by Kim Foster
I was a criminal, too. I was part of the underground world that produced people who shot unarmed fifty-nine-year-old women who interrupted their crime-in-progress.
Being a thief was the one thing in the world that made me feel truly special. It was my unique talent in the world, and it made me feel alive. And I had always justified my choice of profession by keeping a set of ethics—my Thief’s Credo. Besides, I was merely playing a role in what I call the Secret Sport of Kings. Stealing one another’s goodies has long been a pastime of the überrich. Right or wrong, it’s part of the fabric of our society.
But now—well, that justification felt rather thin.
“Why would you do it, Mom? Didn’t you think of the danger?”
“No, Catherine. I didn’t.”
I was desperate to understand. Why would she take such a risk? One possibility had occurred to me, and it was gnawing away at my insides. Had she grown overconfident in the past year, because of her involvement in my line of work?
The trouble was, my mom considered herself my business manager, which probably made her feel overconfident, like she was part of the criminal world. I had allowed this little fiction because she seemed to get so much pleasure from it, and it gave her something to do. I imagine she felt like she knew criminals. She understood burglars, and how they worked.
But while I’m aware of the dangers in my chosen profession, I’m not sure if my mother is. Or was. Maybe I hadn’t done enough to warn her of the very real risk. I didn’t routinely carry a firearm, but there were many thieves and criminals who did. Had I neglected to make sure she knew that?
It all added up to one inescapable truth. This incident was my fault.
The world tilted and my head swam as the guilt threatened to overwhelm me. I hadn’t protected my mom from this. I’d let her become involved with my little underworld. It was careless and stupid.
I gazed away from my mother to stare at the bleeping machines next to her, pretending to study the lights and the flow of fluid through the IV tubes.
“There’s something more,” my mother said. A cloud of worry and unhappiness moved across her face.
“It’s okay, Mom, we don’t need to talk about this stuff right now. You need some rest.”
“No. This is important.”
I put my hand on hers. Her skin felt cool, her bones delicate and thin underneath mine.
“When the shot went out, a terribly clichéd thing happened,” she said. “My life flashed before my eyes. And it was a good life, Cat, very good. But there was something missing.”
I had an unpleasant feeling I knew where this was headed.
“It was grandchildren,” she said. “I wanted to see grandchildren there.”
I closed my eyes. This was well-worn territory. Why did she have to bring it up now? I tightened my fists inside my pockets. My mother had almost died—and this was what she was thinking about? My mouth grew thin and hard. It was the last thing I wanted to discuss now.
“I want you to be happy, Catherine,” she said. “You are my only child. And . . . I can’t help feeling that my life will be left incomplete unless I see you happily married and with a gorgeous, healthy baby.” A tear slipped down her face.
In spite of myself, my frown softened, just a little.
“I don’t want you getting all upset about this,” I said, squeezing her papery hand. “Let’s talk about this later. You really should rest.”
She was tired, obviously, because for once she didn’t fight me on this. I settled my mom back down on her pillow and turned off the lights. I went to the window in her room and stared at the streetlights, the brake lights of the cars on the freeway.
Marriage. Children. For the first time, I actually rolled the idea around in my mind. A small ache centered in my chest. Maybe it was something I wanted, too, after all.
Once my mom was breathing steadily, asleep once more, I left the room. In the corridor my father was returning with coffee from the cafeteria.
“Is she asleep?” he asked, handing me a steaming Styrofoam cup. I nodded and we sat on the orange vinyl chairs in the small waiting area for families, and sipped the weak hospital coffee.
We didn’t discuss the details of what had happened. I was afraid of what my dad would say. He was not in favor of my chosen profession. He had learned the truth much later than my mom had, and though she had been on board, he had decidedly not been. In fact, for a long time he really didn’t want to have much to do with me, after he learned the truth. Penny, my sister, had always been his baby, but I was “Daddy’s girl”—his partner in crime. We had been inseparable, until he learned my secret.
I wondered if things would ever be the same between us.
Somehow, I found myself telling him what my mom had said about grandchildren. For a long time he said nothing, staring into his coffee cup.
“Well, Kit Kat, maybe you need to think about it. When your mother was your age, we were already married. And you were on the way.”
“Really?” I frowned into my own coffee cup, processing that.
Even if this was something I wanted, there was one big, glaring problem. No boyfriend. No viable candidates. It wasn’t lost on me that as of a few months ago, there had been not only one highly qualified, exceptionally desirable contender, but two. Until I’d decided I needed some time to be alone to find the truth in my heart.
Now I’d lost them both. There would be no marriage on the horizon for me anytime soon.
My phone vibrated and gave a brief chime. I glanced down to check the message, relieved for the interruption. It was from Templeton. Meet me at The Pacific Summer Fair for the handover. Ferris wheel.
I sighed. This was normal procedure. After a theft, I always met Templeton in a public place to transfer the spoils and debrief. It was the last thing I felt like doing now, but I didn’t have a choice. The Briolette was still on me.
“I, um, have to go, Dad.”
He watched me with suspicion but said nothing.
