Jack lifted the sheet of paper she’d been working on, stared at it with pursed lips. ‘You’re pretty good, you know.’
‘Yes, I developed quite the reputation among my school friends.’
He glanced up, his eyes alive with curiosity. ‘You’ll have to tell me about it one day.’
When? At the end of the week he’d be gone and she’d never see him again. There wouldn’t be any cosy nights in, laughing over reminiscences. Not for them.
‘You’re hoping this necklace will reinforce the fact that your father did love her?’
‘Yes.’
He stared at the sundry messages she’d written when copying her father’s handwriting. ‘Men are less verbose than women.’
She leaned towards him. ‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I think you should just sign the card Love, Roland and leave it at that—leave all of this other stuff out.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’
She glanced through the letters her father had sent her and realised Jack was right. Her father had never been demonstrative. At least not in his letters. Pulling the card towards her, she carefully wrote Love, Roland.
‘Utterly authentic,’ Jack said.
‘It seems I’ve developed an unfortunate taste for deception. I’ve made the jeweller swear on all he holds dear that should Barbara contact him he’ll say he was acting on my father’s wishes—that all this was organised months before he died.’
‘You’ve covered all bases?’
She hoped so. ‘All I have to do now is drop this card in at the jeweller’s and the package will be ready for delivery this afternoon.’
He stared at her for a long moment, making the blood pump faster around her body. It took a concerted effort not to fidget.
‘What?’
‘You’re a woman of hidden talents, and at the moment that’s to our advantage.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Can you forge Barbara’s signature as well as you do your father’s?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never tried.’ She’d never had to forge her stepmother’s signature on a permission slip. Not that it had ever really been necessary to forge her father’s either. It had just been easier than asking him—quicker and cleaner. It had saved her from having to look into his face and be confronted anew with his disappointment.
She pushed the thought away and pursed her lips. ‘From memory, though, Barbara’s isn’t a difficult signature.’ Unlike her father’s, which was all bold strokes and angry slashes. ‘I’d have to see it again before...’
She trailed off when he whipped out a form. Barbara’s signature appeared at the bottom.
‘Right...’ She stared at it. After five attempts she had it down pat. ‘How is this going to help us?’
He pulled a key from his pocket and set it on the table. ‘Do you know what this is?’
‘A key, obviously, but I have no idea what it’s supposed to unlock.’
‘A safety deposit box.’
She pulled in a quick breath. ‘Barbara’s?’
He nodded and handed her the appropriate paperwork.
‘Good Lord, Jack! Where on earth did you get this?’
He raised an eyebrow and she held both hands up, palm outwards.
‘You’re right. I don’t want to know.’ She studied the paperwork. ‘This isn’t held at the bank my father did business with.’ Her father had dealt with a bank in the city. This branch was in Chelsea.
‘Do you know anyone who works there?’
She stared at the name of the bank and nodded. ‘Lawrence Gardner—in another branch of the same bank. He’s the father of an old school friend.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Jack, but I can’t ask him to check this safety deposit box. I—’
‘What I’m trying to assess is the likelihood of us running into anyone you know if we were to go to that branch with you posing as Barbara.’
‘I... What? Oh, God! I think I’m going to hyperventilate.’
He didn’t turn a hair. ‘We have two days to reclaim the snuffbox.’
Two days before a police inquiry descended on her head.
Caro swallowed. Barbara might have made a mistake, but she didn’t deserve a police record and jail. ‘You think the snuffbox is in that safety deposit box?’
‘I can’t think where else it’d be.’
‘But...but I don’t even look like Barbara,’ she croaked. Barbara was tall, thin...gorgeous.
‘You’re both blonde.’
‘She’s ash-blonde.’ Caro was a honey-blonde. ‘And her hair is long.’ So were her legs...
‘I can get you a wig. And if you wore one of those sharp little power skirts she fancies, with a twinset and dark glasses...’
