Thief in the Night Pt. 02

"That's personal."

"And your point is?"

She turned away and glanced back outside at the passing bucolic splendor. "None of this, even our downtime, is personal."

"You can say that after last night? After this morning? Hell, this is all about revenge on your ex-husband, and you don't get more personal than that. A part of me wondered if the flirting was a ploy to make McCall jealous, but I know you haven't faked it." He sighed as she froze. "Yes, Kerry, Georges told me. I don't judge. I assume McCall was your mentor and marriage was an extension of that."

She was silent, but he was patient, and outwaited her.

"No, not really." She didn't know why she had even responded, but if he already knew what Georges did, there was no point in holding back. "He was friends with my mother. They'd done some work together. But she handled paintings, object d'art and the like, not jewels as much. She introduced me to him and asked for help teaching me about jewels. He didn't really start until after she died.

"Yes, we married, but I was young and very stupid. I mean, in my line of work, finding another thief I can tolerate is an event. But it only lasted two years and change before I filed for divorce."

"What happened?"

That was the point where she knew she had to stop with the truth, but she couldn't really lie. "I found out he had killed someone I loved."

Henry had enough sense not to push any further at her icy tone and turned on the radio. He had satellite radio and she thanked God he found a station playing music she recognized as Chicago sang out about an insomniatic night.

The silence was strangely comfortable. She realized it was because he wasn't pushing her for more. Too many men had over the years had and whenever a man tried to force her to open up she clammed up. Now that Henry seemed happy to let her be she didn't feel the need to be so guarded, but she just wasn't ready quite yet to tell the whole tale.

At last they pulled up to what looked to be an Inn that was aged gracefully over a couple of centuries. It was on the north end of a village whose name she couldn't pronounce with a pounded earth parking lot filled with higher-end cars.

She let him walk around and open her door, and when he took her hand to help her out the early afternoon sun glinted off the engagement ring she wore. Seeing his hand around hers and his ring along hers made her jerk her hand away, heart racing as some distant part of her she had never known wished for a moment it was real and not a façade.

Commitment phobia was almost a job requirement in her life, and even playing pretend was nearly making her hyperventilate. Strange, she had played similar ruses before and never once had a panic attack over a fake marriage. Nor ever had a silly daydream wedge into her mind.

He frowned but some god blessed her and her phone began to ring. "Could be Billy, hang on."

She recognized the number and felt ice splash her bones. "Excuse me a moment, it's important." She left Henry watching her as she crossed the lot towards the woods.

"Roger! Give me five good reasons I shouldn't be sneaking into your dingy little flat tonight to slit your throat."

"One, this line is monitored by my bosses. Two, you wouldn't make London by tonight. Three, I'm not in London. Four, you're no killer. And five, you are dying to ask me something."

"How the bloody hell do you know that?"

"My darling thief, you answered my call with a death threat. I am a detective at heart and thus in the tradition of great British detectives I conclude you found out about Mathers."

"Who is Mathers?"

"A harmless chap. Security only. He doesn't even have a firearm of any kind. I put him there not as backup for you, nor as a watchdog for you. He's there just to ensure nothing untoward happens."

"Talking in circles, Roger. You need to stop it. If you don't deliver on what you promised I will never pull this off. And I'll walk. I have the means to disappear so you'll never find me."

There was a long moment of silence, just long enough for that annoying voice in her head to ask why she had gone this route. She could have gone on the run, hidden away, but she had chosen to commit herself to catching the bad guys.

"All right, I'll pull him off."

"And any others there."

He was silent another long moment. "All right. But no double crossing. You may think there is a corner of this Earth I cannot find you, and you'd be wrong."

"Do it!" She hung up rudely, simmering. Pressing the END button on a mobile wasn't half as satisfying as slamming down an old fashioned telephone.

Damn it! She had one chance to get her own ass out of a sling, get McCall off her back, get revenge, and keep Interpol off Georges. If all went to plan McCall would be rotting in jail cursing her name, she would have a stable job and a clear conscience, and Georges would continue his life unabated.

If anyone screwed it up and McCall got away, all the promised boons in her deal went up in smoke. And she would spend the rest of her life a hunted criminal.

