Chapter Seven
As the limo made its way down the winding road onto the state’s property, Jenna could see other limos waiting at the dock for the ferry passengers to take them to their party destination. The senator had gone all-out to impress his guests. She noticed two other limos leaving as they got to the main entrance. Happy to see she wouldn’t be the first guest; she got out of the car and spent a few minutes looking around before she entered the house.
What used to be an actual house was now more of a functioning building for state affairs. It was an old mansion, one of two structures repurposed and added on to over the years. Georgia’s way of preserving its history while also making it pay for itself. The building and adjacent land was owned by the state and used mostly for official functions for politicians. This was a much different setting than the senator’s private residence which was within walking distance of the state’s historical house. Also known as prime real estate.
The senator’s house was a true Southern mansion, complete with columns and a winding front porch with white rocking chairs all around. The senator snapped up the adjoining land the second he knew it was going up for sale, which was due to his connections. Jenna saw more security people than the night before, and she wondered if the senator was also more worried about security than he seemed.
Since the senator’s home was so close, Jenna knew security would be set up there, as well. Maybe that would be a deterrent to the thief. As another limo pulled up, Jenna moved on and went inside, wondering where Dan might be. The music was soft, the bar was open and free, and the menu was to be traditional fare for the Savannah area. Someone knew the recipe for a successful event.
Jenna opted for a glass of white wine from the bar and scanned the room. She didn’t see Dan or anyone who looked like they might be Gail Wells, but the room was beginning to fill up. She moved on, found a quieter and more private place away from the door and bar, and used the time to record a few notes on her phone about party details. She took a few pictures to help her recall the setting later when she would be writing about it. Her readers loved hearing about what the women wore and what was on the menu. The Southern “gentry” was still a mystery to a lot of her New York readers. Some still pictured women like Scarlett O’Hara apparently. This always amused Jenna because so many were actually like Scarlett—made of steel, accomplished, determined, and smart. It was only the clothes and hair styles that changed.
Most of the guests were Southern, so the menu was coastal Southern food and always a big hit with the guests. Jenna chatted with a woman who complimented her dress and earrings as she walked past on her way to the bar. She kept her gaze on the main entrance, hoping to see Dan, but two men, who seemed to be dateless, approached her, and she was distracted for a few minutes.
Eventually, the music changed, and then went quiet. After a short lull, someone picked up a microphone and asked the guests to move into the dining area and look for their place cards. Jenna lagged behind as long as she could, still looking for Dan and anyone who might fit Gail Wells’ description, but eventually she was forced to go to her table.
Jenna was seated at a round table with seven other guests. The empty chair beside her was meant for Brock. She felt no need to explain her lack of escort to her table companions and tried to keep up with the conversation as she continued to watch for Dan. She was even less sure now she would recognize Gail Wells in this dim lighting if she saw her, but she kept looking. She only got a glimpse of the woman’s back and profile when Dan took over and rushed her out the door.
The music became softer as dinner was served, and conversations picked up at the tables. Eventually, a steady hum of voices blended in with the piano music, making it an enjoyable dinner.
Senator Roseland and Mrs. Roseland stood as dinner wrapped up, thanked them for coming, and said good things about the guests, staff, and the food. It was the usual polite, universal thanks for coming, and we-will-be-asking-you-for-money speech.
The guests were urged to go out onto the balcony for drinks after dinner and were promised the enjoyment of the sea air. Some of the men lingered at the tables, lighting cigars, and pouring brandy, a tradition that seemed to never die. But most of the women and some of the younger men made their way out to the balcony. They could see and be seen and admire each other’s dresses and jewelry there. The men could size up each other, talk business, and pretend otherwise, fooling no one. Connections and deals would be made.
Jenna weaved her way through the crowd, taking a mental inventory of all the jewelry on display, which seemed to be real, and she mentally calculated the worth. She guessed there must be multi-millions on display tonight, but the big payoff was tomorrow night at the Black-and-White Masked Ball. The diamonds would come out in force along with some black pearls, and maybe some rubies and emeralds meant to stand out against all the black or white dresses. It was the society and political show of the year in Georgia.
Jenna finally caught a glimpse of Dan as he, too, worked the room. She noticed how the gazes of many women followed him as he went from group to group to see and be seen.
One woman in particular zeroed in on Dan. The tall, leggy brunette perched on a bar stool, sipping at a glass of wine.
Jenna followed her gaze right to Dan and watched as a satisfied smile spread across her face. She knew it must be Gail Wells, and she was thinking she would catch Dan this time. Jenna was alarmed at the expression on her face as she continued to watch Dan—pure hate.