‘Those things won’t make me tall and thin.’
‘No, the disguise won’t hold up to close scrutiny,’ he agreed. ‘Not for someone who knows you or her...like this Lawrence Gardner. Would he recognise you?’
‘Oh, that won’t be a problem. He works from the bank’s main office, which is in Knightsbridge.’
Her heart pounded hard.
She stared at him. ‘You believe that if I go in there with this key, the ability to forge Barbara’s signature and a blonde wig that I could pass for her?’
‘Especially if you have some additional ID.’ He handed her a credit card and an ATM card.
She squished her eyes shut. ‘I’m not going to ask...’
‘I’ll have them back to her before she even knows they’re missing.’
She hoped he was right.
‘But, yes, I believe all of those things combined will gain us access to the box...if you dare.’
The way he said it reminded her of the way he’d challenged her on not having fun any more, on being risk averse. She pushed up her chin. She wanted that snuffbox back. She wanted Barbara in the clear. She dragged in a breath. And she wanted to keep her job and her professional reputation.
She folded her arms. Mostly to hide how badly her hands were shaking. ‘When do we do it?’
‘Today.’
Dear Lord!
* * *
Nerves jangled in Caro’s stomach when Jack switched off the car’s engine. She pulled down the sun visor to scrutinise her reflection in the mirror again.
‘You look perfect,’ he assured her.
He’d parked in an underground car park not too far from the bank. He didn’t want to rely on taxis or public transport. He didn’t want them to be seen. Which made her nerves jangle harder.
She pushed the visor back into place. ‘I’ve been thinking. I should go in on my own.’
If she didn’t pull this off then at least Jack wouldn’t get into trouble too. She refused to dwell too deeply on the kind of trouble she could get into if this didn’t go to plan. If she did that she’d freeze.
‘Not a chance, kiddo. I’m in charge of this operation. I’m not sending you in there alone.’
She wanted to weep in relief. Coward.
‘I’m not letting you have all the fun.’
She turned to gape at him. ‘Fun?’
‘You and me—we’re partners in crime.’
‘Fun?’ she repeated. ‘Crime?’
He grinned, exhilaration rippling in the depths of his eyes. ‘Besides, we’re not doing anything wrong. Not really.’
‘Tell that to the judge.’
His grin widened. ‘We don’t want to steal anything. We don’t want to hurt anyone. We just want to right a wrong.’
His words made her feel like a cross between Robin Hood and the Scarlet Pimpernel.
‘To achieve that end we have to pit ourselves against the system—a worthy adversary. Are you going to tell me you’re not experiencing even the tiniest flicker of anticipation?’
‘Adrenaline junkie,’ she accused, but there was no denying the fever that seemed to be working its way through her blood. Keep breathing. ‘Any last instructions?’
‘Do your best to channel Barbara.’
‘That won’t be difficult, darling.’
‘Perfect.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Once inside, try and keep your head down. Stare at your hands or feign preoccupation with the contents of your purse. I don’t want the CCTV cameras getting a good shot of you.’
Dear Lord!
* * *
There were two people ahead of her in the queue, and Caro’s nerves steadied as they waited their turn. The fact that no alarms or sirens had sounded when they’d entered through the bank’s sliding glass doors helped.
She twirled the wedding band Jack had suggested she wear round and round her finger. Her wedding band. She’d taken it off two years after Jack had left. Wearing it again now, she felt as if a missing part of her had been reclaimed. Which was an utterly crazy notion, because the thin circle of gold was nothing more than an empty symbol.
Don’t think about it. Stay in character.
She pursed her lips and tapped her foot. She didn’t watch a lot of thrillers, preferring dramas and comedies, but she did her best to summon a list of kick-ass heroines to mind. There was that Lara Croft Tomb Raider character—she was pretty handy in a tight situation. Oh, and Julia Roberts’s character in Ocean’s Eleven—very suave. They were women who strode out confidently and held their heads high.
