Chapter 19
19
If Celeste had a watch, she would have checked it several times by now. Since they sat down, since Magnus plunked his earpiece into his glass, she had been fighting for her life, wondering when their twenty minutes was up.
His hot whispering in her ear bothered her tremendously and he knew it. She couldn’t seem to cross her legs any tighter and suddenly felt very naked sitting beside him. Magnus casually touched her here and there, which normally wouldn’t unsettle her... But it was his words that set her skin on fire. He’d always had a skilled tongue, in more ways than one, and his gift for dirty talk was unmatched. She just hated how she succumbed to it so easily.
“The eyes of every man in this club seem to come back to you,” he continued whispering. “As you sit here on display like a Caravaggio, blazing with passion and full of dark mystery, they keep coming back to you, wondering...”
She took a deep breath through her nose and finally sipped the champagne she clutched so tightly. Magnus spun such a good yarn even she found herself curious. “What?” she asked.
Though it seemed impossible, his body slid closer and his lips were at her temple, hot breath tickling the shell of her ear. “What is she hiding under that haughty expression? I’m the only man who knows what lies beneath your cool exterior, aren’t I?”
She twisted her head to look at him, but quickly remembered that Beatrice had a camera feed in her glasses. Celeste pivoted back to Sebastian, who occasionally glanced at her as he talked with the pretty young man of the VIP section. “I don’t know about all of that, Mags. You might be projecting.”
He chuckled darkly, lips brushing against her earlobe. “Perhaps I am. I do enjoy wondering about what’s beneath your facade. Since I’ve been around you, I’ve only sought to crack it just to see what’s inside.”
He had. Only last night.
Magnus had cracked her just enough to find a hot, aching woman who was ready to fall apart at his fingers. She hadn’t lied when she’d admitted she’d slept well. Celeste had always slept like the dead after an orgasm from Magnus. If her mind wasn’t on the man whom they were meant to glean information from, she would have been excited to go another round with her former lover tonight.
To any of the members of the crew listening to this strange one-sided conversation, it would seem like Magnus didn’t care about the job ahead of them. Celeste knew better. Like her, he kept one eye on their mark and the other on her. He used to do this all the time when they were in the field. She just hadn’t expected him to return to his old habits. She kept her gaze trained on Sebastian as she spoke. “If all goes well tonight...we could explore that,” she murmured against her glass.
“Well, that sounds marvelous.” The sigh in her ear sounded content as his warm palm slid up her thigh, settling on the edges of her hemline. “Because last night, when I went upstairs, I was as hard as iron, aching to be inside you.”
Celeste pursed her lips and closed her eyes before saying, “I hope you were able to take care of that.”
“You wanna hear about how I stood in a cold shower, gripping what should have been in your hands?”
“It sounds like you’re volunteering that information.”
The grip on her thigh tightened. “I got so fucking hot imagining what it would feel like to slip into you, to stroke you inside out. If your mouth could still work me over like it used to—”
“He’s coming!” Beatrice’s excited voice interrupted the flow of his dirty monologue just in time.
Jesus, what a terrible choice of words...
Sebastian was indeed swiftly approaching them. Celeste shoved Magnus away and abruptly stood. “Showtime,” she muttered. He joined her on his feet, buttoning his blazer. In the blink of an eye, he was back in the game.
“Monsieur Fond du Lac, thank you for meeting with us,” Magnus said.
The elderly man gave a short nod before focusing his attention on Celeste. She stared back, searching his wrinkled face for the younger man whom Doris fell in love with. He was a slender man, not too much taller than herself, and managed to wear the wrinkle-free, white linen suit with ease.
“My dear?”
“Doris Grant sent us to you with a message. ‘The South Sea is expensive, the Akoya is classic, but only the Tahitian has the character you once loved.’”
Sebastian’s green eyes closed for a few seconds. When he opened them again, they watered with tears. “I suspected I would receive such news,” he said in a soft, reedy voice. “Come with me.”
With a straight back, he turned on his heel and led them through the bustling crowd. Celeste quickly followed, surprised by how spry he was.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Beatrice said.
“He looked genuinely upset,” Celeste whispered.
