It Takes a Thief Read online

  "Your safe? It Is not your safe! It is my husband's safe, my safe, and my daughter's safe! It is our house!

  You stole it from us, you thieving son of a – "

  "Oh, for God's sake!" Kelly exploded. "Where's your daughter? Maybe she knows how to talk sense."

  Francesca drew herself up even more stiffly, and her voice dropped suddenly, even and deadly. "You will not touch my baby. You will not enter our house. If you come near us again, I will cut your heart out."

  After a long silence, Kelly said furiously, "This isn't over. I'll get my property back."

  "No," Francesca told him gently. "We will get our property back." She stepped back and slammed the door, locking it with an audible click.

  "Mother?" Jennifer moved forward, shaken by the hatred – and the danger – she had heard in Kelly's voice

  Her mother turned to her, perfectly calm, and held out a small ruby clutch purse. "You left this at the house last night."

  "I'd forgotten all about it." Jennifer took the purse. "No wonder he knew we'd been there. I drove the car partway, so I took my license."

  "He's a horrible worm," Francesca said. But she sounded content, and Jennifer knew it was because her mother had definitely enjoyed the confrontation.

  But Jennifer was worried. She hadn't liked the sound of Kelly's voice; he had sounded both enraged and, curiously, panicky. It was hardly a stable combination Realizing suddenly, she said slowly, "What could have been taken from his safe? That other man . . . perhaps he . . ."

  "What man?" her mother asked curiously.

  "Someone at the party." Jennifer's voice was absent. "And he said something about not wanting anyone to search for missing valuables. But, what was it?"

  "I took nothing that did not belong to me," Francesca stated virtuously.

  Jennifer nodded, again absently. "Yes. Mother, I need to make a few calls, then I may have to drive into town."

  "Fine, my baby. I shall read a book. And tonight, we will have a celebration because I drove that worm from our door."

  Almost wincing, Jennifer reflected that her mother's celebrations tended to be hard on the stomach. Italian or not, Francesca couldn't cook – but refused to stop trying. Still, culinary pursuits kept her mother happily occupied, and Jennifer was willing to put up with whatever was necessary to keep her happy.

  Returning to her studio, Jennifer called a familiar number and smiled as a bright voice answered.

  "Jennifer! I saw you at the party last night. It's a good thing that Kelly person was busy with his poker game in the back parlor. What on earth were you doing there?"

  "Guarding the family silver, Sharon," Jennifer replied lightly.

  "Oh, I've been doing that for you, sweetie. Why else would I go to that awful man's parties?"

  Sharon LaCoss had been Jennifer's best friend all through school, and they were still close. Sharon also knew everyone in the area, and she was infamous for her ability not only to spot a stranger in her orbit, but also to find out exactly who the stranger was within hours.

  "Sharon, I need your help."

  "Just ask," her friend said Instantly.

  "There was a man at the party I've never seen before. Big, dark, very good looking, and he was wearing a cream-colored tux. I have to talk to him."

  "No problem," Sharon said cheerfully. "I'd have had to be blind not to notice that one. He came in with a lovely brunette on his arm; didn't spend too much time with her, though."

  Jennifer felt a pang she refused to acknowledge. "Do you know who he is?"

  "Rick found out for me," Sharon said, referring to her fiancé of two months. "The guy's name is Dane Prescott, and he's staying at a hotel here in Lake Charles. Seems one of Kelly's poker buddies brought him along to the party and introduced him. He's supposed to be some hotshot gambler from Florida, with a lot of bucks."

  "I see."

  Sharon's voice wavered between curiosity and teasing. "If you're worried about the brunette, I'd say there's nothing there but friendship. They acted like buddies, not lovers. No romantic spark, you know?"

  Jennifer bit back an instinctive denial of interest in Dane Prescott as a man, since the truth was a bit too complicated to go into at the moment. "We'll see. Um . . . exactly where is he staying, Sharon?"

  So Sharon told her. Exactly.

  * * *

  The knock on the door caused both men to go still. Skye looked at Dane, and asked softly, "Expecting anyone?"