"Are you all right?"

She whirled and found Henry standing there, watching her with true concern.

"I am fine." She squared her shoulders and glanced past him. Sure, the sex had been good, damn good, but now more than ever she knew she couldn't afford any distractions. "Let's go in. If they don't speak English and you order, promise me no snails."

"What about-"

"And no frogs!"

***

The trip had been enjoyable, but by the time they made it back Kerry wanted to scream.

The food had been excellent, beyond good, and she really had to watch how much she ate. She had skipped a couple days at the gym and couldn't afford to pack on any weight that would throw off her carefully trained sense of balance. But by the gods, she swore when she retired she was going on a two week food binge enjoying all she had denied herself. Twinkies! Peanut butter! Deep dish pizza! All the classic American foods she had never allowed herself to try before, gods, she couldn't wait.

She'd gone over the plan in detail with him, the months of knowledge she had built up on the guest list, the basic security, the auctioneers aiding the family. She had researched everything she could and Henry was a good listener and asked damn good questions.

Then over coffee he had told her about hiring Michel, his own experience with a thief. She had been tempted for a long moment to share her own stories, but reason had won out and she had clammed up. Henry knew what had to be done, understood it, and she relented on asking him to spy on McCall and report his moves. Billy would handle it.

The afternoon had turned tense when they got back in the car. After a few minutes, Henry caught her staring at the forest in fascination, and offered to pull over. He made it clear why, and for a moment the images evoked filled her mind. She had never had sex in nature, always indoors, well, once in an alley after a job, but never in nature. With the sunlight in his hair, green all around them...he would be a pagan god, and it would be a worship like none she had ever known.

"No," she finally said.

"No? Prefer to wait?"

"No. Henry, this job is everything to me. I can't get distracted, and sex with you...it's just distraction."

He chuckled slowly. "I would call it more than that."

"No. I thank you for your help, but I believe I've paid my price."

The car swerved very slightly. "It wasn't about that."

"No?"

"No!"

"You were curious. I was curious. We satisfied our curiosity. If you think I owe you more...you can always inform Marchal you've been called away for work and your 'wife' plans to stay to bid on a few items."

He slammed on the brakes and jammed the wheel, pulling off into the gravel side of the road. Kerry felt her adrenaline spike but forced herself to remain calm. He was a man in a sulk, denied sex, and she had dealt with such before, mastering them with cool dismissal.

"I want this made clear," he said, voice steady. "I did not expect sex in exchange for anything. I wanted you, still want you, because you are a beautiful woman, sexually alluring, intelligent, and I know you are damn well attracted to me."

"I was. All right, then if the sex is no-strings, then it is simply up to us both if we choose to engage in it, and I am choosing not to."

He growled, and that surprised her. Finally she looked at him and her heart began to pound at the intense look in his eyes.

"I don't know why you want to put up roadblocks to something that can be so simple, but all right., Have it your way, Kerry. No planned sex, but I will try to change your mind, albeit gently, and I will never let it get in the way of your job. Understood?"

"Change my mind? How?"

He grinned and checked the rearview, pulling back onto the road. "The old fashioned way. Seduction. Agreed?"

"Pfft, you can try. I need a cigarette."

"Not in my car."

He smiled like a cat as she gnashed her teeth. "One more thing, sweetheart. As long as we're not having sex, best to avoid temptation, yes? You're sleeping on the couch."

"I'm the woman, you sleep on the couch!"

"It's my room and deep down I'm a feminist. So no special treatment just because you have fantastic tits."

"I hate you."

He just laughed.

Another hour elapsed in silence, and as he pulled up she sprang from the car before it came to a full stop. Kerry pulled out her cigarettes and lit one up, spitting mad. Georges had told Henry too much. Her fake husband was the kind of man who was just a flight of fancy, with no right to know so much. She had a type, and they were safe, sane and stable. Franklin McCall had been the only exception to that pattern, only because he faked both sanity and stability.

She hadn't asked for Henry to be the third man Georges had insisted she needed, and she damn well regretted that there was a mutual attraction, and more so, she regretted giving in to temptation. Damn it, he was too controlling! And there she was, torn up inside between the devil on her shoulder that thrilled to know he wanted her and the angel that cursed her for being distracted. She owed it to her mother and she had sworn to herself this day would come. Less than a week away and she was like a dog in heat.

