B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart

by A Thief At Heart (lit)

  Riley found herself grinning as she snuggled into her covers, but that sense of peace was not to last. She woke again around four to the sounds of shrill exclamations in a familiar female voice. She was swearing, foul words, turning the air blue. The poodles had started to yip and scratch.

  This time Riley didn’t hesitate. She flung on her robe and headed out into the hallway. It was Belinda this time. She never came up on this floor. She’d been in Mary’s room. Mary’s door was open. “Belinda? What are you doing?”

  Riley hadn’t thought about Belinda’s whereabouts tonight. The girl often spent weekends with her friends partying. Riley wrinkled her nose as the girl walked toward her, swaggering with the aplomb of someone who knew her vaulted place in the world: Belinda smelled strongly of expensive perfume and cigarettes.

  She rested her French-manicured hands on her sleek hips. “What are you doing home, Jane? The Bentley wasn’t in the garage. Where’s my grandmother?” she demanded.

  Riley hesitated. “She’s not here tonight, as you can see. What are you doing in here?”

  “The dogs were barking. I was checking on them.”

  As if. What did she think? That Riley had just fallen off the turnip truck?

  “Why don’t you go to bed, Jane?” the girl said.

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on here.”

  She shook her head. Shiny blonde curls bounced around like in a shampoo commercial. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.”

  “I think you do.” She moved into Mary’s room. Stuff spilled out of the bathroom drawers and the dresser by the window. What was that on the bed? She’d spilled Mary’s Halcion pills all over the silk spread. Was that what this was about? Borrowing prescription medication?

  “I need to get Gram’s keys to Daddy’s office.”

  “So you ransacked her bathroom?”

  “She loses her keys everywhere. I know you have her spares. Why don’t you just give the keys to me and we’ll call it a night.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Oh, really?” she asked in a very good imitation of a belly-pierced diva. “And why not?”

  Riley walked to the bed and calmly scooped the spilled sleeping pills back into the bottle. “I can’t let you into Blake’s office. That room is on an alarm system anyway. You’ll have to talk to Mary about it when she gets back. What’s so important that it can’t wait for Mary to come back?”

  “If it’s any business of yours, I need to look for something. Something my father promised I could have before he died. My grandmother hasn’t given it to me yet. She’s been weird about that. About my touching my daddy’s stuff.”

  “I know that. She’s upset and still grieving. Can’t it wait? I assume this isn’t something that just came up.”

  She lifted her chin huffily. “I want it now.”

  “If you tell me what it is I can ask her in the mor--”

  Belinda glared at Riley petulantly. “If you must know, it’s a piece of jewelry that belonged to my other grandmother and I want it now. It has nothing to do with Mary. It’s mine and I want it.”

  “I’m sorry, Belinda. I can’t go against Mary’s wishes,” Riley said.

  An angry look marred Belinda’s pretty looks. “Why don’t you get that stick out of your butt, Jane? Maybe if you had a man in your life you’d stop obsessing about my pleasing my grandmother. What are you anyway? Old spinsters like you need to get a life.”

  What was it with these two? Belinda and Todd. Otherwise known as Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber. Riley amended that second moniker to Tweedle Mean.

  Belinda swore under her breath. “Have you seen Todd tonight?”

  “No,” Riley lied. “I heard his car. I assume he went to his apartment.”

  She nodded, saying nothing. That was the first time she’d ever heard the girl inquire about her brother’s whereabouts, despite what Mary had told her the other day. They had one of those sibling rivalry things going on. Daddy Blake had obviously liked Belinda best. That whole thing drove Mary to distraction sometimes.

  Riley could swear she smelled pot as the girl leaned closer. Wasn’t it thought that the stuff was supposed to make one mellower? “Maybe you could fill me in on something.”

  “Try me.”

  “Who’s the man my grandmother was yakking incessantly about at breakfast this morning?”

  “I believe you’ve met Mr. Murphy. Robert. At that party on Friday night,” Riley said tersely. “He told me you’d met.”

  “What? Really? He told you that?”

