Dealing Double Page 19

  “No.” She slowly shook her head. “That’s just a side benefit. My dad’s really here to capture Dean alive. Make him confess so I don’t take the fall. Garza’s men have Dean locked down tight. My father is just waiting for his chance to grab Dean, and then he said I have to go home, too. He won’t risk my life anymore.”

  “But he needed you to stay involved to keep tabs on Dean. Because Dean is still communicating with you through Will.”

  “Right.” The defeat on Gabby’s expression just made Jake more determined.

  He officially hated that bastard Dean. But wanted him alive now, too. “Did the police interview you before you left DC?”

  “Yes, the next morning after the theft.” She groaned and laid her head on her folded arms. “I told them how everything worked there, the procedures we take when we work on artifacts, who has access and who doesn’t, and even where I thought the holes were in the system so that someone could steal something. Worse, I don’t have an alibi, Jake. I went home that night of the theft, watched some TV, and went to bed. This makes me sick.”

  He crossed the room, sat by her again, then took her hand. “You have guards who know you were at home all night. They can testify.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “They can’t testify. Not with fake credentials that might not hold up to that kind of scrutiny. These guys are loyal to my father because he helped them stay out of jail. I’m screwed if Dean did a good enough job framing me.”

  He wiped a tear away that had tracked down her cheek. “We’ll just have to stay a step ahead of Dean. By getting both statues back while keeping that jackass alive.” How, he wasn’t sure. But he’d figure it out.

  “Thank you.” Gabby forced a small smile as she slowly rose from her chair. “But I can’t let my father kill Pablo. As far as I know, my father hasn’t committed a crime since my mom died. Breaking that streak and killing Pablo Garza won’t bring back my family. And it could land my father in jail. Revenge isn’t worth my father’s freedom. I need to talk to my dad. Be right back.”

  After she had gone upstairs, he took out his phone and made a note of her e-mail log-in.

  He glanced at the computer beside him, sorely tempted to e-mail and ask Gabby’s father to intervene for her own safety. Insist she leave and let him sort things out in ways they couldn’t legally do. But maybe he’d wait and see how their phone call went first. Maybe her father had told her the whole story so she’d go home and be safe. Back to her life as a prisoner in DC.

  He hated that idea about as much as he hated the danger she was in of possibly going to jail for something she didn’t do. Could he trust that justice would prevail? The system wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t willing to let Gabby be a victim of that imperfection if he could help it.

  Going home wasn’t the answer anymore. Staying and helping the British police retrieve the statues was the best way to ensure Gabby was cleared. A confession from Dean wouldn’t hurt, either.

  Maybe they could use Dean’s greed against him. He sent Gabby a text.

  Ask your dad if he knows how much Garza said he’d pay Dean for the statues.

  He stood and paced the thickly carpeted hallway and then the living room, waving people away who kept asking if he needed anything, as a plan formed in his head. The cops outside had said they’d agreed to give Charlie some leeway in exchange for finding the Son statue for them. It’d be easier for Charlie to hand it over to them, in exchange for dropping an outstanding misdemeanor charge against him, than chase it down themselves.

  Maybe there was a way to use Will’s phone, and Charlie, to save Dean after all. He’d run his plan by the cops outside so they could all work together.

  If anyone would’ve asked him a week ago if he’d ever dream of conspiring with a mobster and an art thief to save a woman he’d met only days before, he would have called them crazy. Maybe it’d been fortuitous timing that he’d been temporarily relieved of his badge. What he was planning might entail coloring outside a few lines.

  Gabby hung up from a forty-five-minute call with her father and then dropped onto the side of the bed. She’d let her dad have it for keeping her in the dark for so long. He’d apologized but still wanted his revenge on Garza. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get the chance to take it.

  Her father had reminded her he was nearby if she needed him. If she found herself in trouble, all she had to do was text the word she’d known since she’d been old enough to speak. But she wasn’t foolish enough to think her father wouldn’t have people following her around London.

