by Cassie Miles
“I still don’t believe her,” he said casually. “There’s something about Miss Lancer that worries me a lot.”
His suspicion struck a chord of fear that resonated within her. She needed to convince these people that she was on their side, but she was largely ignorant of their procedures. It occurred to her that she should have memorized every detail of David’s Interpol report.
“Well, Stacey?” Cerise regarded her coolly. “Are you one of us?”
“Yes. We all want the same thing.”
Green sneered. “Why should we trust her?”
Tasha’s heart plummeted. Was there a ritual required to prove her loyalty? What was she supposed to do? The possibility for a misstep was huge. She felt as if she was tiptoeing precariously on a precipice with a hundred-foot drop on either side.
The swinging doors to the private room pushed open, and two waiters came through, carrying plates of appetizers. Tasha was afraid to load the small plate at her place setting. Her hands were trembling. She doubted she could even hold a fork.
Then one of the waiters asked, “Shall I pour the wine?”
She knew that voice. David! Careful not to betray her relief, she placed her hand over her wineglass and smiled up at him. “None for me.”
He’d slicked back his hair and covered his upper lip with a drooping moustache that befitted the waiter’s costume of buckskin trousers and vest. His gray eyes barely acknowledged her as he poured for Cerise.
“Leave us,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
But Tasha knew he’d be right outside the swinging doors. Listening. Waiting. Confidence swelled within her. She raised her shotglass of vodka. “To the rubies.”
“Indeed.” Cerise held up her wineglass, and the light from a rough-hewn lantern caught the jewellike red sparkle of merlot. “To our latest venture, our success and our profit.”
Tasha threw back her vodka and poured herself another shot.
The skeletal Mr. Brown complimented her in Russian.
Under his breath, Green muttered, “Vodka. A peasant’s drink.”
“Too strong for you,” Brown said.
“A burn without flavor. What’s so strong about that?”
Before a skirmish could break out between the two men, Cerise chided, “Please, boys, let’s have none of your petty nonsense. Our first order of business is to name our newest member. Stacey, what color will you be?”
“Is that really necessary?”
“Yes, if you’re to be one of us.”
“All right.” She chose a color that matched her mood. “Black.”
Tasha felt three sets of eyes glaring steadily at her. All movement ceased. A frozen quiet settled upon them.
“No,” Green whispered. “It can’t be you.”
Cerise expelled a low chuckle. “You’re joking, of course. Black is not an available color of the spectrum.”
Tasha knew she’d made a mistake. She decided to bluff. “But I like black. It suits me.”
Stiffly, Cerise said, “Black is the absence and the absorption of all the other colors. Only our leader is named Black.”
“Didn’t you know that?” Green demanded. “You should have known.”
Tasha lifted her chin. “I know more than you expect. Don’t underestimate me.”
“You’re not the boss,” Green said.
Brown snickered. “Maybe she is. Black could be a woman.”
“But it’s not me,” Tasha said.
“I knew it,” Green said.
“I only wanted to make a point,” Tasha said. Glad for her facile skills at deception, she continued, “We’ll be using my store, Bloom’s. And when we’re there, I must be in control. Otherwise, it will be impossible to divert suspicion.”
Tasha looked each of them in the eye. “I’ve spent six months creating this cover story. While you are in my store, you must all do exactly as I say.”
Though Cerise hiked up an eyebrow, she nodded her agreement. “Now, what color will you be?”
A rainbow flowed through Tasha’s mind. Was there significance in each of the colors? Would she make another mistake? Was yellow the color of cowardice, white for purity, blue for sadness? “Silver,” she said.
Cerise seemed pleased. “Silver, it shall be.”
They proceeded through dinner, and Tasha managed to force down several tasteless bites of food. Though she maintained an aura of friendly camaraderie, her stomach was tied in knots. Her mouth tasted arid and gritty. It took complete concentration not to betray her intense fear as they discussed Denver and the coming ski season in Aspen as compared with true Alpine skiing in Europe.
Nearing the end of their meal, Tasha grew wary. They had not discussed their plans since her mistake in choosing Black. Had she made a fatal error? The only thing that kept her from disintegrating into a quivering mass of nerves was the presence of David, gliding into and out of the room with the other waiters. He wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen to her. He would protect her.
Against Green? Tasha almost choked on a bite of her rare venison steak. “Will you all excuse me? I need to powder my nose.”
On her way to the rest room, David intercepted her. He spoke only one sentence. “Leave first. Drive like hell back to your apartment.”
“Yes.”
In the ladies’ room where the frontier motif had been abandoned in favor of clean white tile, Tasha stepped into a stall and vomited up her dinner. She groaned. The tension was unbearable. Every word she spoke, every phrase, seemed to betray her.
She heard the door to the bathroom open and dose. When she stepped out of the stall, she confronted Cerise, who was casually applying a fresh coat of scarlet lipstick. Their eyes met in the mirror.
Cerise said, “You shouldn’t have joked about the colors.”
“I meant no disrespect.” She rinsed her hands, dug into her purse for the Opium cologne and applied a squirt behind each earlobe, hoping to mask the scent of her fear. “But I’m tired of Green trying to intimidate me.”
