The Summer of Us: A Romance Anthology

by AJ Matthews

  “And that means Angelique is—“

  “Right behind you.” Angelique said. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, nothing at all,” Gable said. “You all enjoy the party. I’m going to arrange for that second floor thing,” he added to Shana. She nodded. She didn’t blame him. She and Dane weren’t exactly hitting it out of the park with their attempt to trap the thief.

  She looked at Dane. Angelique stood next to him making her feel like the third wheel. But that was ridiculous—she was no third wheel.

  “Dane, we need to talk business for a minute.” She reached out and took his arm—the one next to Angelique and practically ripped him from her grasp. She said over her shoulder, “Business.”

  They walked in the direction of the terrace. Shana felt hot. She really did need some air.

  “Someone needs to keep an eye on Angelique you know,” he said. But he didn’t mind being dragged to the terrace by a hot and bothered Shana.

  “Shut up. I want her to steal the jewels. It’s the only way we’ll catch her. In the act.”

  “Then let’s go up to the bedroom—“

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I—“

  “You’re as bad as Gable—“

  Those are not words he wanted to hear. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh nothing. We can’t hide in the bedroom to catch her. She would know and she wouldn’t steal anything. She’s not an idiot.”

  “That leaves the balcony. It would be tricky,” he said. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

  “What about the cameras?”

  “They’re not night vision cameras. If the thief dressed in black, they could stay fairly invisible.”

  “So you think the Portuguese speaking man—“

  “Portuguese speaking? What the hell are you talking about?” He hoped the hell she wasn’t saying what he thought she was saying.

  “I heard the suspected accomplice speaking Portuguese.”

  He took a beat to calm his pulse. They both knew it couldn’t be the Tavares family.

  “It’s a coincidence, Shana.”

  She nodded. “Has to be.”

  “Yes, I think he left early because he was going to climb up the balcony and break into the open doors.” He looked in the direction of the master bedroom window. He saw nothing, but too much time had gone by. He was long gone if he’d done it.

  “It’s probably futile, but let’s take a walk around back.”

  Chapter Six

  By the time the party was over it was almost morning. Dane shut the door of Angelique’s taxi and watched the car pull away. Then he went back inside the house to find the Gables and Shana waiting.

  “I think the night was a roaring success,” Bill Gable said.

  “And no robberies,” Mrs. Gable smiled. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Hold that thought. Let’s go up and check the safe—to be safe,” Dane said. He took Shana’s arm and squeezed it to prevent her frown from getting any further. They’d spotted the area below the balcony where the accomplice likely climbed up, but they had nothing solid. Cap could send his team to check for prints and evidence but they wouldn’t find anything. He and Shana had checked the surveillance tapes but they saw nothing. They weren’t sure who the hell he was but they were fairly certain he got the jewels. One thing Dane was certain about was that Angelique Dubois had not stolen any jewels that evening.

  “Of course. Let’s go confirm our defeat of the great Martha’s Vineyard Jewel Thief,” Bill Gable took his wife’s hand and they led Dane and Shana up the stairs. Laura Gable giggled.

  “What are we going to tell them?” Shana whispered.

  “We’ll get the jewels back. I’ll get her to talk.”

  “You’ll get her to talk?” Shana’s whisper rose in pitch, but the Gables weren’t paying attention to them as they stumbled ahead into their master bedroom down the hall at the top of the stairs.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt her.”

  She whispered, barely, “It’s not her I’m worried about. While her accomplice was busy stealing jewels, she kept you busy.” She glared at him. He smiled at the sparks in her eyes. He loved those sparks. He felt the jolt of desire then and this was the worst possible time. He tamped down and took her arm, turning his attention to their clients.

  The Gables were in the room and Bill was deftly spinning the lock on the safe door when he and Shana walked in. He felt Shana’s nerves.

  “Mr. Gable—” she said.

  Dane tugged on her arm and leaned his head to whisper in her ear. She tugged away from him, but he tugged back, ignoring the stab between his shoulders paining him at her resistance. He should be used to it.

  He said, “Don’t worry.”

  Mrs. Gable hovered to one side and Mr. Gable stepped to the other, looked over his shoulder at Dane and Shana and the swung the door open with a flourish.

  “Voilà —the jewels.”

  Mrs. Gable sucked in a swift breath and brought her hands to her mouth. Mr. Gable frowned and turned to look into the safe.

  Dane made no reaction and held Shana’s arm. Shana, to her credit, held herself stoically in check while she no doubt calculated the loss in fees in her head that they would suffer when the Gables fired them.

