Chapter 8
After slipping inside from the terrace, Dane looked for Shana and saw her go inside the kitchen.
He needed to watch the ballroom for Jean Luc’s idea of a dangerous man and he decided the best way to do that would be to dance with Angelique.
After all, he had promised Jean Luc he’d look out for his niece.
He spotted Angelique and walked toward her, but Sassy darted forward, stopping him in his tracks with an arm on his before he reached his would-be dance partner.
“Sassy—everything all right?”
“No—I mean fine. Mr. Blaise, I heard something and I need to tell you before you talk to her.” She darted her eyes in the direction of Angelique. Dane looked up to see Angelique’s smile and that she was now headed in their direction through a knot of people.
“Better hurry then,” he said.
Sassy blurted, “I heard Angelique talking to someone in a foreign language, but it wasn’t French.”
Dane’s face froze in direct proportion to the level of turmoil rising in his gut.
He said, “Go on.” His words sounded normal, but his tension grew.
His instincts screamed that this was no coincidence; that a Tavares connection was real, but he forced himself to think; to be rational and wait for more facts.
He slowed down his breathing and concentrated on Sassy’s next words.
“She—Angelique—was laughing and said something about looking forward to her old school friend joining her here soon. She switched in and out of English so it was hard to tell anymore—but there was definitely an old school friend and it sounded like she was coming to town.”
“Who was she talking to, Sassy? Did you hear a name?”
“No name—she was talking to her friend. I’m sorry, I’m rushing and I’m not making sense. But none of this makes sense.”
“It’s fine—you did fine. Better than fine, Sassy.” Dane gave the girl a quick hug and a pat on her back and a wink and swept past her. “Back to my mission. You get back to your post and keep up the good work.”
Dane picked up Angelique’s trail and came up behind her.
He bent his head and spoke in her ear. “Let’s dance.
” He saw the rise of gooseflesh on the pale skin of her neck and otherwise she didn’t respond.
He took that as a yes. They found their way to the dance floor and he was back to babysitting.
At least the music was good and she danced well.
Her fluid black silk sheath felt cool under his hands. Dane held her close, taking in her delicate scent, and said, “It’s remarkable that a jewel thief such as yourself is wearing no jewels.”
“You jest. I am not interested in jewels. That is why I do not wear them.”
“If you’re not a jewel thief, then what are you?”
“I am a museum curator.” She smiled up at him. The music stopped but he continued to hold her.
“What is a museum curator from France doing on Martha’s Vineyard?”
“So many questions, Mr. Blaise. Are you a policeman after all?”
“What are you doing here, Angelique?”
“Very well, I will answer your interrogation. I am here partly on business and partly on vacation.”
The answer meant nothing, but he led her from the dance floor and looked around for Shana.
It was automatic, like a reflex. He needed to know where she was at all times and it had nothing to do with the case.
This case was nothing like the last one—a chase to Brazil to tangle with the Tavares cartel.
He spotted Shana across the room headed toward the foyer.
She was talking and tapping her earpiece.
He tapped his, made sure it was clicked on, and heard nothing.
The sight of her walking away was like an irritant, like he was missing something, and he kept a surreptitious eye on her.
The band had started another song. Angelique clutched his arm.
“Is there something wrong?”
“No.” He wasn’t going to tell Angelique his earpiece wasn’t working.
It occurred to him that she might already know this.
Because she might be the reason it wasn’t working.
She could have easily disabled it with a close-range jamming device.
He needed to get a look inside her bag. Although she could be hiding such a small device anywhere on her person.
She took a glass of champagne from a waiter—from Ronnie Ryan, who winked as he passed by. She said, “Jean Luc was right—you and Shana are lovers. He warned me that you would still be together.”
“Why did you come here? Are you carrying out some vendetta for your uncle?”
“No, it is coincidental, pure chance these jewel thefts.” She said no more, but led him back to the dance floor.
He went along with her. He decided he ought to stick with her since they hadn’t spotted anyone else suspicious.
But he’d need to check in with Shana soon.
It was obvious she’d been trying to contact him.
He brought Angelique around to Ronnie again in a sweeping move to the music.
He said, “I’ll have another champagne.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dane spoke under his breath. “My earpiece isn’t working. Have Shana meet me on the terrace in fifteen minutes.”
