Kept in the Dark

by Heather MacAllister

“Like she’s not going to notice when they disappear?” Talk about denial.

  “If so, she will not suspect Mr. Nazario, who will be in London when you search tonight.”

  “Tonight tonight? In the Hamptons?”

  “No. At the Alexandria home.”

  Just across the river in Virginia, but still. She’d never been in that house. Trying not to be flattered that he thought so highly of her skills, Kaia shook her head at Tyrone. “I need time to study the floor plan and the security system, not to mention assemble any equipment I need. I don’t even know what kind of safe—or safes—I’ll be dealing with. This is a two-part job. First, I need to locate them and then come back with my equipment.”

  “Impossible. Tonight presents a unique opportunity and we must take advantage. You’ll have access to the house.” Alvin unfolded a copy of blueprints that covered the table. “Mrs. Nazario is hosting a trunk show for Royce, the designer to whom the bracelets belong.”

  Royce? Unreal. She hadn’t had contact with Royce in years. She hadn’t had contact with anyone from her former life in years.

  “I’ve arranged for you to act as his assistant tonight.”

  “You want me to steal the bracelets during a party?” In spite of herself, Kaia felt her pulse quicken.

  The weasel winced. “Not steal—”

  Kaia waved her hand. “Words to that effect.”

  Some of that old feeling started pumping through her. The anticipation, the rush, the challenge and excitement. The possibility. The outrageousness of it all. Stealing jewelry from the hostess during a party. And not just any party, a jewelry party with extra security. If she pulled it off, it would be a high like she hadn’t experienced since…since before. Since being part of her family’s long, intricately planned thefts where the risk was great, but so was the payoff.

  She supposed her parents and uncle were still running their cons out there. Somewhere. Without her. Because she was on the side of the law now. To be honest—ha—there wasn’t a whole lot of difference on this side, except that she had to give the stuff up and her thefts were sanctioned. Tyrone saw to her legal protection and her boss assumed responsibility for her during her probation. It wasn’t all out of the goodness of his heart; Kaia had made a lot of money for Guardian. And it sure beat going back to prison.

  “So the designer knows what’s up?” she asked, wondering if Royce had mentioned that they knew each other. Or had known each other. She wasn’t admitting anything if he hadn’t. That info was on a need-to-know basis and no one needed to know.

  “Yes. He understands the need for discretion.”

  I’ll bet he does. “I don’t suppose we’re providing security tonight.”

  “No,” Tyrone said, neutrally. “Nor did we install the specialized features on the premises. The Nazarios are great patrons of the arts and frequently host exhibitions in conjunction with fundraisers in their home.”

  “You’re talking museum-quality security, aren’t you?” Kaia asked. “Lasers. Gates. Pressure pads. All custom. And no time to practice?” There was a difference between a challenge and an impossibility.

  “I don’t know the details,” Tyrone said and shifted his gaze to the lawyer.

  From his briefcase, Alvin had withdrawn a matte gold, silver and black folder obviously containing the system schematics. He hesitated, wearing an expression of pained conflict.

  “She’s bonded,” Tyrone reminded him. And possibly, Kaia, too.

  Just looking at the cover told Kaia that the system was first-rate. It probably cost ten bucks just to print the folder.

  Carefully, the weasel set it in the middle of the coffee table. “Security was recently upgraded,” he said as Kaia reached for the folder.

  Joy. There was most likely some new twist she didn’t know about. “Can we consider bringing the party rent-a-cops in on this?” She lifted the edge. “I mean, come on.”

  “Absolutely not,” Alvin said.

  Kaia stared at the first page of the complex setup. What a challenge. She would have loved to have beaten this system, but without the time to properly prepare, she didn’t have a chance. “If—no, when—I trip an alarm, it’s going to cause a lot more attention than telling the security detail to give me access. Isn’t there some sort of professional courtesy thing among security peeps?”

