Thief in the Night Pt. 02

"He's here."

"Ahhhh, now it makes sense. Well, to continue, hermano, seems there was a bit of a fluke. Nine months ago, it appears Kerry Allen walked into an Interpol office and admitted to being the second Simian. The trick is she said she could get them a bigger fish, the Night Hawk."

"McCall."

"Makes sense. She cut a deal: she gives them McCall and her friend and yours Georges the fence walks the streets in retirement a free man until the end of his days."

"And what about her?"

"She's going to work for them. Like they say, you have to set a thief to catch a thief."

He tried to imagine Kerry in tight little skirt and needle heels sitting behind a desk, chewing on a pen as she went over records of some thief. She'd be daydreaming of being in his or her place, shivering as she imagine the thrill of the steal. Would the hunt be as satisfying? Would it arouse her as much as stealing when she caught her man? Better yet, did her new job mean she'd own handcuffs? "Interesting."

"She's playing it real close to the vest. She refuses to give any information to Interpol. Not sure why. You could likely hand McCall over tonight, the have prints on him."

"No. Jon, there is something real personal between them. I won't take away this..."

"Collar?"

"Thank you. I won't take this collar away from her."

Jon was quiet for a long moment. "You must really like her. A boy scout bending the law."

"She said McCall killed someone she loved."

"Only deaths I can find around her are her father's when she was real young, he died in an auto accident, driving drunk he hit a tree. Then her mother killed herself when she was nineteen or so."

Henry winced. Poor woman, it hadn't been an easy life. "What all did you find on her?"

"She's real interesting, got a resume that reads almost like a Bond villain, the kind you root for. Dad was Jackson Allen, born in Northern Ireland to a very well-off family, banking money. He married for love, Jeanette Allen has a title, baroness, French born, but impoverished when they didn't approve of the marriage. Jackson jilted a family-picked fiancée for her and they were cut off from his family. He was a rich playboy until he met Jeanette, no real trade, but made do consulting until his death.

"Jeanette had no real life skills aside from thieving, and I would love to know how she fell into that. Three years after Jackson's death their circumstances improved. Kerry's mother's family gave her a trust fund and allowed Jeanette to receive the interest on it for Kerry's schooling. Then when she hit eighteen she got a trust from daddy's family. Twenty-five million dollars total, American, originally, with interest over the years it's at almost forty."

"How so?"

"She never touched it, for some reason. She has money, wise investments, started young. Little seed money here and there from her thefts, and she took that and made it work. Nothing new put in since she was twenty-two. She's a completely self-made woman."

Henry smiled at that, and then it hit him. "The mother...Jeanette...how did she kill herself?"

"Slit her wrists in the bath. No note. Her daughter found her."

"Jesus."

"I know. Why?"

"I think she believes McCall killed her mother."

"Then why did she marry him?"

"Maybe she found out too late, hence the hasty divorce."

Something was wrong with what he was hearing, and what he had sensed in Kerry's words. "I wanted you to research Kerry and McCall."

"I'll email what I have on Kerry, got a lot, and I'll keep going on McCall. But Henry, are you sure?"

"About what?"

"When I met Cynthia...you know the story. She was a fugitive and I was to bring her in on a deal. Once I sat in an office reading a file on her, and looking back, I began falling in love with her before we ever met."

"So?"

"So...this Kerry woman...are you...uh, well, is she the one you told Cyn about?"

"Does it matter?"

"Look man, you're my best friend, so I say this with love, all right? Seriously, I love you man, but I know you mourned Cyn a long time. I trust you both to the ends of the earth, but still, seeing you settle down with someone would take a load off my mind. Sorry, man, it's the Latino machismo."

"Boy howdy."

"But I've seen your type. What Cyn did, she did to survive. This girl...whatever her mother did she could have waited a little over a year, taken her trust fund, and lived high on the hog. But she stole for the fun of it, and from what Michel tells me it's a worse addiction than heroin."

"So good of him to share. What exactly is your point?"

"In short, stealing is wrong, and if anyone on this planet could be Superman, it'd be you. Truth, justice, and the American way."

Henry sighed. "You know as well as I do that man died that day..." he didn't finish, but he knew Jon remembered the day Henry had killed that DEA agent named Soto. "Look, just get me what you can, and can you put Cynthia on?"

"Why?"

