Chapter 9
Dane wished Shana hadn’t followed him out back to check the terrace. It could get dicey if they found their man out here. But this was her case and she knew how to handle herself. Hell, she’d saved his skin on more than one occasion.
He loosened his tie as he jogged toward the master bedroom balcony and the shrubbery below.
He knew what he’d find so he looked for it, examining the underbrush without disturbing it.
He saw the imprint of a shoe. It was a mild depression in the mulch, subtle, but with the added disturbance in the bushes—two small bent branches—he knew someone had pushed off at this point to climb up.
“Our man was here. He climbed—”
“How did he do that? There’s nothing to climb on.” Shana stood next to him with her hands on her hips looking up the fifteen feet to the spacious balcony above. It was partly recessed into the side of the house, but jutted out over the shrubbery about five feet.
“He used a ladder—the collapsible kind.”
“And where would he have been carrying that—his back pocket?”
“He got it from his car—he and Angelique came in through the terrace earlier. I thought it was strange at the time, but it makes sense now. He probably took the time to check out the balcony then and place the ladder where it would be out of sight and handy.”
“Because if he’d taken the time to go to the car now we would have caught him.” Shana blew out a sigh. “We didn’t catch him, but I bet the surveillance camera did.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. I’m putting my money on the likelihood that both cameras covering this area were disabled.”
“So he’s gotten away then.”
“Unless he’s still upstairs.” Dane calculated the time and distance, then turned and would have dashed back through the ballroom and up the stairs, but Shana stopped him.
“Don’t bother. Ronnie saw him leave.”
“Was that before or after he climbed up onto the balcony?”
“After. Had to be. I haven’t seen him since and that had to be more than fifteen minutes ago now.”
Dane took a deep breath of the sea air. He didn’t like the feeling of being had, of being beaten at this game.
Buttoning it up with the certain knowledge that this was only a skirmish and the war was still on.
He tightened his resolve. This was now an official case.
A mission. “Time to face the music.” He reached out and drew Shana to him and led her back over the grass toward the terrace.
“Our clients aren’t going to like this.”
“I know you don’t care—”
“Of course I do. But you know it’s better to catch the thieves with the jewels and get them for theft rather than attempted theft.”
“You’re assuming we’ll catch them with the jewels.” She smiled.
“Of course.”
They walked back inside through the terrace doors to find the crowd had disappeared from the ballroom. He pulled Shana closer and breathed in her heady scent.
“I don’t know, Dane. Angelique did a pretty good job of keeping you distracted while her accomplice stole the jewels—she outdid you at your own game.”
“We can let her think that. But you and I know we have an ace up our sleeve.”
“We know who her accomplice is—sort of.”
“No. She’s the one who gave us Bellarine.”
“Then what ace do we have?”
“Acer.”
She laughed and punched him without force.
The wave of warmth that went through him made the night worth whatever ridiculousness he had to put up with.
They emerged from the ballroom to the foyer to find the Gables saying good-bye to the last of their guests.
Angelique stood by and looked straight at Dane as they approached.
“There you are—I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye. I thought for a moment you had deserted me.” Her eyes flicked to Shana, and though her smile didn’t falter, Dane could swear the gleam in her eye changed to less than friendly.
“It was your partner in crime who deserted you. Not me. I came with my girl Shana. Remember?” Two could taunt.
To her credit, Angelique laughed her lighthearted laugh and with her French accent in full form said, “Touché.”
The petite woman turned to the Gables. “Merci beaucoup for all your hospitality. It was a lovely evening.” She stepped to the door.
Shana nudged him. He would have been happy to let her go.
He didn’t like her company. Something about her was off.
She reminded him of a Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde—a dangerous and creepy female version.
Under her breath, Shana leaned in and said, “Make your move—we can’t just let her go without something. ”
Dane walked out the door after Angelique to find her dialing up someone on her cell phone.
“Checking in with your partner?”
“Calling a taxi. Unless you would like to—”
“Give you a ride to your hotel? Not a chance. I need to wrap up the evening with our clients. Any suggestions about what I ought to tell them when we find their jewels missing?”
She gave him a broad sly smile. “You could tell them you’re working on getting the jewels back.”
“And how would I go about doing that?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Are you sure you won’t—”
“Positive. Work comes first.”