She stalked around the lawn towards the wide terrace in back, relieved to see Billy was out alone, waiting for her.

"I saw you stalk off. Next time try to tuck and roll. Things not so good, luv?"

"I am not taking any advice from you again."

"Looked like the sex was good last I saw you."

"He's an ass."

Billy grinned. "Not like the usual pushovers you collect, is he?"

She folded her arms and drew in a puff. "You had something to tell me?"

"Der Arzt heute beenden."

She was confused for a moment. She understood the words perfectly... "the doctor quit today," but the meaning eluded her. Then it hit: the Interpol agent resembled Dr. Who, aka "The Doctor."

Ah, so Robert had complied. Relief coursed through her.

"Gut. Machen Sie sich keine Sorgen mehr. Wir sind gut zu gehen." She replied. Indeed, they were good to go, and it was best if Billy assumed Henry had arranged it. "Ich tue mein recon heute Abend. Halten Sie Danny beschäftigt. I'm going to the gym now." She ground out her cigarette and went inside.

She was moving up her recon to that night. She had all the schematics and it was a simple walk around to make sure what she was expecting and what was real meshed. She would make sure all expected escape routes were clear, look for any impediments. The deep recon would have to wait for the day after next when the lots would be open for examination by the gathering bidders.

Henry was curiously absent from their room but she was relived. Kerry quickly washed her makeup off and changed into her workout clothes. The room was neat and tidy, the maids having been through, but she was glad to see they hadn't disturbed the planted camera she had left. She quickly viewed a boring morning replaying the events of the residents, and then a long time before maids came in and quickly changed the linens, stocked the bathroom, and left. No McCall.

All she had to do now was burn off some energy and then find an excuse to tour the house that night. And, if there was a God, it would be without Henry.

"Luv, you forgot, you're not to go anywhere without me or your husband." Billy came in and glared at her. "You know that."

"Yes. Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"If you forget I'll make you sing 'My Shadow And Me' with me until you remember. Give me a minute and then we can go to the gym. I should lift some weights too. Danny's got my hips in excellent shape, I should work on my arms."

She flopped onto the couch and waited the short few minutes it took for him to change. That was one thing she begrudged men, they so rarely knew the pain of what it took for a woman to change outfits.

He emerged in loose sweatpants and a black tank-top, looking like a slick ex-con. He stopped and looked at her shoes, eyebrows raised. "I say, you actually own a pair of sensible shoes."

"Hey, Nike is a name brand."

"It's the first time I've ever seen you in anything other than heels designed to terrify. Stand up."

"Why?"

"How tall are you really?"

She stood and grabbed the towel she'd taken from the bathroom, slinging it over her shoulder. "Five feet, nine inches, maybe a little more."

He stood close and grinned. "For once I'm bloody well taller than you. I actually feel like a right proper bodyguard now. All right, luv, let's go be sexy people and work up a sweat the new old fashioned way."

She laughed. "New old fashioned way? Isn't the old fashioned way sex?"

"I think humans invented sex before the free weight system, indeed, hence why this is the new old fashioned way."

"Fair enough, but shortly after sex was invented blokes were lifting stones to be more attractive since God made Eve, Billy."

"Or Steve, in some cases."

She swatted him with the towel.

Billy dodged and laughed. "All right, we're off. And no ogling my arse!"

Comically she bent down and peered around him. "It is rather nice. Shame."

"Ha, ha. All right, going into brooding bodyguard mode."

Down at the gym there was a slick-looking man in his early thirties on the elliptical, and two women in their forties riding the stationary bikes. The women looked over Billy and made a conspicuous move pulling back, and the man gave Kerry a rather classy once-over.

It was Philippe DuValle, the reckless boy-toy who had put the Dauphine family into ruin. He had married the fifty-year old daughter when he was just twenty, and in eleven years he had gambled away half the fortune, spending the other half on women, wine, horses, and boats.

If anyone could give her a full tour of the house, it was Philippe. She smiled, feeling secure for the first time since she had entered the weight room the night before. Philippe was a man she could handle. Bookish, no, but simple, yes. In one fell swoop she'd have her basic recon finished and a sense of control back.

