which London was already doing. The artist never dressed like a thief.

  “Oooh, look at you!” London squealed. Reaching out to touch Nikki’s hair, she added, “You should leave it down more often.”

  “It gets in the way if I leave it down.” In truth, she only kept it down when she was running a con. Men preferred their women to be soft and harmless. She could look the part when she wanted to.

  “Pretty easy job tonight,” London said as they climbed into her car.

  “Yeah.” Except she was on edge. It wasn’t good or bad, just restless. Which led to recklessness. She reached over to the radio and turned the volume up, pumping the beat through the car, and dancing in her seat.

  Once off the highway, both she and London rolled down their windows and sang. London had a parking spot reserved in a nearby lot and they walked to the nightclub. London wore a white gauzy dress, more suited for the beach than a downtown nightclub. Nikki preferred her jeans—easier to run in if needed.

  People were lined up down the block to get in. Nikki groaned. “I know you want to dance, but how about we go to my kind of bar and I’ll pay for the jukebox all night?”

  London tugged her arm. “Trust me.” She led them around the corner to the back door, where there was another doorman, but no line. “When you go out enough, you learn some tricks.”

  At the door, London smiled.

  “Just the two of you?” the doorman asked.

  “Sure thing,” London answered, handing him a twenty.

  Without another question, he opened the door and let them in.

  “I should travel with you more often,” Nikki said.

  “I think if you wanted to get in on your own, you wouldn’t have any problem.”

  They walked down a dark hallway and turned a corner, which put them near the bathrooms. The music was thumping here and Nikki felt the press of a crowd, one big enough that she could get gloriously lost in.

  On the main floor, she looked around. An upper level showed people leaning on the railing watching everyone on the dance floor.

  “Dance or drink first?” London yelled.

  Nikki snorted. “Drink, of course.”

  London took her hand and pulled her away from the bar. Did the woman not understand? A moment later, they stood in front of a slot machine that dispensed shots. Of alcohol.

  “A shot machine? Where has this been my whole life? I need one in the living room.” Nikki ran a hand lovingly across the top.

  She slammed two shots and then let London pull her to the dance floor. She didn’t know what London’s goal for the night was, but Nikki was looking for a guy. Most any guy would do. It didn’t take long before a couple men joined them. The press of bodies and the thumping beat let Nikki relax.

  Her brain emptied of all thought. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the man. His hands gripped her hips as she wrapped her arms behind her around his neck. Hips grinding, back to chest, they swayed to the rhythm. Two songs later, Nikki turned in his arms.

  “How ’bout a drink?”

  “Sounds good,” he said close to her ear, his deep voice sending a thrill through her.

  Man, she loved a guy with a deep voice. His face was pleasant enough—dark brown eyes and full lips, a nose that held hints of being broken—but nothing overly remarkable. Which made him perfect. Easily used and forgotten.

  She pulled him back through the crowd, paused at the shot machine, bought a couple, and then continued on to the back hall where she’d come in.

  “Where are we going, baby?”

  Nikki swallowed the shot in her hand and pressed him against the wall. She kissed him hard. “Are you up for some fun?”

  He glanced around the hallway, toward the back door. “Here?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  “The back door’s right there.”

  “So?”

  “What if someone comes in?”

  “Do you care?”

  He looked in her eyes. “I guess not. I’m Tony by the way.”

  “No names.” Nikki liked the added benefit of the possibility of getting caught. In the back of her mind, she briefly wondered if this counted as staying out of trouble, as she’d promised Mia and Jared. Then she realized she didn’t much care.

  * * *

  Wade Palmer stared at Dodger, the gray hair wild on his head, blood staining his white button-down shirt, face swollen. Fucking silly old man. When will he learn?

  “Watch it.”

  The raspy voice snapped Wade’s attention and he refocused on wrapping the man’s bloodied hand. Shit. Did I say that out loud?

  “It’s written on your face. The look of disgust, like you think you’re better’n me. Don’t forget who pulled you off the streets and taught you a skill.” Dodger pointed at him with his good hand before settling it back on the faded paisley print of the armchair that was older than Wade.

  Wade hadn’t forgotten, which was why he was here in Dodger’s crappy South Side apartment in the middle of the night as soon as Dodger had called. Even though he’d sworn he was done. He wasn’t going to kee
p coming back to rescue the old man from his own self-destructive behavior.

  “A skill you threw away instead of honing. What a waste.”

  Wade didn’t respond to Dodger’s poking as he moved to clean a cut over Dodger’s left eye. Dodger would never understand why he’d done his best to leave the life of crime behind him. He had been a good con man. Dodger had, in fact, taught him quite a bit. It had been Nikki, though, who’d made him the man he was. And if he couldn’t be with Nikki, he had no desire to be a thief.

  “Are you going to explain what all this was about?” Wade applied peroxide to the cut.

  Dodger hissed. “Your bedside manner sucks.”

  “I’m not here to make you feel good, just keep you alive. Who did this?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Really? So this settles the score, then? I can leave tonight and not worry about this happening again?” Wade knew better.

  “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  Wade pressed the bandage to the cut, using a little more force than necessary. “Oh yeah, this looks like you’re doing a great job of taking care of yourself.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Look, Dodger. You know you’re going to tell me sooner or later. Why not cut the crap and tell me now so we can figure out a plan? How much do you owe?”

  “A lot.”

  Again, not surprising. Dodger had always been a gambler, ever since Wade had met him and Nikki when he was eighteen, fresh out of the foster care system with few skills and fewer prospects. Back then, Dodger had bet on horses and baseball games. But they’d brought in plenty, so his habits hadn’t taken much of a toll on them. Gambling had always been Dodger’s vice, but to a young Wade, it didn’t seem like a big deal. They always had a place to live and food to eat, which was better than where he’d come from.

  But Nikki had known. She’d seen the writing on the wall long before Wade had.

  Thirteen years later, and Dodger would bet on anything. It didn’t matter if he had money to back the bet or not. Everything was a sure thing. It had only gotten worse since Nikki left. Every sporting event was a chance to gamble. If a bookie wouldn’t take a bet, he’d create his own with a random stranger on the street. He’d wager on how many times a dog would stop to piss on a walk or how many people would cram into one train car on the El during rush hour.