  "No," Dane replied Just as softly. "No one."

  Skye rose and moved soundlessly across the room toward the bedroom, carrying the counterfeit plate in one hand, and his drink in the other. "I'll wait in there."

  "Right." Dane slid his sketch of Kelly's house off the coffee table and placed it in the top drawer of the desk, then went to the door and looked through the security peephole. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure the bedroom door was closed, then opened this door and stepped back.

  "Hello again, Miss Chantry."

  She came into the suite with a determined stride, and Dane could hardly help being amused as he closed the door behind her and followed her into the sitting room. Today, she was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved blouse, her golden hair swept up casually in a ponytail; she looked younger than last night, but just as lovely and considerably less frightened.

  He had a vivid memory of the way that ruby gown had clung to her every curve, and his body remembered too well those curves pressed against him.

  "What can I do for you?" he asked politely, leaning back against the bar with his arms crossed over his chest.

  "Why were you at Belle Retour last night?" she demanded.

  "There was a party. You may have noticed."

  Her blue eyes took on a glint of anger. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it. What did you take from the safe?"

  "Nothing of yours. Or your mother's."

  She was silent for a moment, staring at him. How much did he know about her and her mother? A great deal, it seemed. Then, slowly, she said, "You took something of Kelly's. Something important."

  Dane raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

  "Because he thinks my mother and I have it. He came to our house a couple of hours ago, demanding we give it back. He threatened my mother. I don't like it when someone threatens my mother." She drew a deep breath. "I'd side with the devil if Kelly were storming hell, but I won't have my mother hurt. So I want to know exactly what you stole from Kelly."

  "Damn," Dane muttered, frowning. He hadn't expected Kelly to blame the theft of the plate on anyone specific. Considering how crowded last night's party had been, anyone could have gotten in and out of the study. But it made sense for him to suspect Jennifer and her mother; that safe hadn't been changed in twenty years, so of course they'd know the combination.

  "What did you take out of the safe?"

  Dane ran a hand around the back of his neck and looked ruefully at her. "I can't answer that, I'm afraid."

  "Why not?"

  "I'm not iIn a good position here," he said. "I certainly don't want Kelly to find out I got into his safe. In fact, that's the last thing I want him to know. So why should I blithely tell you what I took out of that safe?"

  Jennifer saw his point, but she hadn't come here prepared to take no for an answer. She gritted her teeth. "Word has it you came here to play poker with him. I can tell you right now he won't welcome you if I tell him you were in his study last night, and that you had the safe open."

  "What would you gain by doing that?" Dane asked slowly.

  "My mother's safety. Kelly's desperate to get back whatever it was you took. And I don't much care who he's after as long as it isn't my mother or me."

  "Reasonable," Dane agreed dryly. He studied her for a moment in silence. "The grapevine around here is pretty good. What else have you found out about me?"

  "That you're a gambler from Florida with a lot of money to lose. I already knew you were a thief."

  "Just like I knew you wer
e a thief."

  Jennifer stiffened. "I am not! I just – "

  "Appearances," Dane murmured, "can be deceptive. Never assume, Miss Chantry. Or may I call you Jenny?"

  She blinked at him, suddenly doubtful. Was he only a gambler and thief – or was he something more? She didn't know, couldn't be sure. "Nobody calls me Jenny," she said at last.

  "Then I'll be the only one. Good." Before she could respond, he went on calmly. "I've been listening to the grapevine too. And I heard that both you and your mother want Belle Retour back. Also, I understand that you would dearly love to get your hands on a means for revenge against Kelly."

  It was all common knowledge in the area, but Jennifer wasn't happy he knew. "So?"

  He drew a breath and let it out slowly. "So, maybe we can work together."

  "Why should I trust you?"

  "You'll have to decide for yourself about that. All I can tell you is that the prospects are good for Kelly going to jail for a long, long time. And not for cheating at cards."

  "For what?"

  "First," Dane said calmly, "you have to decide whether you trust me."