  “As in ‘look the other way while we rob your client’?” Tyrone asked. “Mmm…not that I recall.”

  Kaia grinned up at him. The gleam in his eyes told her he’d like nothing better than to beat the other company. She flipped through more papers. “So who got tonight’s gig?”

  Just as her fingers paused on a cover letter outlining the number of personnel who would be on site and the screening process for the staff and guests she heard, “Blake McCauley at TransSecure.”

  Kaia froze.

  “TransSecure designed the system for the house, as well. That’s their folder you’re looking at.”

  Blake McCauley. Nothing in Tyrone’s voice suggested the name meant anything to him other than as a competitor. She stared at the paper with the silver, black, and gold logo, and Blake McCauley’s signature at the bottom, and hoped they would think she was reading the letter and not fighting to regain her balance. Yeah. She’d just been congratulating herself for never being caught off-balance except once. Blake was the once.

  Blake McCauley. It had to be the same guy, because that was just the way her day was going. Though when she’d known him, he’d been a police detective.

  And her lover.

  Unwanted memories flickered through her mind. His touch, mostly. Her family weren’t touchers or huggers, unless they were picking someone’s pocket. But from the moment she and Blake had been caught in a sudden downpour and he’d wrapped his strong arm around her shoulders, drawing her close enough to share his umbrella, she’d craved his touch. When she was in his arms, the terrible loneliness vanished. Until Blake, she hadn’t realized she was lonely. She’d thought she was self-sufficient.

  She’d been staring at the paper so long, her eyes started to sting. She blinked and the words slid into focus. Years ago, the need for Blake’s touch had blinded her to caution and everything else. Even worse, she’d known and hadn’t cared. She hadn’t just been off balance; she’d completely fallen. No, Blake McCauley had been far more than just a fling. He’d been the love of her life.

  Right up until he handcuffed her and sent her off to prison.

  3

  “I MADE IT VERY CLEAR to Mrs. Nazario that there were to be no changes to the guest list.” As he spoke into the headset, Blake watched his people check-in tonight’s catering staff and attach a discreet button to their uniform collar. The button was an RFID transmitter so their whereabouts could be monitored. Anyone who decided to go wandering around the house would set off an alert.

  “Some lady’s grandson is in town and she wants to bring him,” a young voice explained.

  Summer interns. Ya gotta love ’em. “Tell her no, Justin.”

  “But Mrs. Nazario already told her it would be okay.”

  Blake exhaled heavily. He’d never understand why people hired security and then did their best to sabotage it. He had very specific requirements when he agreed to a job and as a result, there had not been a single, unresolved negative incident in the five and a half years he’d been transporting and guarding valuables. A perfect record in an industry where reputation and trust were hard to earn and easy to lose, that was why he’d decided to spend this morning on site instead of letting his supervisor take care of the setup for tonight’s party alone.

  “I’ll handle Mrs. Nazario. You vet the grandkid.”

  “But it’s Friday!” Justin protested. “I only work a half-day on Fridays.”

  “How would you like to have every Friday off?”

  “Wow, really?”

  “Sure,” Blake told him cheerfully. “And while you’re at it, take Mondays through Thursdays, too.”

  “But…that would mean I’d work
weekends.”

  Blake said nothing. Justin was Luke’s sister’s kid, a college freshman, and Luke was Blake’s best supervisor. This was a favor, he reminded himself. He could stand it until…let’s see; it was the end of June…when did college start up again, anyway?

  As most people did, Justin filled the silence with blathering. “I mean, my weekends are… Oh. I get it. You weren’t really—” Blake inhaled.

  “I’ll get the info ASAP,” Justin blurted out before Blake could speak.

  “You do that.”

  Blake’s hand was halfway to his earpiece when Justin yelled, “Wait—there’s something else!”

  “What?”

  “Or…or maybe not. I don’t know.”

  “Justin.”

  “Well, the designer guy is there setting up, you know? And he brought an assistant with him.”