"She's my lawyer, and I'm thinking of killing a man."

Chapter Four

Kerry had never wanted to kill a man with her bare hands so much before. Well, maybe once or twice, she amended as she caught sight of McCall strolling with Philippe's wife in the brisk air on the veranda. Billy was off to the side having a discreet smoke, managing somehow not to look the least bit suspicious.

"Chere," Philippe began again, reaching for her.

Kerry sidestepped him and was temped to grab his tentacle and flip him onto his back. Ugh, he gave new meaning to the term octopus. As he had shown her all the public rooms of the house it had been a dark dance where he tried to grab her softer bits and she tried to stop him and resisted the urge to maim him.

"No, Philippe, my husband is about."

He worked her towards a corner, taking advantage of her distraction as she glanced out the window. "So? Let him find his own sport. Trust me, chere, once you have had a Frenchman, no other man will do."

"Bollocks," she breathed out quietly. Inspiration hit as she pushed him back. "You know, privacy is just the thing. How about you show me the room where all the auction goodies are being held? Wouldn't it be fun to...play around among all the sparklies?"

Something foreign flashed through his eyes but he seemed to buy her floozy act and took her hand. "Just through here."

They were at the center of the second floor. Above part of the ballroom there was a small private library, and a larger lounge which is where the auction items including the diamond were locked up. Kerry felt a real electric trill of excitement knowing there were two large necklaces, a brilliant earring and bracelet set in rubies, the Leopard Diamond, and several jeweled pins. There was art and sculptures and antiques as well, but it was the ice that warmed her veins best.

There were two guards on the door and one argued with Philippe in French. Kerry tried to follow tone, but all she understood was Phlippe was an idiot no one trusted, and the guard was smart.

He followed them in after unlocking the door but she was grateful. She could escape the octopus with a heavy watching over them. That insurance was worth the worry of the guard watching as she took note.

Two cameras, one followed their movements, so a third guard was somewhere else controlling it. The doors were alarmed, all the items were secured independently and the necklace and diamond she was after were behind glass, and the glass as alarmed, the pedestals they rested on as well. There would be a motion grid, she could see the set-up low on the walls, hidden tastefully by small plants.

She zeroed in on the ruby set, making a fuss and pouting it wasn't pink. The guard lost interest and Philippe grew bored. She had what she needed, of course a stroll at night would help when she could see the full security in full bloom. And it was the final night of almost certain privacy, the following day the rest of the guests would fill the house.

"Oh, my, is that the time?" Kerry asked, seeing the clock. "I am so sorry. Merci, for the tour, Philippe. I must be going, my husband expects me for tea."

"Ah, chere, promise me you will save me a dance this evening."

"Is this guy for real?" She muttered under her breath. The guard laughed, covering it with a cough. "We shall see. Thank you for a...lovely time."

Kerry made her escape, still dressed for the gym and headed there.

Well, everything she had assumed about the layout of the viewing room was as she expected. Philippe was as easy to manipulate, and McCall was as overconfident as expected. The only vector she hadn't counted on was Henry.

God, even now her body heated at the memories of their lovemaking. It was not what she had expected. From her earlier tastes she knew Henry was a man who liked to tease, but to her surprise there were no games, there was no artifice in his passion. His brand of command was simple and enveloping. He guided and cajoled, teased and enflamed.

And yet outside the bedroom he was quite simply the most overbearing, pompous ass who-

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

She was grabbed, and, shocked, Kerry realized it was McCall who held her forearms. He wheeled her from the hall of the basement into a lounge for servants and glared at two maids until they left. She stamped her foot on his, or tried, and he widened his stance just as she hoped. Her knee sailed into his balls and he dropped her hands, doubling over.

"I want you to know I have never kicked or kneed a man there before. Always thought it rather unsporting. But whenever I see you I find myself longing to bring back the Spanish Inquisition on your arse."

He gasped and forced himself to stand, squeezing his fists until they were white.

God, what had she ever seen in him? He was tall, bookish, his nose patrician, his bones aristocratic. His eyes were Irish and he certainly looked smarter than he was. But everything about him emanated evil.

"You are going to back off. I know what you're after and why. I know everything about you, always have, kiddo."

"Oh, go fuck yourself. We're here for the same reason we always come to such things. I hate you, you hate me. May the better tactician win."

"Ma'am?" Billy opened the door and slipped in. "The gym is free."