  She went downstairs and found Charlie and Jake deep in conversation in the living room. Jake sat on the couch, while Charlie, dressed in dark clothing now, sat across from him, sipping a drink. It was after midnight, but she was still on New Mexico time, wired with adrenaline.

  She sat next to Jake on the soft, satiny fabric. It surprised her when he reached out and took her hand. Then, while he and Charlie talked about art auctions, he ran his thumb back and forth in a comforting pattern. She could use a little comfort. God knows she didn’t get much from her stubborn and upset father.

  Will’s phone dinged in her back pocket, so she dug it out with her free hand. “It’s a text from Dean. He’s asking if we’ve made any progress with the map.” She glanced Jake’s way. “Will must not have told him we think we know where the statue is. Let’s hope he’s really on a plane home and won’t give us away.”

  “Taken care of.” Charlie took a long drink. “I personally placed him on my plane. With Wi-Fi turned off. We have a few hours before he’ll get a chance to check in. He said I could have the map he found, by the way.”

  Gabby suppressed a grin. That probably wasn’t true and said just for Jake’s sake, but they had bigger problems to tackle. “What should I write back?”

  “We were just discussing that.” Jake squeezed her hand. “Did your father know how much Dean was promised for both statues?”

  “Yeah. Ten million.”

  Charlie laughed. “Those statues together would fetch far more than that in the private sector. And Dean’s ‘friends’ obviously know that, too. Your plan might just work, Jake.”

  “What plan?” Her temper heated again at being left out of the loop.

  Jake gave her a shoulder bump. “The one we were just trying to figure out. Tell Dean we’re making progress but are about to give up for the night. And there might be a way to make some more money for the museum. The art dealer with us is willing to include the shards in his private auction tomorrow and split the proceeds fifty-fifty. Can he slip away with his shard and meet you somewhere? Gabby has hers and is on board if your museum gets the profits.”

  Gabby typed it in and hit “Send.” “You’re using the shard as a code word for the statues, right? In case Garza’s men are reading the texts?”

  “Yes. Dean will know we’re really talking about the Father statue. He might see this plan as a way to circumvent his captors.” Charlie finished off his drink, and someone instantly appeared with a fresh one. After he had waved the man away, the server made a silent retreat. “Actually, Jake, I’m not sure Gabs should know the entire plan. She’s a horrific liar.”

  That was kind of true, but she didn’t want to be left out of the plan that directly affected her life. Before she could think of a retort, Jake said, “I’m still not sure I want to use Gabby as bait to lure Dean out of the shadows.”

  Bait?

  “Wait. What are we thinking?” The phone dinged again, and she read the screen. “Dean says how much?”

  Charlie smiled. “Seems Dean is a greedy man or just a wanker. Tell him twenty million. Maybe more. But both shards have to be together or no deal.”

  She typed it in, then said, “What’s next?”

  Jake answered, “We’re assuming Dean and his friends are nearby and hoping to hear from Will when we head out to get the Son statue. So they can take it after we find it.”

  That made some sense. Before she could reply, Will’s phone chimed again. She read t
he screen. “Tell Gabby I’ll meet her with the shard tomorrow. Where and when?”

  Jake’s jaw clenched. “Dean has either told his buddies it’d be a good idea to grab Gabby because she’s the most likely to find the statue, or he’s going to give his friends the slip. I wish I knew which it was. There’s only one way to find out, unfortunately. And I don’t like it.”

  “Here, Gabby. Type this in. The police asked that we meet here.” Charlie handed over a piece of paper with the location and time. “I’ll just go find something else to do for the next few awkward moments between you two.”

  She turned to Jake. “Why is it going to get awkward?”

  Jake pointed to the phone. “First, type that in, please. And then say Will’s bunking with us tonight to keep an eye on things.”

  She typed it all in. “Done. So, what’s the plan?”