  “He spoke to me for a minute or so.”

  “What does he look like?”

  Against her better judgment, Riley described him briefly. “He’s good looking. He said that he danced with you.”

  “Tall, dead sexy body, dark eyes and hair. Broken nose sort of like Mel Gibson’s?”

  “I think that’s him.”

  Belinda laughed. “I noticed that guy.”

  “You’d have to be dead from the tits down not to,” Riley mumbled, before she could bite the words back. Why did she hate hearing Rob’s description coming out of those bee-stung, painted lips of Belinda’s?

  “Do you think he’s hot, Jane?” teased Belinda.

  “That doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, does it?”

  Belinda laughed. “What does Gram’s toy boy do? Surely you’ve ferreted out that information already?”

  “Insurance. Family owned.”

  Belinda rolled her eyes. “Boring. But maybe he’s a good lover. You know what they say about men with big feet. I think that I noticed that while we were dancing.” She lifted a creamy shoulder and a glittery bra strap fell down. “Robert Murphy might be fun for a lark. I wouldn’t mind doing him. Gram would be pleased. I’ve been slipping from her good graces lately.”

  Riley couldn’t come up with a reply. She was having these disturbing visions of Robert with Belinda. Maybe she should think that way more often. It would put her stupid out-of-control libido back on the right track.

  “I think I’ll keep him in mind. Maybe I’d like to settle down one day soon. Insurance, huh?”

  “Yes. I thought you were seeing someone.” Riley couldn’t help asking. She actually wanted to smack Belinda hard.

  Belinda stiffened suddenly, more reaction than Riley expected. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Your grandmother tells me things. She said you were seeing someone in Europe that your father and she didn’t approve of. An older man. Is that all over?”

  “Since when do you care?”

  “I don’t. I’m making conversation. We rarely talk, do we, Belinda?”

  “I’d prefer to keep it that way. Less gets back to Gran.” She gave a cat-like smile. “Maybe you could get it back to her that I’m interested in this Robbie-hunk. Okay?”

  “I’ll do that,” Riley said.

  “I’ve made you jealous,” Belinda teased.

  “Not hardly. You’ve just made me see a few things I’d never noticed before. It was interesting talking to you. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about these?” She shook the pill bottle.

  “Gran offers them from time to time when I’m wired and can’t sleep.”

  Riley would have to talk about that with Mary. “I’ll mention to Mary, that you were looking for the jewelry, Belinda.”

  “What?”

  “The reason you’ve been in Mary’s room?”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll do that.” Belinda flashed a manufactured smile. “I’m looking forward to getting acquainted with Robbie, Jane. Thanks for the heads up.” With that she turned and sashayed down the hall, leaving Riley to stare after her, wondering if the girl was stupid as a sack of bricks or as smart as a whip.

  Seven

  She hadn’t slept a wink until dawn after Belinda came back. Rob knew that for a fact. Riley was probably as tired as he was, Rob thought, watching her walk down the front steps of Mary’s home. It sure didn’t tell on her, howev
er. He didn’t know what was more impressive: the huge house in daylight, or Riley Jane Turner in a pair of tight, hipster jeans.

  He was choosing the latter.

  Rob lifted Mary’s wheelchair out of the trunk of the car and stifled a groan of misery. His back was killing him. Served him right for spending half the night sitting on a cold slab of marble on the balcony. Otis would laugh, tell him he’d get piles or something.

  It was his fault for brushing that plant pot with his sleeve and making her more edgy than she already was. Twice, she’d skulked out there to check things out, to make sure there wasn’t one of Todd’s creepy visitors lurking in the shadows.

  Rob was still curious to know what had transpired in the conversations between Riley and Todd and later, Belinda. Those two were a couple of spoilt brats who needed their heads clanged together.

  The thought of romancing Belinda was becoming more distasteful every minute. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  He still hadn’t gotten anything back from Otis about the license plate number of the SUV that he’d seen here last night. He doubted the plate would give him any real clues to the visitors. If these guys Todd was meeting worked for Vasco, any information about them in the public system was probably going to be as fake as his own identity.

