Chapter 8 #2
They approached the guard and he slipped the phone into his pocket.
“Have you seen anyone come upstairs—maybe ten minutes ago?” she asked.
“No—but I might have been on break.”
“Who covered for you?” She asked.
“Covered for me?”
She didn’t say what she was thinking. None of her thoughts were fit for her client to hear.
Bill Gable said, “No one covered for you. You went on a break and left the hall—the master bedroom—unguarded?” He sounded calm but she knew his voice was not normally so high.
The guard shrugged. He was twenty-something years old.
“You can take a break now. Permanently,” Gable said.
Shana went past the open-mouthed guard into the master bedroom to the closet, where the safe took up the bottom third.
“Nothing looks out of place—but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Will you open it?” she said.
Gable bent and took thirty seconds to open the door, then he took an audible breath. Shana glanced inside.
The jewels were there.
“That’s a relief,” Gable said.
“Now we need to make sure we keep track of them the rest of the night.” They’d be able to monitor access from the inside easily enough. Shana walked over to the French doors leading to a balcony. It was a long way down and nothing was out of place. She let her breath out.
“I’ll have someone else reassigned. And I’ll make sure they put their best man up here this time,” Gable said.
She nodded but didn’t say what she thought. She wanted Angelique or her partner to get upstairs and try to steal the jewels.
But that was her agenda. And Dane’s. They wanted to catch Angelique red-handed. She knew Angelique was the thief.
But she knew the Gables—their clients—were more interested in preventing the theft of their jewels.
As far as Gable was concerned, Shana and Dane were here as a deterrent.
His broadcasting loud and clear about having the two notorious detectives at work at his party was his way of helping the cause.
Shana asked, “How many security people do you have here tonight?”
“You mean besides you and Dane? We have six. That’s standard for a party this size.”
Shana nodded. But crowd control was a far cry from dealing with a jewel thief.
“I need to consult with Dane.” She paused and decided to take a calculated risk. “We think our suspect has a partner, but we won’t know unless we can catch him. Maybe we should leave the guard off the upstairs duty.”
“And then what? Are you going to hide in my bedroom and surprise the thief? Because I’d—”
“No. No theatrics, Mr. Gable.”
“Call me Bill.”
“We’ll need to catch them red-handed—with the jewels.” She took a breath and added, “Preferably after they leave the premises.”
“That’s very risky.”
“It’s your call.”
“Let’s see what Dane thinks.”
As they walked down the stairs to go back to the party, the looks people gave them were not lost on Shana. She’d better have a chat with Mrs. Gable before her friends did.
Now to find Dane. Her chest tightened. He’d be with his new girlfriend. She walked with her client back into the ballroom.
“There he is.”
He stood on the perimeter, alone, entertaining a group of guests and sipping a drink she’d bet was tequila over ice. Shana headed in Dane’s direction with Gable.
Ronnie emerged from the crowd and she stopped and took a glass of champagne from his tray. He said, “This party is too cool for anyone to leave—you’d have to be crazy.” He looked around and held his tray high at his shoulder. Shana hoped he didn’t get it knocked off his hand.
“What do you mean? People are leaving?” Gable asked.
“Yes sir. Only a few.”
“I’ll be a minute,” Shana said and pulled Ronnie aside. “Did you see the fat middle-aged bald man I told you about?”
“I think so. He just left.”
“Damn—when?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“Double damn.” She saw Gable pulling Dane aside. “Good work, Ronnie. I have to talk to Dane.”
She caught up with Gable and Dane as they headed her way and met at the kitchen door. She said, “Where’s Dubois?”
“Powder room. Why?”
“Didn’t Gable tell you?”
“That the jewels are still in the safe?”
“Yes. But I’ve been trying to get you on the earpiece—I spotted the suspected accomplice—then lost him. Ronnie said he left a few minutes ago—and counting.”
“Then he left without the jewels.”
“And that means Angelique is—”
“Right behind you,” Angelique said. “Is there a problem?”
“No, nothing at all,” Gable said. “You all enjoy the party. I’m going to arrange for that second floor thing,” he added to Shana. She nodded. She didn’t blame him. She and Dane weren’t exactly hitting it out of the park with their attempt to trap the thief.
She looked at Dane. Angelique stood next to him, making her feel like the third wheel. But that was ridiculous. She was not the third wheel type. Ever.
“Dane, we need to talk business for a minute.” She reached out and took his arm—the one near Angelique, practically ripping him from the petite woman’s grasp. She said over her shoulder, “Business.”
Underneath her cool move, her heart bounced high in her throat and her insides seethed with the need to strangle the woman. Shana was certain that Dane knew. He put up no argument. Said not one word.
They walked in the direction of the terrace.
Shana felt hot. She really did need some air.
She shouldn’t let that woman get to her, shouldn’t let the heat get to her.
She needed her cool to run bone deep. She needed to match—or even outdo Dane’s cool demeanor.
She knew she could do it. Competing with him was a compulsion.
Probably not a healthy one, but it couldn’t be helped.
Maybe that was the problem with their relationship.
But then again, maybe the edge of constant competition made it more exciting.
They stopped when they reached the steps leading to the ocean and she could hear the rush of the surf loud and clear.
She turned to him. And then all she could hear was the rush of passion and need and the thunder of her treacherous heart.
*****
“Someone needs to keep an eye on Angelique, you know,” he said. But he didn’t mind being dragged to the terrace by a hot and bothered Shana.
“You’re an idiot.”
“You’re jealous.”
“She’s seducing you—playing you.”
“That’s the idea. We want her to believe that. Then—”
“Shut up. I want her to steal the jewels. It’s the only way we’ll catch her. In the act.”
“Then let’s go up to the bedroom.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You’re as bad as Gable.”
Those were not words he wanted to hear. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing. We can’t hide in the bedroom to catch her. She would know and she wouldn’t steal anything. She’s not an idiot.”
“That leaves the balcony. It would be tricky,” he said. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
“What about the cameras?”
“They’re not night vision cameras. If the thief dressed in black, he could stay fairly invisible.”
“So you think the Portuguese-speaking man—”
“Portuguese speaking? You’ve seen him?” He hoped the hell she wasn’t jumping to conclusions. He didn’t want her worrying. Didn’t want her to be in danger—again.
“I heard the suspected accomplice speaking Portuguese.”
He took a beat to calm his pulse. They both knew it could be the Tavares family.
“It’s a coincidence, Shana.”
She nodded. “Has to be.”
“Yes, I think he left early to climb up the balcony and walk into the open terrace doors of the master bedroom.” He looked in the direction of the master bedroom balcony. He saw nothing, but too much time had gone by. He was long gone if he’d done it.
“It’s probably futile, but let’s take a walk around back.”