  “After weighing the danger to you, and because I don’t want you to get shot at, Charlie will do the actual digging up of the statue tonight, and then—”

  “Nope.” She crossed her arms. “I’m doing the digging. I didn’t come all this way—”

  “I know you want to be the one to find that damned thing.” Jake laid his hands on her shoulders. “But I can’t let you get hurt. If all goes well tonight, and Charlie finds the statue, we’ll grab Dean and the Father statue at the meeting point tomorrow. And then we’ll be done with all of this.”

  Anger at Jake for giving Charlie the chance to find the statue instead of her warred with her gratitude that he wanted to protect her. “What about the part where I’m bait?”

  “Still working on the details. I’m going to coordinate with the cops, make sure you’re safe, or we find another way. I’m worried about you meeting Dean, though, and want to discuss some options with you in the morning. But let’s see if we can find the Son statue first. Then we’ll talk about the next step.”

  She hated not being the one to find that damned statue, but she didn’t particularly want to be shot at, either. “Should I tell my dad the plan?”

  “Yes. Everything. Tell him to be around for backup. Especially if guns come out, remind him Dean has to be safe.”

  “He’ll keep Dean safe. For me. But you have to promise you won’t turn him in to the cops, Jake.”

  He nodded. “I promise. Just for tomorrow. After that, all bets are off.”

  “Deal.” She went to the dining room and found her laptop. After she had written to her father, she returned to the living room, where Jake stood staring into the dying embers in the fireplace.

  She hated that Charlie was about to risk his life for her. Moving behind Jake, she wrapped him up in a hug. “Maybe I could help Charlie from a distance. I’m an expert shot.”

  He laid his hands over hers. “You already admitted you’d never shoot anyone.”

  “That was before. I could if I thought you or Charlie were in danger. Please let me help.”

  He took a hand and led her toward the stairs. “You can help right now. Charlie just slipped out the back. On foot. He’s going to dig up our little friend and then hand it over to the police. If that map was right. Meanwhile, you and I are going upstairs to go to bed. We’ll be sure to draw the curtains closed so everyone out there watching us will see we’re still here.”

  She stopped in her tracks and tugged his hand. “You sent Charlie out there alone?”

  “He insisted he knew how to steal a statue. I don’t want to know why. Let’s try to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

  Jake was right. Charlie could take care of himself. She followed Jake into the bedroom, and then they made a big production of closing the curtains together. After they had been drawn, she slid to the side of the bed to take off her shoes. “You realize you just sent a thief to get something worth a small fortune, don’t you?”

  Jake stripped down to his boxers and pulled the covers back. “I think the map he stole—vital evidence for this case I might add—will keep his thieving hands satisfied for the moment, don’t you?” He patted the sheets beside him.

  “I’m pleading the fifth.” She stripped and then joined him, hoping to take his mind off Charlie and focus on her. “Speaking of being satisfied, you could help a girl out.”

  “That so?” He drew her against him. “You need a hot cup of tea or something?”

  “No. But maybe those lovely big hands of yours all over my body could do the trick.” She snuggled closer.

  “Your snotty British accent is back.” He ran his hand lightly up and down her bare back. Giving her comfort and the shivers at the same time. “Are you scared about tomorrow?”

  “I’m a bit worried.” She was more scared of falling even more in love with him. She switched to her most American voice. “How about a little distraction, cowboy?”

  His lips slowly tilted. “Have I mentioned how much the snotty Brit voice turns me on?”

  “Really?” With her best exaggerated English accent, she said, “So shall we try making love together this time? Instead of at opposite ends of one another?”

  “Mmmmm. Very hot.” He rolled on top of her, trapping her under his delicious body weight. “Anything you’d like. You’re the boss, Gabby.”

  She snorted. “Hardly. You’re the bossy one. Not me.” And she hated that she liked it in bed. Outside the bedroom, not so much.

  He kissed her neck, and then her collarbone. “Feel free to make suggestions as we go.” His hand covered her breast and lightly squeezed. It made her back arch for more.

  “Carry on. You’re doing just fine, thank you.” She ran her hands over his scarred back, through his thick hair, and then took his face in her hands and kissed him. Hard. When he stayed on top of her and kissed her back, she sighed. Progress. At last. They were going to make love together this time.

