Cat Burglar in Training

by Shelley Munro

  Chapter Ten

  “What did you get?” I demanded the next morning when I entered the office, where the terrible trio was waiting for me.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Father said.

  “What’s good about it? Thanks to you I have Octopus Beauchamp sniffing after me like a…” I shuddered at the comparison that leapt into my mind.

  “We scooped the pool,” Ben burst out, putting me out of my misery.

  “Plenty for the overdue payment,” Hannah said.

  My indignation left me in a whoosh of exhaled air. I slumped onto the upright eighteenth-century chair and took a moment to savor the small victory. Enough money to make the payment and keep Amber safe.

  “We need to get the jewels and the medals to London. Alistair will sell them on our behalf.”

  “I’m working at a ladies luncheon in Knightsbridge today. I’ll have time to drop them off beforehand. Grace will be pleased,” I said. “She’s developed a liking for exotic travel.”

  Hannah laughed, but Father and Ben were all business today.

  “We have to hurry,” Father said. “Ben and I have to sort out our produce for the market tomorrow morning.”

  “And we want to follow up on a lead we have about the garden thefts.”

  I considered the robberies. “It can’t be easy getting rid of stolen plants and garden statues. Have you looked at the ads in the local newspapers? The online auctions?”

  “Or the notice boards in the shopping centers,” Hannah suggested.

  Ben nodded. “Good idea, that, Charles. We’re checking out the other landscape gardeners in the area. Rumor says there’s a feud between Janet, the McKenzies’ designer, and Carl Johnson from Garden Designs.”

  While I hoped Father and Ben didn’t land themselves knee-deep in trouble, it was good to see the enthusiasm and dedication they were showing for their new direction.

  Hannah interrupted my musing. “Do you have clients for me to check out?”

  “Huh!” Ben snorted. “Clients. That’s a new one. Fat pigeons ready to pluck—”

  “Here,” I said, handing over the list of names. No time for bickering or distaste at the idea of more stealing. Although we’d earned enough to cover the upcoming payment, the next one would fall due before we knew it.

  Father waved a copy of the newspaper at me. “Look,” he said, his voice rich with pride and more than a trace of smugness. “We made the paper.”

  “What?” My heart dive-bombed my ribs in a start of fear. I snatched the paper from him. “We were caught on camera?” I bent my head to read the story Father indicated: Thieves Hit Harlequin Ball. Thieves stole thousands of pounds’ worth of jewelry while owners partied and danced away the night. Police are following several leads.

  “What leads?” I asked in alarm.

  Hannah reached over the table to pat my arm. “Relax. The police always say they’re following leads.” She nodded sagely. “Standard operating procedure.”

  “That’s all right, then,” I said, but privately acknowledged I still had a way to go before the Shadow settled like a second skin. I could see myself remaining jumpy for months to come. Years.

  Father retrieved the paper and scanned the rest of the article. “Emeralds? Ben, we didn’t get emeralds! Or sapphires. It says here the Monkton emeralds were stolen.”

  “Do you think our mystery competitor attended the ball?” Hannah asked.

  We stared at each other uneasily.

  Father slammed the paper on the desk. “That’s exactly what I think, and I don’t like it one bit.”

  I wasn’t keen on the idea either. It was bad enough dodging the cops and security companies without another cat burglar on the prowl.

  Almost two weeks later, Montgomery House, Knightsbridge, London.

  “These are your outfits for the fashion parade. There are two, plus this blue dress is to wear afterward when the models mingle with the guests.”

  I accepted the garments from Josephine Montgomery with a nod, and she moved on to the next model. Jemima was one of the models too. Her presence was the only thing keeping me sane amongst the giggly socialites. The strain of pretending to be one of them all the way through a week’s rehearsal was working on my last nerve.

  I joined the group who’d received their outfits.

  “What are you waiting for?” Josephine Montgomery boomed above the feminine chatter. “Try the outfits on. If anything doesn’t fit come to see me or Tina here.” She pointed to her hovering assistant. The poor girl acted as if she thought Josephine would bite. Josephine scowled. Maybe Tina was right to worry.