  Rob tried not to stare at Riley, but it was hard not to let his gaze fall on that two inch strip of her gorgeous, toned belly. He willed himself not to look specifically there, but the stuff above and below was so nice, he didn’t know where the hell to look.

  “Mary? Where’s Brian? Did he forget you?”

  If Brian, the driver, is smart, he’s probably locked in the arms of his girlfriend this cloudy morning, thought Rob. Possibly he was still a little freaked about finding the air out of every tire in the Bentley.

  “The Bentley was vandalized. He called me this morning and said he’d be very late getting to the house,” piped Mary, quite cheerfully. “I called Robert. I wasn’t feeling all that well and I didn’t want to come home in a cab.”

  “Not feeling well? How?”

  “A bit dizzy is all.”

  “You could have called me, Mary,” Riley sputtered.

  “I didn’t want to call you, my dear Jane.”

  Rob bit his cheek at the look that crossed Riley’s face. He picked Mary’s slight body up and set her carefully into the chair.

  “I’ve invited Robbie to spend the day at the house,” Mary said. “Tell Angela that we’ll need a nice substantial lunch. And get that look off your face, will you? You look like a dead guppy.”

  “Angela and Tony are off today. Like usual.”

  “Then you can make us something, Jane. Like usual.” Mary smiled up at Robert. “She’s a fabulous cook, you know. She can make anything. On a moment’s notice with what’s straight out of the pantry.”

  “A regular Martha Stewart,” Rob said, unable to keep the teasing out of his voice.

  Riley rolled her eyes.

  “Angela must have plenty stocked in the pantry,” Mary said. “I fancy a nice quiche. A lovely smoked salmon quiche.”

  “Of course,” Riley said with a frown. “I’ll just whip up a smoked salmon quiche. Do you like quiche?” she asked Rob with saccharin sweetness.

  He smiled. “I hear that’s allowed for males since the eighties. Anything’s fine with me.”

  “I’ll serve you raw pork and Kool-aide then,” she snarled under her breath. “Maybe some week-old sushi.”

  He laughed and Mary looked up at them, eyes dancing. “Did you know that Robert plays bridge, Jane?” Mary said.

  Riley’s eyebrow lifted. “Gee. What a surprise.”

  “Not at all. I’ve been playing for years. I’m quite good at it.”

  “He’s going to give the Sunday afternoon Bridge girls some pointers,” Mary said. “Too bad that’s all we can hope for. Bridge pointers.” She giggled like a schoolgirl.

  “I could go for a little spank and tickle, if I had to, Mary.”

  Mary crowed with laughter over that.

  “Don’t tell me you play shuffleboard, too?” remarked Riley.

  “No. Never liked that game very much. I’m much more proficient at croquet,” Rob said.

  Riley almost grinned at that. He could tell she had to stifle it. She was very good at verbal sparring, but she obviously knew when she’d met her match. He liked that they could be a match.

  “There were a few things I wanted to talk to you about in private, Mary,” Riley told her employer. “About something that happened last night--”

  “I need to talk to you, too. About how you treated Robert after he was so kind to you.”

  Rob didn’t want Mary to know about Todd’s escapades just yet. He wondered how to change the subject.

  “Robert was patronizing me. He assumed I couldn’t take care of myself, Mary. He was all wet, but I’ll forgive him for that.”

  “I was all wet,” he admitted.

  “I don’t want to hear about this now, Jane. We have a gorgeous young man visiting and he seems to have forgiven you for being so ridiculous.”

  “He’s forgiven me?” Riley’s voice squeaked.

  Mary swept her hand in Riley’s direction. “Robert, would you like a beer?”

  “I don’t normally drink this early,”

  “Oh, nonsense. A beer, not a bloody cocktail.”

  “I’d love one. Got some Moosehead?”

  That comment got another snort from Riley. The sound was not quite scornful. More like he’d delighted her against her will. It pleased him unduly and he reminded himself to cool it. He wasn’t here to make her laugh. Next thing he knew he’d be making another pass.