She was about to toss her hair and lift her head when she recalled Jack’s strictures to keep her head down. Hmm, on second thoughts they might not be the best archetypes to use as models in this particular situation. Still, she made a resolution to watch more movies with capable, efficient, devil-may-care, thrill-seeking female protagonists. And now that she thought about it, amateur dramatics might be a spot of fun. Maybe she should look into—
‘We’re up.’
She started at Jack’s words, but her preoccupation helped her not only to keep her legs steady, but her voice steady too. ‘Good afternoon,’ she greeted the teller. ‘I’d like to access my security deposit box, please.’
She handed over the paperwork Jack had procured. Heaven only knew when or how he’d done it, but she had visions of him dressed in black, prowling silently through the house in Mayfair.
Mind you, the vision wasn’t without merit...
‘If you’d like to follow me, Mrs Fielding?’
A thrill shot through her. This was working! They were going to get away with it.
‘Certainly,’ she said, following the teller along the length of the counter to a door. This was almost too easy. It occurred to her then that she could become a bit of an adrenaline junkie too.
The teller had started to punch in the door’s code when it opened from the other side and a man strode out. Caro’s heart leapt into her throat. She ducked her head, using Jack’s body as a shield.
Please, please, please...
‘Caro!’
Her heart thundered so hard she thought her whole body must pulse with the force. What on earth was Lawrence doing here?
The teller frowned and glanced down at the paperwork. ‘Caro...?’
Think fast!
‘Lawrence, darling, it’s Barbara.’ She made herself beam. ‘You do that every single time—mix me up with Caro. We’re not even related. It must be the blonde hair.’ She reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘Please don’t give me away...’ she whispered. Throwing herself on her sword was the only option.
He stared at her for a long moment, before taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. ‘That was clumsy of me. How have you been coping since the funeral?’
To Caro’s utter horror she could feel tears start to prick the backs of her eyes. She gave an awkward shrug. ‘Oh...you know.’
‘What are you here for?’
Caro let the teller explain, while she tried to gain control over the pounding of her heart. What on earth was Lawrence doing in Chelsea rather than Knightsbridge?
‘I’ll take care of Ms Fielding,’ Lawrence told his underling.
Caro swallowed a wince at Lawrence’s use of Ms rather than Mrs.
Taking Caro’s arm, he led her and Jack back the way he’d come, not releasing her until they reached an office. He closed the door before swinging back. ‘Caroline Elizabeth Fielding, what on earth do you think you’re playing at?’
She swallowed. ‘Hello, Uncle Lawrence.’
* * *
Uncle Lawrence! Jack closed his eyes. What on earth had he got Caro into?
He cleared his throat and stepped forward. ‘Sir—’
‘Uncle Lawrence, this is my husband, Jack. I don’t believe the two of you ever met.’
As she spoke she led Jack to a chair and pressed him down into it. She squeezed his shoulder briefly—a not so-subtle signal to keep his mouth shut. Jack fully intended on taking the complete blame for whatever trouble was about to rain down on their heads, but he’d let her have her way for the moment. He was curious to see what she’d do.
‘Jack, this is my Uncle Lawrence. It’s an honorary title, of course.’ In the same fashion as she’d led Jack to a chair she now led her ‘honorary uncle’ to the chair on the other side of the desk. ‘He’s my best friend’s father. I spent most of my summers at their house in the Lake District.’
Her best friend? He thought for a moment. ‘Suzie?’
Her eyebrows shot up as she took the seat beside him. ‘You remember her?’
‘Sure I do—the super-smart brunette addicted to Twilight movies and Hobnob biscuits.’
She’d been at their wedding. He frowned, trying hard to remember something else—anything else. If they could soften the father through the daughter...
‘Wasn’t she relocating to Switzerland, to run a department of some trading bank?’
Both Caro and Lawrence laughed. ‘She’s practically running the entire operation now,’ her father said with pride, and Jack gave thanks for the tack Caro had taken.
