by Cassie Miles
“And living in Vail,” Cerise concluded. “Be careful of Henning. I think he’s up to something.”
Tasha hung up the telephone. It seemed as if Spectrum had spread a web that was tangled in every part of her life. Everything she loved, everything she cared about, was touched. Her family. Her friends. Her livelihood.
After the sting, she wasn’t sure she could continue in this location. Her history, as a suspected jewel thief, would be common knowledge. Henning would make sure of that. He would paint her in the darkest colors.
She would be ruined.
“Tasha?”
She looked to David. They had only known each other for a few days, yet it seemed he was the single individual who knew her better than anyone. “Yes, David.”
“I’ll take Mandy home. At the same time, I want you to go to your apartment. Pack for two days. At nine o’clock tonight, when you close the store, I’ll pick you up in a dark sedan with tinted windows. We’ll go somewhere safe.”
“You’re not going to quit being Wally Beamis, are you?” She wanted him here in the shop with her tomorrow.
“Do you have a thing for Wally?”
A chuckle caught in the back of her throat. Desperately, she wished she could laugh out loud, to release the constricting tension. “Maybe I like Wally a lot.”
“Then I’ll be Wally. And David, too.” He pulled her against his body. “I’ll be anyone or anything you want me to be, Tasha. We’ll get through this.”
She drew warmth from him. And hope. As long as there was hope, she might survive.
THAT NIGHT, in their hotel room, Tasha unpacked carefully. She’d brought her sexy blue peignoir, but that wasn’t the first thing she removed from her suitcase.
“What’s that?” David asked as she pulled out a square wooden container that was slightly larger than a shoe box.
“My bag of tricks,” she said.
She flipped the lid of the box back on its hinges. To some people, the objects contained within might have seemed sinister, but Tasha picked fondly through the selection of padlocks, combination locks, handcuffs, ropes and chains.
“I used this stuff for escapes when I was a magician’s assistant.” She held up a pair of cuffs. “I won these from a cop on a bet.”
“Nice,” David said.
“And this.” She ran a short piece of heavy-duty chain through her fingers. “This is part of the chain that I wrapped around myself before I was locked in a box and suspended from the ceiling.”
“Was there anything in your early life that resembled normality?”
On the dresser, she spread out a collection of combination and key-in padlocks from various manufacturers. She picked one up and felt the solid weight in her hand. “This is a Citadel. An excellent lock. It almost killed my sister when she was doing an underwater escape and dropped the key.”
“But she had a key,” David said. He was unpacking his own suitcase, hanging suits in the closet and filing underwear in the drawers of the dresser. “You two girls didn’t really pick all these locks, you palmed the keys or used tricks to escape.”
“Now I’m offended.” She gave him a mock glare. “Mostly, our escapes were real. We’d ask people from the audience to provide the locks.”
“Plants,” he said. “People who were working with you.”
“Sometimes, but not always. The trick to magic is convincing people it’s true, getting them to suspend their skepticism.”
“And how would you do that?”
“We’d have someone from the audience who had a reputation for being truthful and honest bring up a lock, and we would actually work it open on stage. Stacey and I used to practice with the stuff I have in this box. Late at night, we’d hang out in our hotel room, talking and practicing for hours and hours. We were good, David, very good. The magician we worked with said we had natural talent.” She flexed her hands. “Ultrasensitive fingers.”
When David unfastened the holster from his shin and checked his automatic pistol, she looked away. Tasha didn’t want to be reminded of the real danger that existed. It was far more comforting to think of the sting as a magic trick, an illusion that would end with a puff of smoke.
She took a pack of playing cards from the box. Thumbing through them to get the feel, she showed off by shuffling in a cascade, flipping the cards, one after the other. She fanned the deck in front of David. “Pick one, memorize it, stick it back in the deck.”
After he’d done as instructed, she shuffled again and set the deck before David on the dresser. “Cut three times.”
She scooped up the cards. She fanned again with both hands. One card poked out, and Tasha flipped it faceup.
“Queen of diamonds. That’s the one you picked.”
“Very good.” David applauded. “I’ve always wondered. How does that trick work?”
“A real magician never tells.”
She grabbed several locks and a tiny pick no larger than an unbent paper clip. Pacing in the hotel room, she manipulated the padlock open with a satisfying, metallic click. “Do you think the sting will work, David?”
“It better.”
He removed a small, flat derringer from his trouser pocket, and Tasha turned away, sitting on the bed with another lock in her hands. “Our plan seems much too casual to me. Just go through the motions, and Henning will arrest Spectrum on the other side. You know that Green is going to be armed.”
“And dangerous,” David said.
“What if he decides to kill the guards before we break inside the vault?”
“I guess they fall down and pretend they’re dead. If they’re lucky enough to be shot in the bulletproof vest.”
She yanked open the padlock. Working these devices had a calming effect on Tasha. “What if one person in the gang stays outside as a guard? They’ll notice Henning moving in, and they’ll alert the others.”