  “Yes?” Blake glanced impatiently at his watch. Checking in the kitchen staff was taking too long and now Luke appeared to be having a confrontation with a delivery truck driver. Blake needed to see what that was all about.

  “Except there isn’t an assistant listed, you know, on the list.”

  Justin suddenly had all Blake’s attention.

  “I mean, it makes sense that he’d have one, but—”

  “I’ll look into it.” Blake started to disconnect, then added, “Good catch.” It wasn’t often he found something to praise the kid for.

  As he walked across the pebbled drive toward Luke and the delivery truck, Blake thumbed the keypad of a handheld computer and brought up the master list of everyone who would be present tonight.

  The designer was listed as Royce—no last name. Or possibly no first name. Certainly no assistant, unless he or she was listed as a guest.

  Blake touched the screen and a layout of the house appeared. He pressed the party room and an instant later, the voice of his man located there sounded in his earpiece.

  “Josef.”

  “Do you have eyes on Royce?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there an assistant with him?”

  “Yes, along with a mess of decorators.”

  “They’ll be leaving. Find out if the assistant will be at the party. Anyone who stays gets tagged, including the designer.”

  “Copy that.”

  Blake stared at the room layout. There were too many exits and a whole lot of glass. He tapped the screen again.

  “Josef, secure the jewelry until the room is clear.”

  “You got a spare man?” Josef asked.

  “I’m on my way.”

  But just as he disconnected, the driver of the delivery van lost his cool. Luke didn’t, which infuriated the man even more.

  His arms waved out the window. “I’ve got three more setups scheduled!”

  Blake ambled over, deliberately low-key. Luke was on the phone.

  “What’s up?”

  The man erupted again as Luke met Blake’s eyes and took a step away.

  “I’m supposed to install an awning over the driveway! There’s gonna be rain and wind tonight. There’s a cool front south of here that’s moving up the coast and it’s causing all kinds of problems.”

  Involuntarily, Blake glanced skyward. “We weren’t informed about an awning installation.”

  “I’m informing you! I’m informing you I got two other installs after this. I gotta get goin’!”

  “I understand. We’re verifying the job order now.”

  As Blake spoke, Luke caught his eye and shook his head. “Mrs. Nazario is at the spa and can’t be disturbed.”

  Great. “Who’s in charge?”

  Luke cracked a smile. “You are.”

  “Yeah, I figured. Okay, search the van and let the man get to work.” Blake scanned the area and pointed to a security camera with a view of the front entrance. “The awning will block that camera.”

  Luke nodded. “I’ll move it.”

  “No,” Blake said slowly with another glance at the sky. “If it does rain, then the valets will hang out under the awning making it easy for someone to slip past. Add another camera beneath the awning.”

  “Gotcha.” Luke tapped at his phone and walked to the rear of the van where the driver waited impatiently.

  Originally, Blake had only planned to be here for a few hours before heading back to his D.C. office, but he’d since decided to stay. The Nazarios had sunk a big chunk of change into a security system upgrade, which he’d designed. There had been a rash of thefts in the area and he wanted to verify that all was working correctly. Not that he thought there would be an attempt on the Nazario party tonight. In his lifetime, first as a police detective and now as a security specialist, Blake had only met one thief with the skills and audacity to hit the house tonight.

  Kaia Bennet.

  A memory of her face, pale with straight, dark hair, flashed in his mind as it often did when he worked a complicated job. What would she see? How would she elude the security? He caught himself trying to think the way she would think and analyze the obstacles the way she would because, even after all this time, Blake knew that he designed every system with her in mind. She was the best he’d ever encountered—as a thief and a lover.

  Even after six years, he remembered the feel of her in his arms, her scent, her taste, and how her body fit perfectly next to his. He missed sleeping with her. Not just the sex, but actually sleeping. Something about the sound of her breathing and the weight of her body in his bed gave him the most restful nights of his life.