  The safe was empty. No jewels.

  No one spoke.

  Dane said, “We’ll get your jewels back.”

  Mr. Gable turned to him and folded his arms, speechless for a moment.

  Then he said, “You’d better get them back—if you want to get paid.”

  Dane nodded, grabbed Shana and they took off as the sun was coming up. But they didn’t drive back to the beach shack, they drove to the airport.

  “What are you thinking?” Shana said.

  “She’s taking off because there’s no way she can—”

  “You don’t even know if she has the jewels,”

  “Oh yes I do.”

  “Now who’s jumping to conclusions?”

  “Her or her accomplice. Same difference. I did my homework and came to a well-considered and well-reasoned conclusion. She’s here on behalf of her uncle. She’s here as a taunt.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “She had no jewelry on. She came in the back door and spoke to no one but me.”

  “So? Her accomplice came separately.”

  “She knew we were coming here tonight so she made it a point to be at this soiree. And she sabotaged my earpiece tonight so we couldn’t communicate.. ”

  Shana’s mouth was open but it took her moment to speak.

  “When were you going to tell me about the earpiece?”

  “And ruin the surprise?”

  “You should have—”

  “Ditched her to talk to you and prevented the robbery? Like you said. We needed to catch them red-handed. You are not at your best when you have an ax to grind.”

  She shut up. He could tell she knew he was right. He could feel her anger rising, could see the perspiration glisten on her bronze skin and the dawn light gleam off her blond-streaked hair.

  At the airport they talked to security and called Cap to get them access to surveillance films. Shana talked to the tower people and found out that there were no charters or private jets or helicopters or small planes that had taken off in the last two hours. There had been no commercial flights for the past four hours.

  “If she left the island, she did it by private boat,” Shana said as they walked back to the Jag.

  “Maybe she’s still on the island,” he said.

  “Where is she staying?”

  “I don’t know—somewhere in Edgartown.”

  Shana scowled at him. He sighed. He had not found out where she was staying—hadn’t done his job. He hadn’t taken it seriously enough.

  “Who was seducing whom tonight?” she said, but there was no heat in her words.

  “Let’s go.”

  They drove to Edgartown and Dane
called Cap again to see if he had any intel on where Angelique was staying. He didn’t.

  “What now, Sherlock?” Shana raised a brow at him. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or happy to be gloating at his rare screw-up.

  “I have an idea.”

  They stopped at the exclusive dress shop where they’d run into her and Dane convinced Emma to tell them where they had delivered Angelique’s purchase from the day before.

  Dane and Shana banged on Angelique’s door at the Admiral’s Inn. Shana wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, but she didn’t have any better alternatives. Angelique answered the door all sleepy and in a white filmy robe, but she let them in. Shana watched Dane stalk around the room, searching the drawers and bags.

  “What the hell are you doing? Mon dieu, are you mad?”

  Angelique swore at him in French and Shana jumped in to keep her away from Dane as best she could as he finished his search.

  “Where are they?”

  “What are you talking about? You’re insane.”

  “You stole the jewels from the Gables’ house during the party tonight. I don’t know what you did with them or what you’re planning next, but I’ll figure it out. I’ll find the jewels and I’ll catch you cold.”

  “Impossible. I don’t have any jewels. I know nothing about what you—”

  “Oh shut up,” Shana said. She took Dane’s arm and pulled him toward the door. He’d done the same to her more times than she should forgive him for. He went along.

  Shana had hardly ever seen Dane blow his cool. It was one of the most unsettling things she’d experienced when it had happened before. But this time, it was surprising and unsettling in a different way.

  “You’re slipping.” Cap said. Shana had been thinking it. Dane nodded agreement.

  “You shouldn’t agree. Where’s your pride?”

  “Don’t you worry, girlie. It was a one-time-only slip. The kind that makes me more determined. You didn’t think I’d let it defeat me, did you? Didn’t think I’d let her defeat me?”

  “No.” She hoped he couldn’t read her uncertainty. But of course he could. He stared at her for a few beats in silence with his cool granite face—or what passed for it in the sweaty heat of Cap’s office.

  She turned away from Dane and said, “When the hell are you going to get your AC fixed?”

  “As soon as the heat wave breaks, I expect. We’re low on the list for the technicians. We don’t pay a premium for special treatment. Besides, enduring the heat is good for building character.”