“Then you’re stuck inside, and you’ll have to do some fast talking to convince them you’re not involved,” David said. “But you’re right, Tasha. I don’t like the setup. It’s dangerous.”
“On the other hand,” she said, picking up a combination lock and working the dial without looking at it, “I can’t think of anything else to do. Henning can’t arrest them now. They haven’t done anything.”
“And the chances of conviction are much better if they have the evidence.”
She concentrated for a moment, feeling the internal mechanism of the lock. The tumblers fell into place, and she eased it open.
Slack-jawed, David stared at the combination lock. “How did you do that? You didn’t even look at the numbers.”
“I could feel it,” she said. “There’s an infinitesimal pause when the right number is reached. It’s as if the lock remembers the combination from having used it so many times. Of course, I’m familiar with these locks and they’re not terribly complex. The safe in Pola and Tweed is an entirely different matter. Without the combination, it might take me an hour to get it open.”
“Why wouldn’t Brown cut through with a torch?”
She shrugged. “There must be something about the construction of the safe. Sometimes, safe manufacturers use copper along with the steel walls because copper is a quick conductor and can react with an alarm before the lock is open. There might be a manual trigger that can’t be disarmed via computer. A microwave sensor. Something like that.”
“Did you ever do one of those escapes when you were locked in a safe?”
“Child’s play,” she said dismissively. “On the interior of a safe, the locking mechanism is right there in front of you. It’s easy to break out.”
“Harder to break in.”
“But I used to do it handcuffed.” Tasha snapped the cuffs onto her slender wrists. In seconds, she had picked the lock. She stood before him. With a flourish she pulled the cuffs apart. “Ta-da! Nothing to it.”
“Let me try,” David said.
“You want me to lock you in cuffs?”
“No, Tasha
.” He caught her wrists in his hands and held them above her head. In one step, he backed her up against the wall. “I want to try to pin you down so you can’t get away. Can you get out of this?”
She gazed into his warm gray eyes. “What makes you think I want to escape?”
He kissed her lips, probing with his tongue, slowly tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Though David couldn’t believe their lovemaking would surpass last night, he had eagerly been anticipating his moment when they would join together once again.
Still holding her hands, he nuzzled her throat, nibbled at her earlobe. Her moan of excitement aroused him.
When he released her hands so he could touch her breasts, he found the nipples were already hard, needing him as much as he needed her.
He carried her to the bed and made love to her, finding the most exquisite pleasure in her arms and her willing acceptance of his passion. She was more bold tonight, even more sensual.
David found himself being drawn to her in a way he’d never felt before. He was tied to her with an invisible but unbreakable bond. And he did not want to leave her. Not ever.
THE MORNING CAME too soon, and they had not figured out any sort of magical plan for turning the odds to their advantage. David hated to think of the danger. He lay in the bed beside her, holding her hand and staring up at the bland fixture in the hotel room ceiling. “Tomorrow,” he said. “We need to come up with something by tomorrow.”
“We could run away,” she said. “We could go to the airport and take off for a distant island where we would never be found.”
“And how would we live on this island?”
“We’d pick coconuts and mangoes and make our clothing of palm fronds. Like Robinson Crusoe.”
“Supposing that such a place existed,” he said, turning his head toward her, “I somehow can’t believe a sophisticated woman like you would be happy with the life of a noble savage.”
“You’re probably right,” she said, looking back at him with her mysterious dark eyes. “It would only be a matter of time before I started making jewelry from conch shells.”
“Organizing the natives.”
“Opening a coconut store.”
“But it’s a nice fantasy,” he said. David leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose. “Being with you forever would be like a dream come to life.”
Her lips quirked in a grin. “Forever is only about ten more days, David. Then you’re done with this assignment.”
He didn’t have to go back to New York. As far as he knew, there were no assignments pending. “I could stay longer. I have vacation time.”
“That won’t work,” she said wistfully. “No, it’s better if you leave when you intended. That’s what I’m expecting, and I don’t want to say goodbye more than once.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
“With all my heart.” She lightly kissed him. “But first, we need to concentrate on getting through the next few days.”
Tasha left the bed and went into the bathroom. While David lay thinking, directing his mind down one false corridor after another, trying to find a solution, she got ready for work.
All dressed and groomed, she stood beside the bed. “I’ll see you in the shop.”
“No, you’ll see Wally Beamis. Dammit, I feel so impotent.”
She caressed his cheek and lovingly kissed his lips. “After last night, David, I promise that’s not a realistic concern.”
At Bloom’s, Tasha had just completed her morning chores when she saw Mr. Brown approaching the front door, and she hurried to open it for him.
He brushed past her. “I will be in your office.”
“Was the videotape okay?”
“Very good. We will cut through the refrigerated cabinet where you store your flowers.”
She trailed after him. “When will you start?”
Over his shoulder, he said, “When it is time.”
“I had an idea,” she said.
“What?”
Brown turned at the door to her office and glared down at her. His abruptness startled her, and she retreated a few paces. “I thought,” Tasha said, “that I would have my assistant, Wally, do some construction work in the back. He’s terribly clumsy, and I’m sure he’ll make enough noise to divert attention from anything you’re doing.”