Ronnie’s eyes took on that twinkle like he’d just shared an inside joke. Dane hoped the joke wasn’t on him.
“It’s crowded inside—let’s go back out.” Angelique took his arm again.
Dane walked Angelique out to the terrace, to where they’d met earlier. He looked her in the eye, smiled and said, “Who’s your partner in crime?”
“You’re incorrigible. I’m not a criminal.” She smiled and waved a hand. “I’m not your jewel thief. Do you think I would be crazy enough to try and get away with such a thing if I were a thief—with you here?”
He watched her eyes twinkle and he knew he was being played. He needed to play back and come on hard and strong if he was going to win this one. If he were doing his job right, doing it professionally, he would be going home with Angelique tonight.
But he couldn’t. His mind slipped to Shana. They had to stay and talk to their client and check on the jewels. Then he would go home with his girl.
Angelique brought him back when she raised a hand to his cheek and caressed it. An oddly intimate gesture.
“What are you thinking, Dane? About her?”
“Who?”
“Don’t pretend. You are with her. She’s a lucky one.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” He drew a breath for drama and plunged into his role.
“But it’s not true. We’re platonic partners these days—spending too much time together sometimes dampens the romance.
We weren’t meant to be a couple, Shana and me.
We were meant to be partners.” He didn’t know if it was a lie. What he said could very well be true.
“Partners? That is all?” She laughed that musical laugh. He regretted for a blink of time that she was a jewel thief and he was here to catch her.
“I don’t know, Dane. I don’t think I believe you.
” She leaned in close and drew a deep breath.
“I can sense her scent on you. I have the keen Ruse nose for these things.” She drew her hand down from his face and laid it on his chest over his heart.
He had a flash of her conducting her own little version of a lie-detector test.
“What can I do to prove it to you?”
That changed the smile on her face from smug to intrigued.
He shifted closer and pressed his advantage.
She was small and he towered over her and enveloped her in his arms until she was lost, tight against him.
The warmth of her body and the softness of her small breasts had their effect.
He held her chin in his hand. She looked innocent.
He could feel the rapid-fire excitement of the pulse in her neck.
He pressed his mouth to her lips. They felt foreign. They weren’t Shana’s lips.
But Angelique kissed back, a sweet kiss, and he responded, falling into his role more comfortably.
*****
Shana rushed around the corner and stopped short before she ran into a couple.
She backed up a step and realized the couple in the heated embrace was none other than Dane and Angelique. They broke apart. Shana’s heart stuttered and the air seemed to get sucked from her lungs.
“Excuse me.” She hadn’t meant to sound breathless.
Angelique smiled. Sweetly. Shana’s judgment of the woman snapped into place. No matter what Angelique Dubois did or didn’t do, no matter what she was or was not, Shana would detest her from that moment forward.
Dane gave Shana a look. One that she had no idea how to read, but she knew there was no apology in it.
“We need to talk.” Shana paused a beat, flicking a glance at Angelique. “When you have a minute.”
She went back inside to do her job and hoped to hell Dane was doing his job. Of course he was doing his job. What else could it have been?
She stopped herself from answering that question. It didn’t bear answering.
In the meantime, she went upstairs to check on the safe—to make sure the Portuguese-speaking man hadn’t lifted the jewels while she’d lost track of him.
They would catch him on video with the cameras Dane had planted, but they needed to catch him—physically—before he left town, preferably the moment he left the party.
And most preferably while he accompanied his partner in crime, Angelique Dubois.
She found Bill Gable. “Come with me to check on the safe.” She turned to go up the stairs.
“So that’s what you’re calling it?”
“Pardon?” Shana looked at him and stopped herself in the nick of time from slapping the wolfish smile off his face. “I’m here to protect your jewels, remember? We really are going to check the safe.”
“Too bad. You know we’ve had security at the top of the stairs all night—no way anyone got past—”
“Unless someone bought them off or—”
They stopped at the top of the stairs and she could see the security guard leaning against the wall, texting or doing something else on his phone.
“See—all is well.”
“Let’s check the safe anyway—now that we’re here.”
“I’m with you. I like that you’re being extra cautious.”