“Something I have to do.” I couldn’t explain to my dad where I had to go. But he knew I was choosing my job over my family. I stood and walked away down the corridor before his look of suspicion could turn to one of disgust.
It is my job, I reminded myself. Right or wrong, it was the path I had chosen, and for now I had an obligation to see it through.
Trouble was, at that moment, I felt the same degree of disgust at myself that he did.
Chapter Three
It was dusk, a clear midsummer Friday night, which meant the carnival was busy. Smells of popcorn and cotton candy and axle grease from the rides filled the air. The sky sang with sounds of laughter and the rattling wheels of midway games and calliope music from the carousel.
I made my way to the Ferris wheel, stopping to buy a candy apple along the way, walking along the trampled and flattened grass. I gazed up at the giant spinning wheel in the sky, its lights blinking and flashing. In the lineup I spotted Templeton and slipped into the queue behind him, knowing we’d be paired up when we got to the front of the line.
The bar clunked into place, and we were lifted backward, swinging into the sky.
“Are you all right?” Templeton asked, keeping his gaze on the sky in front of us.
I said nothing for a minute, then nodded. “I will be, I think.”
“And your mother?”
“She’s doing okay. She’s lucky.”
Templeton nodded. “Indeed.”
We said nothing for a moment as the ride climbed to the apex.
“I have something for you,” I said. I pulled out a small padded envelope and held it in my right hand, the candy apple in my left. We were at the peak of the ride so no one on the ground could possibly see the package I handed to Templeton. He accepted it with a gleeful smile.
It made me happy to make Templeton happy, but that was the extent of my positivity. My success at the Briolette job felt as hollow and brittle as a scooped-out eggshell.
The Ferris wheel
creaked and groaned as we rounded the top for the first time and started our descent. “Fabulous work, Petal,” Templeton said, tucking the packet away. “However, there is no rest for the wicked.”
I turned to him. “No?”
“I’ve got something very exciting for you—I think you’re really going to love this next assignment.”
My stomach twisted. Ordinarily the prospect of a new assignment brought nothing but eager anticipation. Now it was the last thing I wanted. I wasn’t ready. I needed time to be sure my heart was still in it. And I wanted to make sure my mother was going to be okay.
“There’s a ring. And we’ve been contacted by a client who wants you to retrieve it for them.”
“Templeton, I—”
“I know, Catherine. But I think you’re going to like the sound of this.”
I sat back and looked at him doubtfully. “Go on.”
“It’s a man’s ring, and it’s from the Middle Ages—the twelfth century. It’s the finest gold, set with a massive ruby.”
My eyebrows knitted together. Something about this was tickling my memory. I took a bite of my candy apple, sweet and tart at the same time.
Templeton was working hard not to grin. “It’s the legendary ring of Richard the Lionheart.”
I almost choked on my apple. “But—I thought that ring was a myth. Nobody has actually seen it.” Being a jewel thief, it was my business to be familiar with all notable pieces of jewelry and gems—real and legendary.
“Well, now they have. It was found in a grave that was recently unearthed by archaeologists in the north of England—in Yorkshire. They’re calling it a very significant find, although they haven’t yet released the information to the public. And they’re not telling us any more details than that.”
The Ferris wheel swung slowly back toward the earth, the chair tilting underneath us as we reached the lowest point. We swooped backward through the nadir and then climbed once more to the sky for our second go-around.
“Do we know who is hiring us? And why?”
“Well, things are a little need-to-know at the moment, and the information I have is pretty scant. All I know right now is that it looks like we’ve been hired by some branch of local government in England. Apparently it’s not a theft for monetary gain, but to hide the very existence of the ring.”
I licked my lips. It was odd, and not the usual motive for stealing a jewel.
He angled his head and looked at me carefully. “Does it matter?”
It did, actually. Everything about my job, my role in life, had been thrown around like the topsy-turvy ride at the carnival, and I needed something to feel grounded by. I needed a good reason to get involved. It was intriguing, but I wasn’t sure it was a good enough reason.
“So—where is the ring located now? Where is this job to take place?”
“It’s currently being held in a lab at the University of York. Under high security. National-level security, in fact.”
“Surely they have professional thieves in England? Why me?”
“Well, that’s an interesting little story. And . . . it’s where there’s a bit of a catch.”
I groaned. Why was there always a catch?
“They came to hear of you because of the Louvre job you did in the spring,” Templeton said.
Ah. So that was it. “They were incredibly impressed at that. Your name is being tossed around in European circles quite a bit,” Templeton continued. “Something you should be very proud of.”
I smiled in spite of myself. I was proud of that job.
“They say they can’t leave this to chance—they can’t risk the existence of this ring becoming public knowledge. In one week the archaeologists are going to release this information, and show the world what they’ve found. It has to happen before then. So, they say they need the best.”
“Okay, well, that’s very flattering. But—what’s the catch you mentioned?”
“Well, they want you . . . but they also want Ethan Jones. They are, essentially, insisting that you work together. They know you worked together on the Louvre job, and they believe you are the perfect pair to do this job.”
I was quiet a moment. “Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s awkward.”