She approached the second elliptical machine with a smile.

***

This was some vacation, Henry thought. He was stuck playing pretend husband to a woman who had been such an enthusiastic lover in the night and the morning, and a closed book at all other times. Oh, he recognized the symptoms of commitment phobia, but he didn't like it. Normally he was the one with platitudes and excuses, clamming up when a woman wanted to know anything more than his last name.

He hadn't been at Kerry's level since Cynthia's wedding. Seeing the woman he'd carried a torch for walking down the aisle to marry another man had hurt. It had hurt him deeply, and so he'd turned to the first available woman. God help him, he didn't remember her name, but the redhead had been a friend of Cynthia's from college.

That had been his first experience with casual sex, and foolishly, he'd thought she'd understood. The sex had been furious and fast in the bathroom, and she'd made it clear she wanted a repeat. So he'd gone back to his hotel alone, gotten drunk, and when he sobered up he'd called her, feeling lonely.

It wasn't until after that second round things started to get real. She'd made noises about coming to visit him in Florida. He'd tritely replied he was waiting for Cynthia to graduate from law school and they would settle a partnership somewhere along with Jon. He made it clear she could be a guest of Cynthia's then.

The redhead had been a hell of a lot smarter than he. She'd sat down and asked him if he was still in love with Cynthia. He'd walled up and practically shoved her out the door. The same look he'd worn on that day had come into Kerry's eyes when he revealed he knew she'd been married to McCall.

Something real bad had happened between them. Whatever it was, it was twisting Kerry up inside. Luckily Henry had the time to see how happy Jon and Cynthia were together and moved on. It no longer hurt and they were his best friends.

What had it been that McCall did to hurt her? She said he'd killed someone she loved, but he suspected she was referring to the naïve young girl she might have once been.

The only thing he knew for certain was he wanted to keep seeing her after this job. She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn't her good looks, that amazing body, or even her innate sensuality that drew him. It was the way she clearly strove to be independent, the way she spoke her mind, the obvious intelligence she possessed. It was her charm, the way she inspired loyalty. She had known Billy just a few days and already they were fast friends.

He also knew she thought him disposable. She didn't ask him personal questions because she didn't want to think of him as a real person. As long as he was just some man Georges foisted on her, she was safe.

It was still early afternoon back home, so he pulled out his phone and stepped outside onto the terrace, dialing Jon.

"Hello?"

"Jon, hi. I have a favor to ask, someone I want you to investigate. Two someones, actually."

"Don't you want to know what I found out from Interpol?"

"Yes. Sorry, I forgot."

Jon chuckled. "It's a woman, isn't it?"

"How could you tell?"

"When I met Cyn I can't tell you how twisted up I got. Hell, you were there for half of it in Miami. No one on earth can destroy a man quite like a woman, but if she's a good woman, she's worth it."

"We'll see. Give me a moment, I'm walking." He continued off the terrace and walked onto the lawn, heading for the sculpted gardens. The day had turned overcast and the outdoors was abandoned in favor of the growing house party.

He made his way to the oblong fountain at the center and sat on the ledge. "All right."

"Well, what I have for you is very interesting. You never told me exactly what you're doing, but I can make a guess. There is a woman involved, a Kerry Allen?"

Henry cursed. "Damn it. Why, is Interpol after her?"

"Oh, they're not."

"What?"

Jon chuckled. "She's working for them. Cut a deal. I hope you don't mind but I had some downtime and looked into her. It's amazing they caught her. Her mother was a thief known as the Simian. Jeanette Allen died and the Simian heists ended, but just one year later similar thefts started up again with little differences. They started here, in New York, and the police went to talk to her with the FBI in tow. Kerry didn't crack, and shortly after she married a Franklin McCall who has some very interesting and odd political connections. I looked into him and my guess is blackmail, he has something on plenty of mucky-mucks.

"The new Simian moved into working in Europe and for almost two years it appears McCall kept the FBI from getting any info to Interpol. Then there was a rather nasty divorce...in absentia. McCall disappeared, completely off grid. I'm still trying to pick up his trail."