  "How can I know? Tell me something to convince me."

  Dane grinned. "Well, I could tell you that my heart is pure, but I doubt you'd believe me."

  Ridiculously, Jennifer felt herself torn between giggling and snorting in disbelief. Oh, this man had charm. Why, she felt she could almost pluck it out of the air, like a raindrop. She steeled herself against the appeal of him, remembering the need for revenge against Kelly, remembering her mother, remembering a "lovely brunette." "You're right. I don't believe you."

  He rubbed his nose, looking at her thoughtfully but with those vivid eyes laughing. "I was afraid of that. And I don't suppose swearing on my honor would do any good either?"

  "If I don't know whether you're trustworthy," she pointed out, "then why would I believe you have any honor?"

  He sighed. "That is a point. Look, Jenny, one of us is going to have to trust the other, or we won't get anywhere."

  She lifted her chin. "Then you trust me. Since you seem to know so much about my background, you must have guessed that the bracelet I took last night belonged to either me or my mother. It should be fairly obvious that I have every reason in the world to want to get Garrett Kelly. It's your reasons that are in doubt here."

  Dane sighed again. "All right, dammit. Sit down – we're going to be here for a while. Would you like a drink, coffee?"

  "No, thank you." She sat down a bit gingerly on one end of the long couch, and watched him sit a couple of feet away. And her guard was back up, because something told her this abrupt giving in of his had been expressly designed to win her trust.

  Conversationally, he asked, "Do you know that your eyes turn almost gray when you're suddenly having misgivings about something?"

  Jennifer blinked. "What?"

  "Well, it's obvious you think I'm trying to trick you in some way." He was half turned toward her, one arm along the back of the couch between them. "I'm not that devious, I promise you."

  She reserved judgment on that, trying to ignore the beautiful, long-fingered hand so near her shoulder. "Just tell me what this is all about, all right?"

  "All right." Carefully, Dane began by saying, "I was asked by a friend to check the contents of Kelly's safe. And, before you ask, what I was looking for had nothing to do with valuables; I wanted to find some paper connection between Kelly and another man. Since that has nothing to do with you, and since it isn't my story anyway, you'll have to take that much on faith."

  She accepted that for the moment, but had what seemed to her a pertinent question. "Do your friends often ask you to break into other people's safes?"

  Dane was smiling. "Well, let's just say that sometimes my friends need to know things about people, and I happen to be good at getting information.."

  "By breaking into safes?"

  "Whatever it takes."

  Jennifer felt baffled. This didn't sound like a garden-variety thief or gambler; but then, how many of those had she met? "All right. For now."

  "Suspicious Jenny."

  She wasn't sure she liked the way he said that shortened version of her name. It sounded like a caress. "Just finish the story, would you, please?"

  "Certainly. I didn't find that paper connection I was looking for in the safe. But I did find a plate used to counterfeit hundred-dollar bills."

  She felt her eyes widen. "What?"

  "Interesting, isn't it? A fine, upright citizen like Kelly making his own money. If he is, of course."

  Jennifer was trying to think clearly. "There's a question about that? I mean, why else would he have this . . . this plate?"

  "He could have been holding it for a friend; he could 'have found it himself and be busy blackmailing someone. You see. Jenny, we need two more items to prove Kelly's making money himself. The other plate, because it takes two to print a bill, and the press to do the printing."

  "I see." She mused about that for a moment, then frowned at him. "What's your angle in this?"

  "Justice?" he suggested in the tone of a man who didn't expect to be believed.

  "Try again."

  Dane shrugged. "All right, then. I have a friend in the Treasury Department, and I owe him. After I found the plate last night, I gave him a call. He asked me to try and find those other two items, and to see if I could discover whether Kelly's passing phony money at his poker games. I said I'd do it. I hate debts," he added almost parenthetically.

  Those were the first words he'd said that held a ring of truth for Jennifer. She believed him. Her father had been the same way about debts; she wondered idly if it was a trait peculiar to gamblers. "So what're you planning to do?"