  “Come on,” Jemima said. “We’d better hurry or the old girl will burst a saline implant.”

  I tried valiantly to restrain my smirk and failed. Jemima owned a wicked tongue.

  We found a clear space and set our clothes down. As had become my habit, my gaze surfed the surrounding area, taking in the objets d’art—the paintings and anything remotely valuable that appeared portable. I skimmed the family portraits without registering at first. My gaze slammed to a screeching halt, and I returned to study them closely.

  “Better hurry up,” Jemima warned. “Jo-Jo is looking this way. She’s frowning. She’s heading over.”

  “Lady Evelyn!”

  I almost leapt out of my shoes at the booming shout right behind me.

  “Told ya,” Jemima said, scrambling into a suit that looked a size too small for her.

  Feeling as if I were back at school with one of the nuns, I slowly turned. Cripes! Josephine Montgomery was a fearsome sight in full sail. Compared to her, life as the Shadow was easy peasy.

  Summoning up a chirpy smile I said, “Is something wrong?”

  “The fashion parade is this week. Not next month.”

  “I was just coming to see either you or Tina.” My heart knocked against my ribs as I handed her a garment still enclosed in plastic. “This won’t fit me. Besides, this is so not my color.”

  Josephine grabbed the bright yellow dress to check the label. “This dress is for Evelyn Walters,” she said in an accusing voice, turning her wrath on her assistant. “You’ve given her the wrong outfit.”

  “And the wrong color,” I chirped, deciding to go for broke.

  “Find the right dresses,” Josephine boomed again.

  I swear every one of the models jumped and moved a tad faster. Plastic garment wrappers crinkled, fabrics rustled, and chatter ceased as Josephine Montgomery strode up and down the room issuing orders like a sergeant-major.

  “Come with me,” Tina said. I noticed she had a strange eye that seemed to look over my shoulder instead of matching the direction of the other one. Weird, the way the single eye gazed at me. I regretted landing her in trouble.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Josephine makes me nervous. I chatter when I’m anxious. Can I help you look for my garments?”

  Her smile lit up her face. “She makes me nervous too.”

  I attempted to put her at ease. Her job was difficult enough without prima donnas. “Nice portraits,” I said in an undertone, unwilling to risk Josephine’s wrath again. But I didn’t see why I couldn’t take advantage and do some investigating. My lack of progress was making me irritable.

  “They are, aren’t they? The photographer has a real gift for bringing out the best in his subjects. I was really pleased with them.”

  “Do you live here?” I asked in surprise.

  “Josephine is my aunt.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed.”

  We exchanged grimaces.

  “So who’s the photographer?” I held my breath and waited for the info that would lead me one step closer to closure. “I’m sure I’ve seen other photos he’s taken. I recognize the beach ball and bucket and spade he uses as props.”

  “Jasper Cooney. He has studios in Chelsea. He’s expensive and you have to book ahead, but it’s well worth the wait. I didn’t think anyone would manage to keep my niece and nephew still long en
ough to take photos.”

  If I hadn’t been aware of Josephine Montgomery in the background I’d have pumped my fist in the air and whooped. Instead, I grabbed Tina by the forearm and squeezed it with gratitude.

  “Thanks for the info. I hope I can book in Amber. A photo would make a great Christmas present for my father.”

  “Tina!”

  “Oops, we’d better hurry.” Tina cast an alarmed glance over her shoulder. “I think that’s the other Evelyn over there. Let’s hope she has your outfits.”

  A few minutes later, I gaped at my assigned outfits in shocked horror. “Can I have the yellow dress back?” I asked in a faint voice.

  “I know,” Tina said. “There’s not much to cover you, but at least it’s your color.”

  My gaze shot to her face. Although her face remained innocent, her words sure as hell weren’t. My complaint had zapped back to bite me on the bum.