Things between Ethan and me were not terrific at the moment. Well, that wasn’t accurate. It would be more correct to say they were . . . nothing, at the moment. Because I had no idea where Ethan was. I hadn’t seen him in the past several months, and neither had anyone else.
After I had told him and Jack, on the banks of the Louvre, that I needed to be alone for a bit, it seemed he had taken me at my word. There were rumors he’d joined the Peace Corps or something. Which was pretty hard to believe, given that he was one of the most dedicated career criminals I’d ever met.
“They know it wasn’t just me and Ethan doing that job, right? They know Jack helped, too?”
“They know. But, apparently, they’re not interested in hiring someone with such deep connections to law enforcement as Jack. They don’t want an FBI agent, even one who has been dismissed from the bureau. They only want you and Ethan.”
I chewed my lip. I didn’t think they’d be so committed to the idea if they knew about all the undercurrents between Ethan and me.
“Anyway, Catherine, I don’t think it’s something for you to worry about. It will only become an issue if they’re actually able to find him. Which is doubtful. It shouldn’t affect your acceptance of the assignment.”
I nodded. He was right.
But there was still the larger reason why my stomach felt sour about this job. It had everything to do with my mother.
“So, my dear? What do you say? Are you up for it?”
“I don’t know, Templeton. I’m not sure. I need a little time to think about it.”
“Why? They’re offering a very generous fee. It’s a fabulous job. I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“Maybe. But . . . I’m not sure I want any job right now.”
He scowled. “Catherine, this would be a bad career move for you, to turn this down.”
I looked out over the carnival, at the blinking lights from the arcade games. Bleeps and horns and ticking sounds from the Wheel of Fortune floated over to us on the warm breeze.
“Just give me a little time, okay?”
“I can hold them off for twenty-four hours. But you will need to give me an answer by this time tomorrow.”
I fiddled with the remaining bit of candy apple, twirled the stick in my hand.
“I do have another bit of news,” Templeton said. “AB&T has been incredibly pleased with your performance these days. So they are giving you a new, elevated set of responsibilities.”
“Oh?”
“We need you to train a new recruit. There’s an asset who has recently joined the Agency, and he’s got raw talent. But he needs to be trained in the ways of the professional thief. We think you’re the perfect person for this job.”
I sighed. “Oh, Templeton, I don’t know. I mean, it’s flattering. But I don’t know anything about how to teach this stuff. Or be a mentor or anything.”
“Sure you do. You had a mentor when you started going pro, didn’t you?”
Brooke Sinclair. Thinking about her gave me a bitter taste in my mouth. Brooke had been the most skilled teacher I could have asked for. Until she stabbed me in the back.
But this would be different. I would be the mentor. It was my opportunity, perhaps, to do right by a trainee, unlike what Brooke had done to me. Also . . . it could be fun, teaching a newbie, and a good distraction from thoughts about the deeper meaning of my job. And whether I could actually continue in it or not.
“Don’t worry, it won’t interfere with your regular work,” Templeton said. “You just have to bring him along to work on a couple of skills. Polish his pickpocketing craft, etcetera.”
I shrugged. “Okay, maybe.” I shifted in the Ferris wheel chair and it creaked beneath us. “Templeton, I was wondering something.”<
br />
“Yes?”
I fidgeted with the edge of my sweater. “Have you heard from Jack?”
He looked at me closely. “Not exactly. But I’ve heard . . . one or two things through the grapevine.”
I waited. Jack Barlow and I had a long history. Not the smoothest of romantic rides, unfortunately. But we’d been through so much together. It gave me a cramp in my chest that I had lost touch with him in the past two months. It was still difficult for me to accept we were no longer a couple.
“You know Jack was dismissed from the FBI, yes?”
I nodded. This I knew.
Templeton sighed. “It seems he’s also forgotten about the Fabergé quest, the Gifts of the Magi. He doesn’t appear to care anymore.”
My eyebrows raised. It wasn’t like Jack. The quest was a legacy passed down to Jack from his father, as it had been passed through the generations.
Only a few people knew the truth about the Gifts of the Magi. Long ago, the Gifts had been secreted inside a Fabergé egg. Retrieving that Egg, and the lost Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh contained within, was the only honorable goal Jack’s father—an infamous thief, in life—had ever pursued. The trouble was, not only had Jack rejected his father’s way of life and joined the FBI instead, he had become completely estranged from his father. It wasn’t until after the man’s death that Jack had learned of the quest. It hadn’t been easy for Jack, but once he had wrestled with the demons of his criminal heritage, the quest had come to occupy a large and important—although secret—piece of his life. “Is that all you’ve heard? What’s he doing instead?”
He glanced at me sideways and hesitated. “You’re not going to like this, Petal. I’ve heard that Jack has been making some rather questionable lifestyle decisions lately. Throwing a lot of money around, drinking too much, and . . . dating everything that moves.”
I developed a feeling of nausea that had nothing to do with the Ferris wheel.
Chapter Four
In spite of being exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I wasn’t used to sleeping alone yet. It had only been three months since I’d moved out of Jack’s place and back into my own apartment.