Sebastian stopped short in front of another security guard who stood at a stairway leading downstairs. He quickly moved aside and let the three descend into a darkened stone wall basement. A door with an electronic keypad awaited them. Sebastian tapped out a code and let them enter a large office.
“Please sit down.” He gestured to two chairs while he discarded his suit jacket and tossed it on a brown leather couch. “What are your names?”
She introduced herself first. “My name is Dr. Celeste St. Pierre, and Dr. Grant was my mentor.”
Sebastian nodded as he undid the top button of his shirt and sat behind a long table that served as his desk. Celeste immediately recognized it as early-twentieth-century Thai teak and judged their host accordingly. Old money, world traveler... bordering on colonialist and a man very preoccupied with style.
“I’m Dr. Magnus Larsson. I worked with Dr. Grant years ago.”
The old man nodded again. “You almost look like her, Dr. St. Pierre,” he said, rummaging around inside the drawer before him.
She didn’t know how to reply to that, so Celeste stayed quiet.
“I received this from Doris one month ago.” He pulled out the same red envelope that kept appearing on this bizarre journey. “After not seeing her for thirty years, you can imagine my shock having read her letter. In it, she claimed to be writing from beyond the grave. That if I doubted her, just wait until the visit from her most gifted student, Celeste. Here you are...” He looked up with a tired expression.
“We’re sorry to confirm this,” she said.
Sebastian leaned back in his seat, steepling his hands before his mouth. “Do you know how we met?”
She shook her head. Strangely enough, her diaries never revealed that information. It was as if there was only life after Sebastian and she conveniently excised the life before from the record.
“I was about twenty-six when I went to Washington, D.C., on behalf of my father’s shipping business.” He trailed off as if transported to another time. “I had just left a meeting with my father’s partner, on my way back to the hotel, when a young woman bumped into me. Believing it was an accident, I steadied us both and apologized to her. She hurried off before I could say anything more.”
“But you soon realized you were missing something?” Magnus asked him.
The old man nodded, smiling at the memory. “Very quickly, actually. Doris wasn’t very skilled at the Bump and Lift, so I hadn’t made it to the end of the block before noticing. I turned around just in time to see her slip down an alleyway. She wore a red-and-white polka dot dress. She was too noticeable. Too easy to follow. Which is what I did.”
Celeste couldn’t imagine a time when Doris was a novice, but all thieves needed to start somewhere. “What happened when you caught up with her?”
“Ha! She was so indignant. Her eyes burned with anger, daring me to challenge her. Doris was so...enchanting in that moment. I fell in love with her instantly, ready to give myself, and anything else I could secure, over to her. But first I needed to teach her to steal correctly,” he chuckled softly. “She had the passion, but as I said, not the skill. I assume she’d been lucky in the past, but I knew her luck would run out without proper instruction. Thus began our love affair.”
“And the rest was history,” Celeste murmured.
“Does anyone else think that’s insanely romantic?” Beatrice breathed over the radio waves.
“I’m taking notes,” Santiago replied.
Celeste smiled.
“You have come here for a purpose,” Sebastian said, returning to the present.
“Yes,” Magnus said. “Our letter said that we would need to help you before you could help us.”
“Oui, exactement. Like my father, I am still shipping, but I work with very different clientele these days. Doris’s letter alluded to a job that I might need help with. How she knew this is beyond my reasoning. But I do need the help. It is my hope that you can accept the challenge so that I can give you the information you need. Doris was rather insistent that I follow her rules. No item, no clue.”
Magnus sighed. “Understood.”
Sebastian looked at Celeste and she nodded. “Yes. That’s what we assumed.”
The elderly man leaned forward, planting his elbow on the table. “The job is simple to explain. Your execution might be a bit more complicated. The young man whom you saw me interact with is the son of a Russian oil man. He has been pestering me about a Fabergé egg that is soon on its way to the Kadriorg Museum.” He shrugged. “I am a thief who tries not to get involved in geopolitical strife or family dramatics, but the boy says it is a Russian artifact that belongs in Russia. I have a feeling that he wants this egg to curry favor from a distant father. As I live in Estonia, full-time, I do not want this theft coming back to me. A freelance crew will do nicely.”
“Where is the egg coming from?”