  "The first thing we have to do," he said, "is get the plate back into Kelly's possession without making him suspicious."

  "Is that possible?"

  "It better be. We have to divert suspicion from you and your mother, and at the same time keep it far away from me. As you pointed out, Kelly would hardly invite me into his house if he found out I'd rifled his safe. And I have to be able to come and go at the house, or well never find the evidence to put him away for good."

  Jennifer was quiet for a moment, then said, "I don't suppose this is going to get Belle Retour back for mother?"

  Dane hesitated. "I don't know. But I have to tell you it's doubtful. The plantation was legally transferred into Kelly's name. Chances are, the property's his no matter what happens. There's a slim chance though, that if he were convicted and the government slapped a hefty fine on him as well as a prison term, he would have to sell Belle Retour to raise the money."

  "Couldn't we prove he cheated my father?" Jennifer asked. "A person isn't allowed to profit from crime, and he did!"

  "That's a sticky point to prove in court when it comes to gambling."

  Jennifer had kept her hopes up these last years, convinced that she could do something to restore Belle Retour to the family. Now, for the first time, she realized how impossible a dream that had been. Her home, lost to her. Her promise to her mother, just so many empty words.

  "Damn," she whispered. "We can't get it back. We can never get it back."

  "Yes, you can," Dane said suddenly. "And you will."

  She looked at him, blind for a moment, her eyes full of unexpected tears. "What? How?"

  He smiled an odd, crooked smile. "On that point, you'll again have to trust me. But I promise you, Jenny, before this is over, you'll have Belle Retour back."

  She didn't believe him. But, at the same time, she realized that her only chance of revenge against Kelly lay in helping to find evidence against him for counter-felting. If she could do that, it would be enough. It would have to be enough.

  "Okay. So what do we do?"

  "First, I want you to pay a little visit to Kelly."

  "I hate that man," she said.

  "Good. Make sure he sees it. You're furious with him. He came to your house and threatened your mot
her, all because he thought she took something from his safe. Tell him your mother went nowhere near that study, but you saw other people going in and out all evening. Even one of his security men went in at least three times – you saw him."

  Jennifer was listening intently. "Why am I pointing at the security guard in particular?"

  "He's as good a target as any. Besides, I still have to check on that connection I mentioned. So you be sure and direct Kelly's attention that way. And he'll find the plate hidden in the guard's room."

  "How will – Oh. You'll put it there?"

  "Right. By the way, since Kelly didn't tell you what had been stolen, be careful not to let on that you know."

  "He knows Mother – I got the bracelet."

  Dane didn't appear to notice the slip. "Fine. Go on to him about that – that it was just a lousy bracelet, nothing to make such a fuss over. Really give him hell. How's your temper?"

  She managed a smile. "I'm half Italian. My temper's a force of nature."

  He laughed softly. "Perfect."

  "What happens after he finds the plate, assuming he believes me and searches the guard's room?"

  "Then I go to work trying to find the other plate and the press. It's very likely that it is somewhere in the house, or nearby."

  Jennifer was silent for a moment, then offered, "I could sketch a floor plan for you. It might save time."

  Dane rose and went over to the desk, returning with several blank pieces of hotel stationery and a pencil. He sat down – a bit closer this time – and handed them to her. "Thank you. Jenny," he said quietly.

  She reached for a large hotel menu on the coffee table and slid it under the papers on her lap, then bent her head and began sketching. "I don't know why I'm trusting you." she muttered, half angry. "You'll probably steal everything but the drapes."

  "No, I won't do that."

  She sketched for a few moments, but the silence began to bother her. And she could feel his eyes on her, not laughing now but lit from within as always, like candlelight through fine violet china. Like sunlight through purple clouds, after a storm. "Why did you become a gambler?" she asked abruptly.

  For the first time Dane found that question difficult to answer. And he knew why. Her father had lost her home gambling; she couldn't have a high opinion of that particular form of "recreation." He knew, in fact, that it was his gambling she mistrusted more than his possible talent at stealing.