  He thought of her smile lighting up her face when she saw him and the way it made him feel, or the way he’d felt before the night he realized it had all been a lie. She was a thief and a good one from a family of thieves.

  But his time with her had felt real—more real than any relationship since. Except he hadn’t had a relationship since Kaia. He’d had encounters. Empty encounters.

  He was usually pretty good about remembering the thief part and forgetting the lover part. Not today. Not this week. Her last job before going to prison had been stealing a diamond pendant from the Nazarios.

  His last case before quitting the force had been recovering that diamond pendant for the Nazarios.

  And that’s all he was going to think about that. It was done. The past.

  As he headed to the large room where the party would be held, he gave a last visual sweep of the side and front entryway, noting the blind spots that would be caused by the awning. Yeah, it was a good decision to be here tonight. What with the weather, the jewelry, and all the extra people, coupled with a hostess who was playing loosey goosey with his security procedures, Luke could use the help.

  Just in case.

  KAIA STOOD IN THE middle of the party room and took in the huge Alexandria home. Clearly, Casper could afford to keep covering his wife’s habit. Or maybe he’d simply stopped, because Kaia sure wouldn’t be here if his wife had.

  “Stop staring at me like that,” she murmured to Royce, her gaze systematically locating all the glass-break sensors and security cameras.

  “You don’t look any worse after your stay in the clink.”

  “You sound like a movie gangster.”

  “I’m not up on prison slang.”

  Kaia glanced over her shoulder and resumed her systematic cataloging to verify that there hadn’t been any changes from the schematics the weasel had given her. “Neither am I. I’ve been out nearly three years.”

  “Time off for good behavior?”

  “Something like that.”

  She felt Royce move closer. “Are we sticking with the we’ve-never-met-before plan?”

  “Except for those who think I’m your assistant.”

  “So very complicated. Why don’t you become my assistant for real? You could.”

  “No.”

  Royce chuckled. There was a touch of a British accent to his voice. Fake, of course. The more expensive the jewelry, the heavier his accent.

  “Oh, I think you could.” He stepped away. “
Kaia, look.”

  When she turned, he held up two rings, then closed his fingers over them. “Which one?”

  It was an old game, a party trick. Her father had liked to show off his little girl’s precocious ability. Kaia didn’t want to play, but rather than make Royce curious about why she didn’t, she answered, “The one in your left hand. It’s an eleven carat pear-cut aquamarine surrounded by diamonds. The ring in your right hand is blue topaz, surrounded by white topaz, or maybe zircon, if you got a good deal.”

  Royce raised his eyebrows. “You haven’t lost your touch.”

  Kaia reached for the two rings. “Neither have you.” Making a costume jewelry copy of the original piece was Royce’s shtick. What the clients did with it was up to them.

  “So what are you doing in the security biz, Kaia? I can understand you going legit, but not that way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for your help tonight, but you have a gift. With an eye like yours, you could make a fortune as a gem buyer.”

  Oh, yeah. Kaia knew, but didn’t feel like sharing the terms of her probation. She handed the rings back to Royce. “I need to polish my good-girl image first.”

  “You have a good-girl image?”

  “See?” They both laughed and began unfolding the legs of the little round pedestals Royce would drape in black velvet and use to display his pieces.

  “Sooo,” Kaia began after checking that they were out of earshot of the decorators, “what’s with the bracelets? Why didn’t you just let Casper buy them for his wife?”

  “They aren’t for sale.” And how interesting that he spoke without a trace of a British accent in his voice.

  “Yeah, I heard that. What’s the story?”

  Royce pulled a table leg into position with an audible click. “We couldn’t come to terms.”

  Kaia responded with a click of her own. “Okay, so what’s the truth?”

  “The cuffs are mourning jewelry.” He glanced at her. “Jewelry incorporating hair of the deceased—”

  “Yes, I know.” And, ew.

  “The value is more in the sentiment than for the stones so I wasn’t sure you were aware of that particular genre,” Royce explained.