  “All right.” I knew when I was beaten. “I’d better try this…ah…” I picked up the minuscule piece of froth and stared, at a loss, “…thing,” I decided finally. I squeezed into a space between two girls I didn’t know and dumped my stash of clothes on a chair.

  “Are your clothes as bad as mine?” The brunette to my right grimaced at the ceiling.

  “Worse,” I said eying the scraps of red fabric making up the bodice of my dress.

  “I wouldn’t even wear mine to garden,” my other neighbor said.

  “But you’d blend,” the brunette quipped.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you like gardening?” I’d never enjoyed the digging and weeding, the backbreaking work required to make a garden bloom. There was always a chance they knew something about the plant thefts. Father and Ben had struck out so far.

  The brunette shrugged. “Not really.”

  “It’s hell on the fingernails even with gloves,” her friend said.

  Well, there went that brainwave.

  “Aren’t you changed yet?” Josephine Montgomery hollered with impatience.

  The girls and I erupted in a flurry of activity. Thankfully my bruises had faded because the red dress fit like a second skin. In the crowded room, we jostled for space, tugged hems, and assembled acceptable hairstyles in preparation for our rehearsal stint on the catwalk. Several stints, in my case. I glared at my next outfit, a bikini that consisted of tiny triangles and bits of string. I had no idea what I’d done to Josephine Montgomery, but it certainly seemed as if she intended to make me suffer excruciating embarrassment. Judging by its miniscule amount of material, the blue dress wasn’t going to be much better.

  “Line up, girls. I want to see the outfits properly.”

  Dutifully, we lined up like a platoon of soldiers on parade. Josephine was the sergeant-major inspecting her troops. She stalked the line with narrowed eyes, stopping every now and then to tweak fabric into submission or lambaste the poor girl she’d halted in front of. Suddenly, it was my turn.

  “Lady Evelyn,” she snapped. “The bra will have to go.”

  The bra was the only thing keeping me decent. “My boobs will hang out,” I said, making an effort to keep my voice low and reasonable.

  “Off with the bra.” She uttered the instruction in much the tone I imagined King Henry the Eighth would have said, “Off with her head.” Her set face told me I wouldn’t win. “I want nothing to detract from the diamonds the Marconeys are lending us.”

  Jewels? My ears pricked before I wilted inside. I could hardly steal the jewels for which I was responsible. No prize for guessing who the cops would come after first.

  The night of the fashion parade arrived way too soon for Josephine Montgomery’s liking. According to her, we had less coordination than children learning to use stilts.

  Personally, I couldn’t wait for the whole thing to end. The red dress filled my nightmares, both waking and sleeping, because sans bra it was downright indecent. The blue dress was just as bad, and I didn’t even want to begin thinking about the itty-bitty green bikini.

  I tugged at the offending bodice, trying to stretch the material. “That diamond is going to need to be plenty big to hide my charms,” I complained to Jemima.

  “Your charms are gonna be flaunted, not hidden.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Up ahead, Josephine Montgomery was summoning those she’d bestowed with the honor of wearing jewels. Honor. Huh! That was a joke. I ambled forward with the rest of the chosen girls, feeling a bit like a thoroughbred horse on sale day.

  “Perhaps the audience will consist of only women,” I said, hope in my heart.

  “I don’t think so,” one of the girls standing beside me said. “My boyfriend is attending. I know my mother was trying to get my brother to come along.”

  “Great.” My smile was as false as the woman’s boobs.

  She studied me with an assessing eye. “You know, you look like my brother’s type. Would you like me to fix you up with him?”

  Did I look desperate? “Thanks, but I have a man.” Thankfully, I arrived at the head of the line and my thoughts and eyes were directed elsewhere.

  The diamond was huge. I heard a soft gasp and realized the sound had come from me.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” The small man standing at the head of the line with Josephine Montgomery beamed like a proud papa.

  I studied the sparkling facets of the diamond, the color and size, and nodded. Man, I’d bet this puppy would put a sizable dent in our debt. I sighed. If it went missing, they’d lock me up so quickly my feet wouldn’t touch the ground. Still, the temptation to lift the jewel simmered through me with painful intensity. The itching in my palm stopped me short. I was starting to think like the damned Shadow.