Kerry whirled to follow him out when McCall's soft voice made her pause. "Does it really matter if you're a chess master, when you don't know what game everyone is playing?"

She refused to stop but it was so uncharacteristic for him. McCall was a man of simple lies, a Faulkner villain with Hemmingway dialogue. This was more Ian Flemming. Well, perhaps that was his game, make her overthink his moves.

His game was a simple one she knew as she followed Billy into the hall. McCall planned to steal the diamond, would take the sapphire necklace, plant it on her, and call the police. In the ensuing chaos he would escape with the diamond. Simple, as always.

Billy steered her outside and offered her a cigarette which she gratefully accepted. They walked past the veranda, down the steps, onto the cool lawn. "What the hell was that?" he opened with.

"I thought you were tailing him."

"Your better half was supposed to be doing that. Where is he?"

"Beats me. I just borrowed somebody else's husband and got a glimpse of the goods that will be auctioned. Very pretty! And I have a head start on tonight's work."

"The husband or the bits of good?"

"Jewels, of course. The son-in-law of this clan is an utter ass."

"Charming. What was McCall on about with that 'chessmaster' line?"

"Fucking with my head."

He smiled and blew out some smoke rings. "Probably the only fucking a chap like that can get."

"So what have you been able to find out?"

"Not much from his delightful henchman. Other than McCall is a jerk, and I am reasonably sure we can turn Danny to our side with my magnificent cock and your gorgeous cash."

Kerry shook her head. "Fuck him all you want, but I'm not putting him on the payroll. Not only do we have enough of a circus and too many monkeys already, but I would never hire someone whose loyalty can be bought."

They stopped by where the woods began and Billy leaned against a thick tree trunk and crossed his arms. "How do you know mine can't?"

"Honor among thieves is as rare as I suspect it is among assassins. But Georges doesn't work with anyone whose word he cannot trust. He trusts you, so do I."

Billy smiled. "Nice to hear. Well, I better get back on McCall, you should go and see what's keeping Henry. I'd much rather be seducing information out of young Daniel than following that ass around."

She reached up and squeezed his arm, smiling to let him know she was biting back a sarcastic mark about him and asses. "Thank you."

"Oh, go ahead, you know you want to say it."

"No, Billy, I think only you know how much you like asses."

He slapped her shoulder and stood up straight. "It's what I do best. Well, one of the two things I do best."

"Well, everyone needs a hobby."

"You know, I understand, but if it all goes wrong, I would like to kill the Irishman for you. Come on, I haven't killed anyone in almost a year, I'm going nuts!"

She laughed knowing the statement was half laughs and half truth. "Let's try my way first. I think I may as well do a dry run tonight. It'll be harder with more guests tomorrow."

"Short notice, but I've been over the schematics. I'll figure out a way into the camera room."

"How?"

"Let me worry about that. I am an expert, after all."

She nodded. "Well, I suppose time at the gym is a distant dream now. I may as well take a nap and start dressing for dinner."

"We have four hours."

"Do you think gorgeous hair takes ten minutes? Jesus, one of my suitcases is hair product."

He quirked an eyebrow high. "So this is how the rich live?"

She shrugged as they fell into step. Conversation returned to English and the weather as they slipped back into their roles, but Kerry's mind wandered. So much was at stake, yet why couldn't she stop thinking of Henry?

Naked the man was a walking felony and he fucked like a demon. Her hands itched and places low in her body burned and melted remembering the passion, even as her head spun at his obstinacy and seethed over their argument.

Her head should be in the game, all eyes on McCall. She had recon that night, then it was all about McCall. Watching him, divining when he planned to move. If she beat him she had a cushy job and his utter defeat at hand. If she failed, she faced a lifetime in prison. She just had to hope Interpol refused to turn her over to the FBI, American prisons were the worst of the worst in many ways.

Perhaps she could cut and run if it went south, pull a job in Norway. She'd heard they had awfully nice prisons, and treated prisoners like human beings. Still, a shiver of fear passed through her as they split up and she climbed the stairs to their rooms.

Henry was gone, the rooms were empty, and the bed looked inviting. A nap would be good, and she flatly refused to fit her long frame onto the small couch. She needed to be sharp when the house was asleep, so she stripped to her naked flesh and slipped into the cool sheets. Stretching out she claimed the entire bed and fell to sleep quickly, trained to catch z's when she could like any good thief.