  God, he wanted to make a pass, but Belinda was still an option and he had to remember that getting to Belinda was the way Otis wanted it. He’d already gone against the grain enough in this case.

  If he made a pass at Riley, took her to bed, that was about all it could be. He wasn’t the type of guy who could commit himself to a normal life, make things work in the real world.

  He told himself to be cool, get the job done and he could get out of here, get back to the life that had become important to him. He knew well enough that it wasn’t possible for him to have exactly what he wanted in life so he’d take what he could get.

  He began to wheel Mary into the house, usurping Riley’s duties again. He could tell that bothered her. “Have you ever been to Monte Carlo?” Mary asked him.

  “A few times.”

  “It’s been a year for me. I miss it. I’m thinking of going. That would free Jane up for her own vacation time. She has time coming and I’ll have to force her to take it at this rate.”

  “I will, but I--I didn’t know you were thinking of going to Monte Carlo, Mary,” Riley sputtered.

  “I did a lot of thinking last night. I don’t have to tell you everything.”

  “Mary, of course you don’t--”

  “I am weak with hunger, Jane. I didn’t eat enough this morning and that’s bad for my diabetes.” Her tone was testy and Rob almost resented the way she was treating Riley. “Get lunch started as soon as possible.”

  Riley patted Mary’s shoulder. “I’ll go and see to it. But there are a couple of important things I wanted to tell you in private, Mary, after lunch--” She gave Rob a long-suffering look.

  Mary was having none of it. “I’ll talk to you privately later, Jane. I’d like to find out what Robert thought of Monte Carlo while you make lunch. Where did you stay when you were there, dear?”

  He scrambled. He’d been there once, but spent more time in back alleys than in the fancy spots. It had been a strictly in-and-out job. “I stayed in a nice Winebago at a trailer park. With Princess Caroline and the kids.”

  Mary laughed. “What time of year?”

  “Summer. Fall. I don’t think I noticed. She was so beautiful.”

  Riley rolled her eyes as he and Mary talked about Monte Carlo. From the look on Riley’s face she wasn’t quite as taken with his q
uips about Monaco as Mary seemed to be. Maybe he’d misread her reaction to the beer comment. Maybe she was still holding a grudge over that kiss in the car.

  That kiss could have been one hell of a lot longer and hotter.

  “I’m starved, Jane. Do you think there are some crackers in the pantry, too?” he asked Riley as they crossed the grand foyer. There was one of those round marble tables in the middle with a floral arrangement that would rival anything at Windsor Castle. He’d had to avoid it in the dark last night.

  “I’ll go and see. Please stay with Mary.”

  Rob watched her walk away in those damned, hot hipster pants and wondered how he was going to talk Mary into staying around town so he could complete his investigation. He had to get cracking tonight if he wanted to find anything in this house that linked the Connors to Louis Vasco.

  The only drawback to getting this thing wrapped up soon, Rob decided, was going to be saying goodbye to Riley Jane Turner. This time likely forever.

  ~ * ~

  “You’re a great cook,” said Rob from behind her shoulder after Riley had started to wash the pans from the lunch she’d prepared. “Is it pretty hard to make a quiche?” he asked.

  She’d splashed the front of her blouse when he’d spoken, but she told herself to be cool. She’d been standing there at the sink, thinking of how good he looked out of a suit. She liked the way he filled out a pair of jeans--maybe a little too stiff and new looking--and the black polo shirt with a little logo on the chest that showed his well-honed arms.

  He was a sexy man and from the looks of it Belinda was beginning to appreciate that fact. She’d been giggling and flirting with him all through lunch.

  That was part of the reason Riley hadn’t joined them in the dining room. She knew what she was. Servant. Employee. Mary, by her demeanor today, had helped Riley once more to see that.

  “Quiche isn’t hard at all,” she explained. “I lived with a lady who taught me to cook. She could make delicious stuff from nothing. You’re not really in here to talk about food, are you?”

  “Not really. Mary felt a little bad when you wouldn’t sit down at the table with us.”