She shook her head. “You are a lot like my uncle Jean Luc.”
“Don’t tell him that.”
“Non? I think he would be the first one to agree.” Her taxi pulled up, sparing him from further small talk where they danced around the truth as if it were a scorching flame that could destroy them. For her, it could be true, for all he knew.
Dane shut the door of Angelique’s taxi and watched the car pull away.
Then he went back inside the house to face the Gables.
It was almost morning. They stood with Shana waiting for him in the foyer.
Moment of truth time. He’d find out exactly how far the Gables’ good humor and Beachcomber Investigations’ goodwill extended.
“I think the night was a roaring success,” Bill Gable said.
“And no robberies,” Mrs. Gable smiled. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Hold that thought. Let’s go up and check the safe—to be safe,” Dane said.
He took Shana’s arm and squeezed it to prevent her frown from getting any further.
Even though they’d spotted the area below the balcony where the accomplice likely climbed up, they had nothing solid.
Cap could send his team to check for prints and the surveillance tapes but they wouldn’t find anything.
He and Shana had checked the surveillance tapes for the prior parties and saw nothing. They weren’t sure who the hell their man was but they were fairly certain he got the jewels. Dane was also certain that Angelique Dubois had not stolen any jewels that evening.
“Of course. Let’s go confirm our defeat of the Great Martha’s Vineyard Jewel Thief.” Bill Gable took his wife’s hand and they led Dane and Shana up the stairs. Laura Gable giggled.
“What are we going to tell them?” Shana whispered.
“We’ll get the jewels back. I’ll get Angelique to talk.”
“You’ll get her to talk?” Shana’s whisper rose in pitch, but the Gables weren’t paying attention to them as they stumbled ahead into their master bedroom down the hall at the top of the stairs.
“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt her.”
She whispered, barely, “It’s not her I’m worried about.
While her accomplice was busy stealing jewels, she kept you busy.
” She glared at him. He smiled at the sparks in her eyes.
He loved those sparks. He felt the jolt of desire then and this was the worst possible time.
He tamped down and took her arm, turning his attention to their clients.
“We wanted them to steal the jewels, remember?” Dane said.
“But we were supposed to catch them in the act—before they left the premises.”
“It’ll be more exciting this way.” He squeezed her.
The Gables were in the room and Bill was deftly spinning the lock on the safe door when he and Shana walked in. He felt Shana’s nerves.
“Mr. Gable—”
Dane tugged on her arm and leaned his head to whisper in her ear. She tugged away from him, but he tugged back, ignoring the stab between his shoulders paining him at her resistance. He should be used to it.
He said, “Don’t worry.”
Mrs. Gable hovered to one side and Mr. Gable stepped to the other, looked over his shoulder at Dane and Shana and then swung the door open with a flourish.
“Voilà—the jewels.”
Mrs. Gable sucked in a swift breath and brought her hands to her mouth. Mr. Gable frowned and turned to look into the safe.
Dane made no reaction and held Shana’s arm. Shana, to her credit, held herself stoically in check while she no doubt calculated in her head the loss in fees that they would suffer when the Gables fired them.
The safe was empty. No jewels.
No one spoke.
Dane said, “We’ll get your jewels back.”
Mr. Gable turned to him and folded his arms, speechless for a moment.
Then he said, “You’d better get them back—if you want to get paid.”
“You’ll have them. I guarantee it.”
Dane gave the man a steely look to let him know he didn’t appreciate the threat.
He didn’t care if Gable was the client. There was more than one way to skin a cat—or collect a fee—and his girl was counting on that money.
This case was now officially more interesting.
Dane would enjoy playing hardball with Gable.
Almost as much as he planned to enjoy playing hardball with Angelique. Albeit a different method of hardball.
He grabbed Shana’s arm and walked her out of the room before she said anything. He knew there was nothing more to say.
He started up the Jag, which had been waiting for them right out front under the portico as they emerged into the dawning light from the Gables’ mansion. Breathing in the heavy sea air, Dane cleared his head of the case for the moment.
“We need to find those jewels,” Shana said more to herself than to him. “I’m counting on the fee. For when my mum and brothers come—”
“You’ll be fine. Besides, I thought you said they won money. Surely they have enough to stay at a very nice nearby hotel—maybe the Admiral’s Inn.”