“The British. They’re loaning the piece to the Estonians for a six-month exhibit. Apparently, they are not lending items to the Russians these days. This particular egg will arrive in two days.” He slipped a manila folder across the table, toward Celeste. “The details of the egg’s travel are in there. Once you’ve absconded with it, return here so that I may put it in storage for my buyer. Your payment will be intel from Doris, nothing more.”
“Okay,” Celeste said, taking the folder and standing up. “We’ll get your egg by the end of the week.”
Sebastian and Magnus stared at her, but the elderly man spoke first. “You behave just like her as well. A perfect clone of Doris...”
Celeste was caught off guard by his words, but quickly found her footing. “She taught me well,” she said carefully.
“Oui, and I, her. But I left absolutely no imprint. She took what I gave her and ran far, far away before carving her own path.” He shook his head with a sad smile. “I wonder if you truly knew the woman, mon petite. If you knew the shrewd and calculating woman who shaped you.” He glanced at Magnus and chuckled. “Does he know what shaped you?”
Celeste’s jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”
“I only ask because Doris and I only had conflict when I tried to talk to her about her past. She refused to acknowledge a past that shaped the woman she became. She couldn’t address the hole in her heart that couldn’t be filled with me or trinkets we stole together. Does your Magnus know he cannot fill a similar hole in your heart? That you will run and chase the next shiny thing that captures your gaze?”
“Monsieur Fond du Lac, that’s quite enough,” Magnus said, standing. “We’ll find your item, but you will not insult Dr. St. Pierre in the process.”
The elderly man nodded. “I see.”
Celeste’s voice was trapped in her throat as she glanced between the two men. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “But you’re mistaken.”
“I hope I am,” Sebastian said. “Just know that I loved your teacher. If she had allowed me, I would have followed her to her end. Instead, I was only granted a letter.”
His words rocked her, leaving her feeling confused. “Did you take her pearl necklace?” she asked, hoping to catch him off guard.
Instead of looking shamefaced, Sebastian chuckled as he stared into the distance. “It was our little game. She came to me the night I stole it. When I gave it back, we made love...and I was convinced she’d stay, but she ran again.” He locked eyes with her. “Where do you lost women run off to?”
Celeste St. Pierre did not know.
But she understood Doris’s itch all too well. She currently felt it in that basement office in Tallinn, Estonia, and she was ready to leave the suffocating room. Quickly.
Without waiting on Magnus, she hurried up the stairs. “Santiago, it’s time to go,” she said as she climbed.
“Coming.”
She pushed past the guard on the stairs and shoved her way through the wealthy clientele who clogged the dance floor.
“Celeste,” Magnus called behind her.
She ignored his voice and kept moving toward the exit. Relief didn’t come until she ended up back on the cobblestone streets. In the warm Estonian night air, she sucked in oxygen and clutched Sebastian’s manila folder to her chest.
Grief had shown up out of nowhere, ready to kick the shit out of her. It felt like the mother she’d never met, her grandmother and Doris arrived on that Saturday night only to hover above her. None of them offered a sign as she hugged herself tightly.
“Are you okay?” Magnus said from behind her. His hand was on her back once again but pressed firmly this time.
When she met his blue-eyed gaze, she shook her head.
“Oh, come here,” he whispered, gathering her into his arms.
All the while, her mind played Sebastian’s words in a loop.
Where do you lost women run off to?
As soon as the tears came, she felt immediate embarrassment. But when they wouldn’t stop, Celeste felt broken. For the first time since she learned Doris had died, she wept like a motherless child. The ache squeezed her chest until she could barely breathe.
“You’re okay,” Magnus murmured from the top of her head. He pulled her closer until she was folded into him, safely guarded from prying eyes. “I’ve got you, darling. I’m here.”
Celeste didn’t feel much else outside of his strong arms wrapped around her, his hot breath fanning across her temple. “I’m not running,” she hiccuped, looking up at him.
Magnus’s brow furrowed. “I know that. You’re right here, Celeste, with us. And I’m with you all.”
She desperately wanted to believe that, despite all the pain in her chest. The hollow feeling in her heart. Celeste held him tighter just so she could keep herself tethered to reality. If Magnus was offering a soft spot on Earth, she wanted to land there.
She needed him to catch her.