Jenna thought the party would never end. She grew tired of smiling, and the wine was going to her head since she had eaten little. At midnight, she decided to go back to the hotel and think through her plan for the next morning. She must get into Gail’s room, check out every nook and cranny, including her computer, and all in an hour. Her mind would need to be clear and her hands steady. She kept picturing that expression on her face when she looked at Dan and knew they were in for trouble.
She didn’t see Dan as she left and was a little disappointed she wasn’t able to spend any time with him, but that’s the way it had to be. She made it back to the hotel in good time, grateful to have the room to herself. After a quick shower, she got into bed as her phone pinged again.
Dan wrote:
— ’night gorgeous. See you tomorrow. Don’t worry, it’s like riding a bike.—
The butterflies in her stomach were not all about Ms. Wells anymore. Jenna went to sleep thinking about Dan and whether to hack Gail Wells’ computer first or last in the search of her room the following morning.
Jenna woke with the sun the next morning, and she felt the old charge of excitement rush through her as she dressed. She paced, watched the clock, and tried to distract herself with the television news while she waited on Dan’s signal Gail was with him. When it finally came a few minutes before nine, with a one-word text, she was ready.
Jenna dressed in designer jeans, a blue T-shirt with a designer logo, a baseball cap, and sandals. A pair of expensive, large-frame, wraparound sunglasses completed the outfit. She put on her expensive watch with the gold band, looked in the mirror one last time, and decided she looked like any other wealthy guest going out for a walk or to breakfast. Her past with Dan and the years of learning how to blend in were paying off. She took the stairs down to the second floor, with her baseball cap tilted down, being mindful of the cameras.
When Jenna exited the stairwell door two doors down from Room 212, she was holding her room key card out and ready to go into her act when the elevator pinged.
The maid rolled her cart down the hall, right on time.
“Darn keycards.” Jenna spoke in a raised voice.
The maid, a short, round, older lady, looked up from her cart and watched Jenna as she tried the fake keycard again.
Jenna, trying hard to appear non-threatening and desperate, looked at the woman and waved. “Can you help me get in? I’m supposed to meet my sister for breakfast in ten minutes, and I have to go to the bathroom and change first and grab my phone. I think I picked up her room card last night by mistake. She and her husband are in a different hotel. I feel so stupid. My husband is already on the golf course, so I can’t use his.” She put her hands over her face. “Ugh, too much wine last night, and I can’t believe I left my phone in the room.”
The maid looked her over, from her designer sunglasses to her expensive sandals, and pulled out her master keycard and opened the door. “There you go, and I hope your day gets better.”
Jenna pulled a ten-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to the maid. She learned years ago to keep cash in her pocket when going out for her walks in Europe. “Thank you so very much, and again, sorry for the trouble.”
Within seconds, she was inside the room and searching it. She first scanned for any hidden cameras. Everything was neat: one travel bag hanging, one duffel bag on the rack, one laptop on the desk. She put on her gloves and started the detailed search. After going through the closet, she patted down the bags, looking for secret compartments. Then she checked under the bed and between the mattress and box springs. She found nothing helpful. She opened the laptop, careful to note its exact position on the desk. She took a picture of everything in the room.
After two guesses about her password—and only one more left before she was locked out—and before she’d need to resort to more sophisticated methods, she took a deep breath and sat back in the chair. Her skills were just too rusty for the time left to work. If there was more time, she could figure it out, but for now, she might be doomed to fail.
Frustrated, Jenna had an aha! moment. She turned the laptop over and found what she was looking for : catchathief$$, Gail’s password was taped to the bottom of the computer. And then, she was in. Maybe Miss Wells wasn’t that smart, after all. She was shocked at how easy it was. She didn’t fail to appreciate the password’s meaning. “Rookie mistake,” Jenna whispered as she began her computer search.
As she prepared to read the emails, Jenna made herself comfortable in front of the computer. There were two from the Sent file telling a Dave Allen, who she guessed was her boss, about Dan’s arrival in Savannah, and plan to watch him at the senator’s functions. She found another sent that morning, telling him she was meeting Dan for breakfast. She scanned through her folders and found one labeled, The Black Cat—is Back ? Jenna held her breath. The folder contained detailed information about all the robberies across Europe, including some police information that should be classified. There was the information about the red hair found at two of the scenes— a female hair. Jenna could find nothing else they didn’t already know or suspect. She took a photo of the computer screen, closed the file, wiped off the computer keys, desk, door handles, and luggage handles, even though she wore gloves. She was in and out in twenty-three minutes. Still too close . Not like the old days.