“His sophistication doesn’t run deep.” Cerise smiled at herself in the mirror. “Generally, he follows my instructions, but he is not a truly civilized man.”
“I don’t like these games,” Tasha said. “Why should we pretend that we don’t know one another? You all know me.”
Cerise turned her head and looked directly into Tasha’s eyes. “And do you remember my name, Stacey?”
Tasha thought of David’s information from Interpol and nodded. “Farrah. You’re Farrah Mauser.”
“Good. You really are Stacey Lancer.”
“Yes.”
“Never speak my real name again.”
When they returned to the table, Cerise sketched out the plan.
“The theft will occur three days from now. Brown has determined the best spot to tunnel from the flower shop into the vault of Pola and Tweed. The wall is three feet of concrete and one inch of steel. We will peel through this surface layer by layer, carefully. I think it’s best to do this during daylight hours when the shops are open and motion-sensing devices are not in operation.” She turned to Tasha. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, as long as we’re careful about the noise levels.” She paused. “By the way, I’ve hired a new assistant. But don’t worry about him. He’s a complete idiot. The perfect foil for diverting suspicion.”
“Another witness,” Green said. “I don’t like it.”
“She has to have someone,” Cerise explained. “And it can’t be one of us. We can’t take the chance of being too visible. Not with Henning so close.”
“I’ll start tomorrow,” said Brown.
“Fine.” Tasha rose from her chair, mindful of David’s instructions to leave first. “I’ll be at the shop at eight o’clock to take delivery of new flower stock. And I will remain open until nine in the evening.”
Green pushed back his chair and stood. “Don’t you want to hear your part of the job?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Tasha was fami
liar enough with the vault at Pola and Tweed to make a guess. “You need me to open the safe within the vault where the rubies will be stashed.”
“This is correct,” Brown said. “Though they have upgraded the outer perimeter of security, the safe is still the old-fashioned variety. Very clever, really.”
“Why?” Green sneered.
“This break-in requires a diversity of skill. My knowledge of computers, electronics and state-of-the-art security will gain entry to the vault. There, we encounter a metal box, five feet square. The weight is nine hundred and forty pounds. The size is cumbersome.”
“It’s only a safe,” Green said.
“Ah, yes.” Brown sucked at his vodka. “A five-digit combination lock, magnetized tumblers and a timer to confuse most computerized devices.”
“So what?”
“It is possible to break this code, but it might take an hour. It is possible to blow the safe open, but in the confined space of the vault, it would be dangerous.” As he glanced at Tasha, he held up his hand and rubbed his fingertips together. “The best method is the timehonored art of safecracking. A sensitive touch. I wonder, Miss Silver, can you do this?”
“Of course,” Tasha said. “Why do you think I’ve gone to all the trouble to set up shop next door to Pola and Tweed? Coincidence?”
Brown said, “I will see you tomorrow at your shop.”
Tasha grabbed her purse and headed toward the exit. “Good night. I enjoyed dinner.”
As soon as she was outside the restaurant, she dashed to her car and dove in from the passenger side. She fired up her engine, anxious to put as many miles as possible between herself and Green.
“Tasha.”
“Yikes!” She jumped in her seat.
“It’s David. I’m in the back seat.”
“What are you doing?” She gasped. “You scared the poop out of me!”
“Don’t go to your apartment.”
“But you told me—”
“Drive, Tasha. Take the highway. Go toward the old airport.”
She was pulling out of the parking lot just as Green’s hulking form appeared in the restaurant doorway. Leaning toward the back seat, she said, “Green’s just leaving.”
“Excellent! You have a head start. Don’t blow it. Go as fast as possible without getting pulled over.”
She eased into traffic. “I don’t like this, David. I’m not a very good driver.”
“Can you tell if anyone is following you?”
“It’s night,” she said pointedly. “All I can see in my rearview mirror is headlights.”
“You can do it, Tasha.”
“Why can’t I just go back to my apartment?”
“While you were in the bathroom with Cerise, I overheard Green saying that he didn’t think you could be trusted. He said he was going to keep an eye on you.”
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The danger was still there. Even though she was, supposedly, one of them, Green suspected her. “He’s not going to leave me alone, is he?”
“No,” David said. “This is his lifework. And, as you pointed out, he’s damned good at it.”
“Did you hear anything else?”
“Enough to figure that Green and Brown aren’t too fond of each other. Cerise has her hands full, trying to control these two.” He paused. “Remember what they said about Black?”
How could she forget? “I thought they were going to kill me right there, on the spot. I’ve never been so scared.”
“You handled it well,” he said. “You’re a gifted liar, Tasha.”
“Gosh, thanks.” But she knew that he hadn’t meant to compliment her. “The only person who has always been able to tell when I’m lying is Stacey. It’s one of those twin things. I could always tell what she was thinking, and vice versa.”
“Black worries me,” he said. “There was no mention in the Interpol information about a mastermind who was running the show for Spectrum. And it seems like hisor her—identity is a secret, even from the rest of the gang.”
“How much did you hear about the rest of the plan?”
“Some of it. But give me the details.”