She woke to heat searing her. It was so hot it was almost slick but felt like heaven. She blinked and realized Henry was in the bed with her, spooning her, pushing them to the edge of the bed. He wasn't asleep, no, not hardly, and one enterprising hand was stroking between her legs, just skimming over her wet heat.

Her breasts ached, the puckered nipples slightly raw and wanting. How the hell had she slept through that teasing?

"Henry?"

He kissed her temple and held her closer. "I saw you looking so soft, and couldn't resist."

"But, Henry- oh!" She shivered as he found her clit and circled it with a rough fingertip.

"I warned you I would seduce you. I want you, Kerry, you obviously want me."

She wanted to tell him it was too dangerous, wanted to resurrect their earlier argument, but a thick finger slid inside her. He cleverly held her, rolling to his back, and she laid on top of him facing the ceiling. His thick finger began to move, his hand twisting so the heel of his thumb stroked her clit, and his other hand teased a nipple.

Kerry could only wiggle helplessly, unsure if her body wanted more or wanted to get away. His hard cock settled between her buttocks and she was surrounded by hard muscle, her body filled with languid heat. She was lost. God, it wasn't that she didn't want it, it was that she didn't want to want it.

"Just enjoy," he said soothingly, and then began to gently chew on her earlobe. She'd been so relaxed her body simply followed the drive of his, and it led to a small, shimmering peak. She cried out, clawing at his arms, bucking, wishing fervently he was inside her.

"Mmm," he moaned into her ear. "I love when you do that. Do it again."

There was no argument as a second finger joined the first inside her, and he did something clever, scissoring them. The heel of his hand ground into her now rather than rubbed and the alien sensation threw her up to another peak, and this time she screamed with it, clamping a hand over her mouth as she bucked and thrashed, pinned to him by that incredible strength as her body fluttered and the orgasm pulsed sweetly through her veins.

When the storm passed she was limp, panting, sated, and yet aching for more. "Fine, you win. Fuck me, fuck me now!"

"Bossy, aren't we? And did you forget we need a condom?"

She cursed viciously and forced him to let her go, intent on grabbing one from her purse on the nightstand, but he stopped her. "What's your rush? We have hours before dinner."

"Fine, fuck me, we nap, and we fuck again." Finally she met his eyes and saw a small flinch at the harsh word "fuck." Inwardly she groaned. This couldn't be anything other than it was, which was a torrid, stupid affair amidst a high stakes game where lives were on the line.

"Henry, I don't love you. I won't love you." She sat up, speaking solemnly, knowing it had to be clear.

"I never asked you to. Suck my cock."

The change of subject was so abrupt she just blinked for a moment. Hell, time, she needed time. If she could finish him that way it wouldn't be so...intimate.

Sliding down she eyed his cock, rather daunting now that she considered wrapping her lips around it, but Kerry actually enjoyed this act. There was control to it, whatever he might think, it mean she got to control his pleasure, direct it, and the thought was heady.

"Unless you're a telekinetic, looking at it won't do much."

There was laughter in his voice, so she just chuckled and wrapped a slim hand around the base. Christ, he was hard. Leaning down she took the weeping tip into her mouth and tasted his fluids, so pure and basic, a heady mix. He groaned and those strong hands smoothed into her hair, and she could feel from the tightness he wanted her to suck, take him deep and hard. In the mood to tease she began to lick.

She licked the head, tasting him, testing him, sliding her tongue deeply across the slit. His hands tightened and his breath sped up, and then she found his frenulum. Oh, he liked that, she realized after one heavy lick. She began to flick it quickly with the tip of her tongue and his body arched, a rumble in his chest victorious pleasure and sweet surrender in one. Ah, at last the sex god was a sacrifice to the goddess. Pleased with his reaction she began to suck.

Kerry sucked at his frenulum, flicking it with her tongue, and brought her other hand to cup his heavy balls. In one smooth move she cucked hard on his frenulum and then drew his entire head inside her mouth. As he gasped she began to move down his impossibly thick length. She pulled his heavy sac taught as she slid down, pulled his balls away as she retreated. He was huge, hard, she tasted his leaking fluids on the back of her tongue but still could only get half his cock into her mouth. She used her other hand at his base to move with her mouth, squeezing him hard.