After his breakfast meeting with Gail, Dan chanced a quick visit to Jenna’s room, where he found her pacing. Dan looked at her face. “I knew you could do it, Jenna. Like riding a bike.”
“Yes, so you said. Well, it did all come back to me pretty fast except the hacking skills. I guess those skills have died, but I found the password taped under the laptop. Pure luck.”
“We do deserve some luck.” Dan gave her a hug. “Nice work.”
Jenna huffed out a sigh of relief as they sat at the small table by the window. “So, very interesting, the Red Cat is a woman, or at least those red hairs left were female. They have real DNA. Confirming that bit of information was worth the trouble.”
Dan laughed and grabbed a hand full of Jenna’s hair. “You are not stealing jewels across Europe and not telling me, are you?”
Jenna slapped at Dan’s hand. “Not this woman and not funny, at all. Hand out of my hair, please.”
“Oh, come on. Where is your sense of humor? It’s sort of funny. I’m sure the thief’s red hair color is not your lovely red color, anyway.”
“How would you know?”
“Only a guess. I’ll bet the Red Cat’s color is not a real red.”
“You have no idea that almost no women today are sporting their real hair color, Dan.”
“I know your color is real.”
Jenna avoided his gaze and the meaning behind those words and searched for a subject change. “So, what did you find out from your breakfast?”
“Oh yeah, she thinks I’m still in the business, and she would kill to catch me at it here. If she could pin anything on me, she would be due for a huge bonus. I’m not sure she has given up on the idea that I have a partner, either. She will be looking at everyone I spend time with, for sure.”
“But if she is so focused on you that means the real thief will have an advantage.”
Dan shrugged. “Yes and no. With Gail on my trail, she won’t find anything, which clears the way for you to do what you do best.”
“I don’t know, Dan. It’s been years. And what exactly are you talking about me doing?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
“But…” Jenna was interrupted by the ping of a text message. “Oh, Brock is coming back.”
Dan frowned. “What? Back from where?”
“Well, he went to his uncle’s funeral and asked for a week’s leave. So, he’s coming back to be here for the remainder of the party cycle, which is now only the Black-and-White Masked Ball left.”
“That’s just great, Jenna. He’ll mess up everything.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Dan stood and paced back and forth from the door to the bed. “Easy, get rid of him.”
“I can’t do that, Dan. I’ll have to work around him. He’ll be playing golf all day when he is around, anyway. So, it’s only a couple more nights and the one final party.”
“Yes, the nights. How do you plan to keep him busy while you track our thief on the night of the Masked Ball?”
“I’ll—I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
“Really Jenna, can’t you send him packing—now?”
Jenna felt the repressed anger bubble up to the surface; it was like a living thing as she turned. “I realize you have no regard for my personal life, Dan, and you find it easy to walk away from people you care about, but I’m not you.” She felt terrible the second the words left her mouth, but it was too late to take them back. She hung her head, not meeting his gaze.
“Jenna, I—”
“You’d better go now before Gail’s radar finds you here. Or Brock finds you here. And, well, I’m sorry I said that. But it’s not Brock’s fault, and I don’t want to be a bitch about it all.”
Dan smiled. “Yeah, I get it. You want to let him down easy. I forgot you are a kind person. Much better person than me. One thought before I go, and not about Brock, so stop scowling. The thief leaving hair at a crime scene twice tells me he or she might still be learning. Or maybe it’s that she or he is very smart. The question is, was it an accident or was it done on purpose, and could there be two of them?”
Jenna shrugged. “What does either scenario really tell us?”
“Not much—yet. But only because we don’t know the answer to either question, but the questions themselves are important. I’m beginning to think it’s a woman calling the shots and that she has a partner. No seasoned thief, with the kind of skill who can pull off the robberies she or he has done, would leave a hair for DNA. Something doesn’t fit. We need to think about this more.”
Jenna threw up her hands. “I’m not sure that I can think about it anymore.” Jenna watched Dan chew on his bottom lip, his stress habit he picked up from her years before. “Come on, Jenn, yes you can. You have a good mind. We have done this dozens of times, Jenna. Let’s think about this in a different way.”
“You think about it, because I need a break.”
Dan lay back across the end of the bed. “I am thinking about it. That’s about all I can think about. Somebody out there wants to destroy my life. I have to figure this out and soon.”