‘Good for her. I’m glad she’s doing so well.’
‘Well, she is now,’ Caro said. ‘Things were a bit bumpy there for a while, after her second little girl was born. Suzie had postnatal depression, but she’s doing great again now.’ She shot Lawrence a smile. ‘We had a long, slightly wine-fuelled chat the week before last. She’s doing wonderfully. You must be so proud of her.’
‘I am.’ He paused, his eyes keen. ‘You know I’ll always be grateful to you, Caro, for taking leave like you did, to be with her for those first few weeks after she was released from hospital. It made all the difference.’
It struck Jack how much pressure career-minded women who wanted children were put under. Men rarely suffered the same pressures. He eyed Caro now, his lips pursed.
‘It’s what friends do...and godmothers.’
Caro was a godmother?
‘I’d do anything for Suzie and her family. Just as she’d do anything for me and mine.’
That was a masterstroke of emotional manipulation. Jack wanted to shoot to his feet and give her a standing ovation.
‘Caro—’
‘Uncle Lawrence, I find myself in something of a pickle...’
Without further ado Caro told Lawrence the entire story. By the time she finished the older man had taken off his glasses and was rubbing his eyes.
Caro leaned towards him. ‘You have to see that I can’t let Barbara go to jail.’
He pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. ‘Caro, if I take you through to that safety deposit box I will be breaking so many codes of conduct, not to mention laws, that I wouldn’t be able to hold my head up in public and—’
‘I don’t actually want to look inside her safety deposit box.’
Jack swung to her. What on earth...?
From her bag she pulled out a photograph. ‘This is a picture of the missing snuffbox. I don’t want to know what else Barbara is storing in the deposit box—that’s none of my business. But maybe you could check the box to see if that’s there.’ She pressed the photo into his hand. ‘I’m not asking you to remove it—just to see if it’s
there.’
She stared at her Uncle Lawrence with pleading eyes and Jack held his breath right alongside her.
Lawrence stared at them both for several long moments. ‘Do not move from those seats.’
Caro crossed her heart. Without another word, Lawrence rose and left.
Caro turned to Jack, sagging in her seat, her hand pressed to her heart. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t believe he turned up here today of all days.’
Jack shook his head. ‘Not your fault. And this may, in fact, work out better.’
Her shoulders drooped. ‘Except now I’ve involved someone else in my life of crime.’
He meant to say, Nonsense. What came out of his mouth instead was, ‘You’re a godmother?’
A smile suddenly peeked out and he had to catch his breath at the way her face lit up. ‘Twice over. To both of Suzie’s little girls. Would you like to see a picture?’
‘Love to.’
His heart thumped madly when he glanced down at the picture of Caro sitting on a picnic blanket with a toddler in her lap and a baby in her arms. She looked...so happy. His chest twisted. Had he ever made her that happy?
He wanted to make her that happy. He wanted—
He blinked when Lawrence came back into the office. Caro reached across and took the photo from his fingers, flashing it towards Lawrence with an abashed grin before slotting it back into her purse.
They all stared at each other and then Caro shuffled forward to the edge of her chair. If he didn’t know better he’d think she’d started to enjoy all this subterfuge and intrigue.
‘Well?’
Lawrence slumped down in his chair. ‘I didn’t find the snuffbox.’
Damn! Jack’s hands fisted. Had Barbara managed to dispose of it in that half-day before he’d come on the case? He’d had her tailed ever since. He’d had all the guests at the country house party thoroughly investigated, and had come to the conclusion that Barbara hadn’t even taken the snuffbox with her that weekend. Instinct told him she’d gone there to make initial contact with someone. He kept waiting for her to visit one of those guests...or for one of them to turn up at the house in Mayfair. So far, though, there’d been nothing.
‘I did, however, find this.’
Jack snapped back to attention when Lawrence placed a locket on the desk in front of Caro.
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 48