“Fine.” Brown entered her office and closed the door.
Tasha moved to the front counter, wishing there was something she could do, some kind of mindless task that would occupy her hands and keep her from thinking too deeply about what would happen tomorrow.
Last night, she’d completed the arrangement for the Natural History Museum and had pulled all the flowers they would need. It was too early to begin preparations for the weekend wedding.
At ten o’clock, David arrived in his Wally Beamis disguise. She gave him instructions for building another worktable. Having him close by was an awful temptation. But having him gone would be far worse.
Brown left the shop at noon, and she huddled with David. “I have no idea what he’s doing in there. Should I take a look?”
“Don’t risk it, Tasha. Brown is probably setting up computer stuff that neither you nor I would understand, arranging for the final disarming of the alarm system next door.”
“I could mess something up,” she said. “I’d pretend it was an accident, that I spilled a glass of water.”
“He’d fix it.” David caught hold of her arm. “Don’t get in their way. Don’t let them think you’re not on their side. We have to trust that Henning will take care of his end.”
“David, this is driving me crazy. I can’t take another whole day of waiting. How are we going to get out of this? Have you come up with anything?”
“Let’s try Henning. Maybe he’s got a plan.” David went to the phone at the front desk and punched in a number. “Inspector? We need to talk. Tonight.”
He passed the phone to Tasha. She heard the smug, accented tones of Henning’s voice say, “I have the combination for you.”
He recited five numbers, and she repeated them back to him.
“Don’t write them down,” Henning warned.
“I don’t need to.” These were the numbers that might save her life. She would remember.
“Tell your boyfriend that we can meet tonight at eight o’clock. My hotel.”
Tasha hung up the phone. “Do we have tomeet with him, David? Can’t we figure out something on our own?”
“Henning’s a part of this. We have no choice.”
He returned to his task, and she sat at the front counter, mentally repeating the five numbers that wouldopen the Jezebel safe in Pola and Tweed. What if Henning lied to her? What if he’d given her the wrong combination?
He wouldn’t do that. He wanted to catch Spectrum in the act, with the rubies in their hands. Apprehending this gang would be the crowning achievement of his career.
At half past three in the afternoon, Brown returned with Green. The two men were so intent upon their work that they barely glanced at Tasha before entering the refrigerated unit.
She stood in the doorway and watched as Brown took precise measurements. With the point of a Swiss Army knife, he scratched a rectangular outline into the stainless steel surface of the unit. The top edge was only four feet high. “Here is where I make the cut.”
“Make it taller,” Green said. “I’ll have to bend almost in half to get through there.”
“A little discomfort, Mr. Green, is to be expected.”
“If there’s trouble, I need to get out fast. I can’t be crawling around if I need to take aim.”
“No higher,” Brown said. “The floors are uneven. We will step down sixteen centimeters.”
“Make it taller,” Green repeated.
Muttering to himself in Russian, Brown refigured his calculations and marked about eight inches higher.
As Brown lifted the thermal lance, Green turned toward her. “Go back out front. Make sure nobody gets suspicious.”
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“Won’t the cutting set off alarms next door?”
“Not right now,” Brown said. “The motion- and heatsensing equipment is off while there are customers in the store.”
“Are you cutting all the way through?”
“No, I will go through the stainless steel of your refrigerator, then through twelve centimeters of concrete. I will leave the steel and copper shell of the safe wall.” He shrugged. “Tomorrow night, I can cut through that in eleven minutes. If our penetration goes undetected, this entryway will be concealed behind one of the metal cabinets.” He glared at Green. “If it’s not too tall to be a visible hole.”
“Get out,” Green ordered her. “Close the door to this unit.”
Tasha obeyed. Brown seemed to have a frighteningly thorough grasp of his high-technology equipment and his centimeter measurements. How had he obtained such complete blueprints of both shops? Her videotape from yesterday wouldn’t have showed that. How did he know?
She tiptoed toward her office and silently opened the door. A portable computer sat in the middle of her desk. An array of other electronic equipment was displayed neatly inside a metal toolbox. The only object that looked vaguely familiar was a clock face, permanently set at 7:35.
Glancing toward the rear of her shop, she wished she could talk with David. Her instincts told her that something about the caper wasn’t going as planned.
It was five o’clock in the afternoon, one hour before closing time, when Green and Brown emerged from the refrigerated unit.
“Is it done?” Tasha asked.
Saying nothing, they went into her office and closed the door.
“A little rude,” Tasha muttered, “But what could I expect from a psychopath and a skeleton?”
Just before closing, the volunteer people from the museum came in, and David helped them load the flowers in two minivans.
While he was in the rear of the store, Tasha looked up and saw Cerise. She was dressed in a close-fitting black outfit with a red belt.
“And how are you today, Miss Lancer?”
“I’d be a lot better if somebody would tell me what was going on. Brown and Green are stalking around here in total silence, digging their little holes in the wall.”
