42. The Art of Misdirection
42
THE ART OF MISDIRECTION
Jake
The mint chip was delicious. The company was even better. The taste of mint and sweetness on her lips as I kissed her while we walked along the street, music playing from bars, the island breeze floating by, was the best.
Spotting the sign for The Pink Pelican flickering neon in the night, I nodded to the bar where we’d met. “Quick game of darts before we call it a night?”
“You’re a glutton for punishment,” she said, then fixed on her best game face. “Get ready to be destroyed, Hawkins.”
“You’re on.”
Maris worked the bar, just like she had the night we met, but we didn’t interrupt her as she scurried from one end to the other, tending to customers. Ruby and I held our rematch, but this time I won.
I raised my arms in victory while Ruby exaggerated a frown. “No fair. Another round?”
“Not until you admit I beat the dart shark fair and square,” I said.
She scowled. “Never. I will never admit defeat.”
I grabbed her waist and slammed her close. Her breath caught. I nipped her earlobe. “Admit it,” I growled. “Admit I am masterful at darts. Then, and only then, will I accept your rematch offer.”
She shook her head and made a move toward the dart in my hand like she was trying to subtly snatch it away. I clamped it tight in my fingers and raised an eyebrow. “You trying to pickpocket me?”
“If pickpocketing from your hand counts, then yes. I was.”
“If that’s the case, you need a lesson in technique, woman. You’re too obvious.”
“Oh, of course, you would know how to pick pockets too?” She narrowed her eyes skeptically as she grabbed her iced tea from the nearby counter and took a drink.
I laughed and admitted, “I do. I don’t do it often, but it’s a useful skill.”
She put down the glass, resettled her purse on her shoulder, and demanded, “Teach me.”
“Can’t really teach you everything in one night, but it’s all about the art of misdirection.” I led her back to the dartboard, and grabbing a dart from the green felt, I raised it and took aim at the bull’s-eye. Her gaze followed the dart. “The trick is to get the person to look at one thing while you’re busy with another.”
“Got it,” she said. She stared at the dartboard for one second…two seconds…three…until she realized nothing else was going to happen there. She snapped her focus back to me, and I brandished her wallet.
Laughing, she snatched it back. “Did you have to use my purse as a demo?” she asked, faux outraged.
“I sure did. But that was the point. To show you how it’s done.”
“Okay,” she said with a bring-it-on wiggle of her fingers. “Let me try.”
I taught her a few basic distraction tricks, and she practiced on me, dipping her fingers into my pockets and trying to lift my watch. She was no pro, and I was aware of her moves every time. But her technique improved with the brief lesson.
The repeated gliding of her hand into my pocket, though, pulled my focus away from teaching and on to the next phase of tonight.
“That’s all for today’s lesson,” I said. “Need to get you alone now.”
Her eyes told me she wanted that too.
As we headed for the door, I paused to acknowledge Maris, who’d been busy all evening pulling the tap and pouring drinks. I caught her eye and gave her a farewell tilt of the head, but she beckoned us over.
“Hey, you found your sexy fisherman,” she said to Ruby, flicking her long braid off her shoulder so it hung down her back. She turned to me next. “And you found my favorite mermaid.”
“We did find each other,” Ruby said in a sweet voice that nailed me right in the heart.
We found each other.
Those words pulsed with double meaning.
The way my heart skipped at the sound of them almost distracted me from a nagging realization, poking me with an obvious oversight. It was a cliché, but bartenders noticed things. At least, Maris did, and had shown as much the day I first came into The Pink Pelican. And the bar was only a few shops away from Willow’s gallery.
I gestured her closer so I wouldn’t have to shout. “Did you see much traffic from the reception at Willow’s Island Gallery last night?”
“You still trying to sell that Renoir?” she asked with a wink and a grin.
“Yeah, I have a confession: I don’t actually own a Renoir.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Next you’re going to tell me you’re not really a fisherman.”
“No, I really am a fisherman,” I assured her in the same bantering tone.