  Now there was a scary thought.

  The diamond felt cool as it settled between my exposed—mostly exposed—breasts.

  “This is our most prized jewel so you’ll have an escort for the evening,” Josephine said.

  Great. Not only did I have to prance around looking like an expensive prostitute, I got to have my own personal guard, which put a right crimp in my plans to scope out jewels worn by the well-heeled guests.

  “I hope he’s intending to protect me as well as the jewels,” I said.

  A tall, well-built man wearing evening clothes stepped up to my side. To the man’s credit, he kept his gaze at face level. Perhaps I’d reserve judgment.

  Josephine clapped her hands and hush fell over the changing room. “Girls, your escorts will meet you when the parade is finished and it’s time to mingle with the guests. All right. Places, everyone.”

  The excitement level ratcheted upward while a corresponding herd of butterflies stomped around inside my stomach. The opening notes of a pulsating rock ballad blasted through the room. In the room next door to the ballroom, we took our places.

  Josephine stood by the door that led to our makeshift runway. “Right. One…two…and go.”

  Oohs and aahs from the crowd floated backstage. I stood fifth in line.

  “Don’t forget to smile, girls!”

  My turn arrived, and I sashayed out onto the runway. A piercing whistle rent the room, audible even over the music.

  “I want one of those!”

  Blonde bimbo. Blonde bimbo. My smile blazed wide and bright. By the time I’d paraded from one end of the runway and back, my jaw hurt from the fixed smile. One outfit down. One more to go. I stepped off the runway and hurried away to change into my bikini for the swimwear parade.

  “Thank goodness that’s over,” Jemima said. “Remind me to never ever let myself be talked into a charity do again. Please.”

  “At least you don’t have to run around for the rest of the night half-dressed,” I said, busy scrambling into the blue dress. The fabric slid over my head with a faint whisper and settled into place. Once I’d fastened the side zip, I tugged on the bodice and scowled.

  “Stop complaining and go mingle.” A cheeky grin lit her face. “You have a diamond to display.”
<
br />   The crowd who stayed for drinks and canapés were well behaved. At first, my silent security escort kept them at bay. At first. Plied with alcohol and only tiny morsels of food to soak it up, the men became more vocal, more pushy, more everything. Octopus Beauchamp led the baying pack.

  “Nice…diamond,” he said, his piggy eyes lingering over my exposed flesh. I suppressed a shudder.

  “Only two hundred and fifty thousand pounds from Mahoneys,” I said.

  “Do you come with the diamond?” one of the wits asked.

  “No,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’ll need to discuss the details with the people from Mahoneys.”

  “That’s enough, Lady Evelyn. You’re meant to circulate,” Josephine called across the Montgomery ballroom.

  My escort offered a smile of sympathy and offered his arm. “Let’s keep moving,” he suggested in a low voice. “We’ll only stop if there’s a woman present with her husband.” Once again, his gaze remained on my face, and I was grateful for his gentlemanly manners.

  We paraded the length of the ballroom and back to show off the diamond and entice people to buy. The other girls who were modeling jewelry were receiving about the same amount of attention. Two hours later, sick of having my bottom pinched and my breasts ogled, I handed over the diamond with alacrity and changed into my own clothes. Judging by tonight’s attendance and interest, I’d say the Wishes charity stood to receive a hefty chunk of sales commission along with a slice of the ticket sales. At least something good would come from my half-naked parade.

  Chapter Eleven

  As usual, I stayed the night in Seth’s Knightsbridge flat after the fashion parade. Seth arrived home midmorning looking tired but happy, his blond hair standing up in spikes. He was clutching a pot with some kind of frilly green plant in it.

  “Didn’t you comb your hair this morning?”

  Seth placed the plant on the bench and dropped onto the wooden chair next to me. I inhaled a breath of spicy aftershave when he pressed a kiss to my cheek. “It’s windy outside.”