While she drove, Tasha recounted the deceptively simple scheme of making a hole in her wall that would connect with the vault at Pola and Tweed. The tricky part, she knew, was Brown’s job of disarming the computers and motion sensors.
Leaving the highway, she took the exit that led to the former Stapleton Airport, now a mostly deserted facility. “What next, David?”
“Pick a hotel with covered parking.”
As soon as she’d parked, he was out of the car, stretching. Together, they went into the lobby. David checked in. In moments, they were in a fifth-floor room with two double beds. Placing the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob, he locked the door and the dead bolt.
“Are you sure this is necessary?” she asked.
“A simple precaution. I’d rather not have Green barge in on us while we’re sleeping.”
“I guess you’re right.” She thought of her earlier plans for this night with David. The gorgeous blue peignoir. The spontaneous seduction. Regretfully, she said, “But I don’t have any of my clothes.”
He held out his hand to her. “I don’t think you’ll need them.”
Chapter Ten
His gray eyes shimmered with a captivating heat as he took her hand. Still wearing his waiter’s costume of buckskin trousers and a fringed vest over a white shirt, David looked handsomely rustic, and Tasha felt an odd, maidenly hesitation.
“This isn’t exactly how I wanted it to be,” she said. “I was fantasizing about my blue peignoir. And maybe a candle or two. And I’m filthy. I have on the same clothes I wore this morning to muck out the dead flowers in the refrigerated unit.”
“I don’t need anything but you, Tasha.”
“But I want to feel pretty.”
“You’re beautiful.” Tenderly, he stroked her hair off her forehead and dropped a kiss on her temple. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead and take your bath.”
She bobbed her head up and down. What was wrong with her? She’d been intensely aware of his sexuality from the first time she laid eyes upon him. For the past two nights, they’d slept in the same small apartment. Last night, he shared her bed. And now that the moment was finally here…it seemed too deliberate, too planned. The impersonal hotel room lacked the magic she wanted.
Taking a backward step, she said, “I feel silly. It’s not like this is the first time.”
As soon as she spoke, she realized that this was exactly like the panic she felt on the first time. In fact, it was worse. When she’d lost her virginity, she’d been too young and inexperienced to understand the significance. Now, with David, she was nervous, twittery and trembling with excitement. There was a portent in the air.
Tasha had never felt this way about any other man. She had never trusted so completely, never allowed herself to hope that their lovemaking would be the start of something more enduring. Of course, she’d had sex before. But, perhaps, she had never made love.
Avoiding his gaze, she slipped into the bathroom, ran hot water into the tub and undressed. As she stepped into the steaming liquid, she wished for bath salts, fragrances and soothing oils for her skin. And her makeup. She wanted to be perfect for David.
He rapped on the door. “Take your time, Tasha. I’m going to get food.”
“We were just at a restaurant,” she shouted back.
“I didn’t have time to eat.”
Well, of course not, he was too involved in spying on a gang of international jewel thieves. She smiled to herself. Espionage didn’t do much for the appetite, but she didn’t want him to leave. Had she ruined the mood? Did he regret coming here with her? “Call room service.”
“Takes too long. I’ll be right back.”
Doubts assailed her as she turned off the faucets with her toes and slid down to her chin in the hot, lapping water. What if David didn’t really want her
? Maybe he felt trapped by the situation and couldn’t think of a polite way to tell her. Wait a minute here. We’re talking about David.
He definitely wasn’t shy. If there was anything consistent about the man, it was how he stated his opinions, regardless of what she wanted to hear.
Tasha was pretty sure that he wanted her. But would she be skillful enough to arouse him? Would she disappoint him?
For an instant, she toyed with the idea of calling the whole thing off. David would be an absolute gentleman if she told him that they mustn’t make love. After all, they couldn’t possibly have anything resembling a relationship. He was leaving in less than two weeks, going back to New York.
And that was why she needed to make love to him. Now. She needed to seize this moment and hold on tight.
Morosely, Tasha soaked until she heard the outer door to their room open.
David called out, “I’m back. I got extra food, if you want any.”
“Okay.” Whatever he’d gotten, she was sure that it beat snails and buffalo balls “Save some for me.”
She drained the tub, then washed and rinsed her hair in the shower. Fortunately, her short haircut required no more attention than a brisk toweling.
Now, the problem was what to wear. There was no way that Tasha would crawl back into the grungy skirt and turtleneck she’d been wearing all day, but she didn’t feel right about strolling out of the bathroom stark naked.
Wrapped in a towel, she opened the bathroom door and peeked out.
David had transformed the plain hotel bedroom. A dozen votive candles in glass holders flickered romantically around the room. And there were flowers. She counted four separate arrangements—two of roses.
“I thought you might feel more at home with the roses,” he said. “In your bedroom at home, I noticed that you had two bouquets.”
Spread out on the bed nearest the bathroom was a silky pink gown and matching robe. “Oh, David, where did you get all this?”
“Hotel gift shop. I was lucky. They were just getting ready to close.”
Contrasting all this seductive elegance was a tray of plain bagels, a container of cream cheese and two extra large coffees.
“It’s wonderful, David. You’re wonderful.”