  He went back to caressing her neck with kisses, so she closed her eyes and let the sweet sensations sweep her away to that new place Jake took her. Then she indulged in a silly fantasy that she could be with him like this forever. Even though it’d be impossible—her father was a criminal, and Jake was a cop—she’d pretend and enjoy him while she could.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jake paced the lavish master bedroom, with its deep carpet and antique four-poster, where matronly, heavyset Detective Inspector Edwards, the head of the operation, prepped Gabby for the meeting with Dean. She’d run Gabby’s wires under her first layer of clothes and tested her equipment while giving her basic instructions. Luckily it was cold outside, so all the layers would hide the electronics.

  Charlie had texted earlier that he had turned the Son statue over to the police. It’d be returned to its rightful owners. So half the problem had been solved. Hopefully, Dean would show up with the Father statue as planned. Then the police would arrest him and Garza’s men, and the Father statue could go back to DC where it belonged.

  He’d promised Gabby he wouldn’t mention her father’s presence to the detective, as much as it went against his grain. But Moretti hadn’t done anything except look out for his daughter so far, so he’d concede there. If Gabby’s father killed Garza’s son, Pablo, then things with Gabby would get a whole lot more complicated.

  The policewoman left to retrieve glasses with a built-in camera, so Jake adjusted Gabby’s Kevlar vest and then checked her audio one last time himself. He couldn’t let anything go wrong. The British police had all been accommodating and professional, but he still had a bad feeling about the meeting between Gabby and Dean.

  He asked, “Vest feel okay?”

  Gabby nodded. “It’s bulky. But not too bad.”

  “Good.” Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Or, maybe it was because he’d never used someone he cared about as bait.

  The detective might be back any second, so he grabbed the gun he’d taken from Will and stuffed it into her backpack. “Let’s keep this on the down low. How are your self-defense skills?” Weapons weren’t all she might need. Especially if Dean tried to kidnap Gabby. A
t least she had some height on the guy.

  She glanced up at him. “I have a black belt in karate. But I’ve never had to use it other than on sparring partners.”

  One more surprising fact about her.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and twisted her in front of him, his forearm across her chest, a tight grip on her right upper arm, leaving his “weapon” hand free. He poked a finger against her forehead. The most common hold a gunman taking a hostage assumed. “How would you get out of this?”

  In the blink of an eye, her hand slapped his away from her head at the same time that her foot wrapped around his leg and tugged, upsetting his balance. With both hands on his forearm, she sent him flying over her shoulder. He landed with a thump on his back. Before he could roll over, she stepped on his wrist with the heavy boots they’d dressed her in, to secure his “weapon.” And then she dropped her knee to his chest, making the air whoosh from his lungs, to hold him in place. It made him damn proud.

  She leaned down and laid a quick kiss on his lips. “Feel better now?”

  “No. That hurt. Maybe if you’d kiss me again, I’d feel better.”

  Gabby’s dimples flashed as she moved her sharp knee off his chest and then obliged him. Her kisses always held a blend of sweetness and heat he’d come to crave. And when they’d made love earlier, something new had pulled at his gut and heart simultaneously. His usual need to be in charge of the touching when in bed was easy to set aside with her. Instead, he’d wanted to please her and, in doing so, had been sated, too. And relaxed enough to hold her afterward. Something he’d rarely done even while married. How was he ever going to let Gabby go once they got back home?

  She slowly ended their kiss, then jumped up and held out a hand to help him. He stood and wrapped her in a hug. “Do what you have to do to defend yourself, okay? Even if that means shooting someone. Promise?”

  She moved her mouth near his ear, her warm breath sending a whole new spike of desire straight to his gut. “I’ll try. But I’m glad to know the cops, you, and my father are going to be nearby. My own personal army. Which reminds me . . .” She took her cell from her back pocket and typed “Benji” into a text box but didn’t hit “Send.” “I need to have this ready just in case.”