“Oh, then you’re not trying to find out who was at the gallery that night?” Maris asked, as she replaced customers’ empty beer bottles with full ones. “You don’t want to know if any of those snooty art lovers deigned to stop in The Pink Pelican after their wine and aperitifs?”
I spread my hands in a you got me shrug. “You see right through me, Maris.”
“I’m guessing this is because the gallery owner’s pendant got stolen?”
“Is there talk about it on the street?” Ruby asked, chiming in.
I perked up too, leaned forward, hungry for rumors going around the shops and clubs near Willow’s gallery.
“All I know is after the party, a couple of people came over for something stronger than rosé, and they were talking about how the diamond had disappeared from around the woman’s neck in the middle of the reception.”
“Who were they?” I asked.
“The manager of the gallery, a waitress from the nightclub down the street, and,” she said, taking a beat to give a sly grin—I wasn’t sure why she did that, but then she added— “A very sexy guy with a snake tattoo.”
A new customer sidled up to the bar and raised a few fingers, eager to order.
“Need to run,” Maris said, and blew us a kiss as she returned to work. “Come back soon.” Then she stopped, backed up a few steps, and leaned across the counter toward us. “You two make an adorable couple. You know that, right?”
Ruby blushed, and I put on a stoic face to hide the grin I felt inside.
As we left, Ruby squeezed my arm. “Snake tattoo,” she whispered when we reached the sidewalk. “The manager at the nightclub.”
That jogged my memory. I’d seen the guy in Eli’s office at the nightclub the other night. Had he been there legitimately? Or had he been poking around? “Think he’s our Mr. Smith?”
Ruby’s eyes sparkled with mystery-solving excitement as she connected clues. “He knows Eli. He’d probably know Eli had some diamonds. He certainly knew Willow had one. What if he took it last night at the party? Maybe he has a bone to pick with Eli.” She grabbed my arm, clutching me tightly. “Jake,” she whispered. “I saw him at Happy Turtle a few days ago. He was sunbathing and looked like he was asleep. But what if he was…”
“Following you?”
Her face turned whiter than it had been the moment before.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart,” I said, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “And we’ll keep our eyes peeled for him. You’re seeing Eli tomorrow, right?”
She nodded as a night breeze drifted by, swirling the hem of her skirt. “I am. I’ll see what I can find out. I have an idea for how to pull off the next phase of our plan.”
On the way back to the hotel, we plotted the next day, and everything, every damn thing, about this walk and this talk felt right. We were in this together, chasing the same prize, working as a team. As we headed through the front doors of the hotel, I dropped a kiss onto her cheek. “So much better to work with you than against you,” I said.
“I can think of other things you can do against me though,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
I groaned, tightening my arm around her shoulders. My hotel was bigger than hers, with an open, airy lobby and sleek floors. Music drifted from the busy bar. Ruby glanced toward the live band playing there. Her gaze paused on a woman with jet-black hair, perched on a barstool.
“Oh my god, that’s Monica from the sex-toy party,” Ruby said in a choked whisper.
Wait. I stopped in my tracks. “Did you say Monica?” I asked, but I was already glancing her way. Holy shit. That was her at the bar, holding a drink, chatting with another woman, laughing.
That was the same woman from the diamond shop.
This island was seriously small.
“Do you know her?” Ruby asked.
“She works at a diamond shop,” I said.
“And sells sex toys,” Ruby said with a crease in her brow. Then she shrugged. “But who doesn’t have a side hustle these days?”
“Fair point,” I said, and peered one more time at her. But the woman was simply having a good time with a friend. Nothing more.
Ruby quickly grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the elevators. “I don’t want her to see me and start a conversation about ten-carat butt plugs.”
I laughed as Ruby stabbed repeatedly at the elevator button. And since I was eager to get upstairs too, I whisked her into the lift as soon as the doors opened, primed to get her to my room and naked as soon as possible. There, she’d be safe from Monica the diamond sex-toy woman and snake-tattoo man. The only danger she’d face would be the sweet torture I had in mind for her when we were alone.