  “Shana needs some character building. She’s got some things to learn. Like having faith in her partner, for one.” Dane spoke to Cap and his voice was light, but she felt the hurt underneath. It might be her guilty conscience, but what if she had hurt his feelings by doubting him? She couldn’t wrap her head around it, so she shook it off.

  She scoffed and gave him the finger.

  Dane smiled. “There’s my girlie.”

  Red-hot warmth spread through her. He could see right through her, down to the guilty conscience, she could swear.

  “Now what? We track her? We wait till the next party and set a trap?”

  “We won’t have to wait long,” Dane said. “I got a text from our client. His friend and neighbor has a party scheduled for tonight and we’re on—in spite of the theft. I’ve convinced them I have a lead.”

  “Who’s watching Angelique at the Inn?”

  “Pie girl.”

  “Sassy?”

  “She’ll do. But there’s a change of plans for tonight’s party. You’ll need to get another date,” Dane said and tilted his head toward Cap. “You own a tux?”

  “Of course. It might still fit.”

  “What is it? Left over from the prom?” Dane asked.

  Cap laughed and held up his middle finger.

  Shana stood. “Do I have a say in this plan?”

  “No.” Dane stood, fronting her, convincing her. “We need to flush out her accomplice—or whoever the hell he is. There’s something about this story that doesn’t fit together.”

  “You’re going to invite Angelique on a date to a party after you’ve just accused her of being a thief?” Shana said.

  Dane stared. Didn’t speak.

  “To what end? You expect her bring the stolen jewels with her?” Cap said.

  “Exactly. I need her to trust me and confess to having the jewels.”

  “And you think she has the jewels?”

  “ I think it’s personal with her—something about the story—both hers and Jean Luc’s—doesn’t fit together. I made some calls to verify the background story and to double-check on Baylor Bellarine, ” Dane said.

  “You think Bellarine is the Portuguese speaking man?”

  Dane didn’t answer. He didn’t bother trying to explain his instinct that something was out of focus—he had no explanation. He walked to the door and called over his shoulder.

  “See you tonight, Cap.” He turned at the door and said, “Let’s go, girlie. We have more shopping to do, unless you want to wear the same dress two nights in a row.”

  “I already have a dress. You have some work to do on your mark.” She sat on the edge of Cap’s desk and crossed her legs.

  He studied her. She was inscrutable and that wasn’t a good sign.

  She was giving him permission to seduce Angelique—his mark. That rankled him to a ridiculous degree. It made him want to shake her. He kept his hands at his sides and forced himself to remain in the door, to not go to her, to not drag her from the office. Away from Cap. He turned to Cap, feeling his chest tighten. Cap would never betray Dane. But Shana... he wasn’t sure if Shana knew that.

  “Don’t let me stop either of you,” Cap said.

  Dane gave Cap the finger before he strode out the door.

  “Do you want to know why I came here to Martha’s Vineyard?” Angelique walked into her room at Admirals Inn ahead of Dane. “Not that I should be speaking to you after your horrible accusations.” Her pure white skin glowed in the dim light. The shades were down and the air conditioning was cranked up, but a slight sheen covered her skin like dew on flower petals.

  He closed the door behind him and leaned on it, offering her a half smile. He watched the playful twinkle in her eyes. She was young. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five—younger even than Shana—in more ways than one in spite of her sophistication and her pretense at being hardened.

  “Why?” He stood watching her. He reached out and touched her hair. It was soft and fine like baby hair. He tamped down on the churn of guilt. He had nothing to be guilty about. He reached out and turned on the light switch.

  “I came because the Dane Blaise who Jean Luc spoke of was the kind of man I was looking for. You were like that fairytale hero I’d always dreamed of as a girl—only you were real—or supposed to be real. I had to find out for myself if you were.” She leaned forward resting against his chest. Then she tiled her face to kiss his mouth with her soft cool lips, so different from Shana’s. He closed his eyes and commanded himself to stop comparing, to reinforce his professional mantle. This was all part of the job, doing what he needed to do. Shana had given him her damn permission.

  He scoffed at himself—this was about some missing jewels of a few rich people and at least partly for their amusement. This wasn’t about the kinds of things he usually put aside his soul and his heart for—like life and death and the misery of human trafficking or torture by warlords or tyrannical governments. This case hardly justified him lifting a finger, let alone pretending at romance with the likes of Angelique Dubois. There was no cause for him to risk his integrity. Assuming he had any when it came to romantic entanglements. He pushed all the thoughts aside and pushed her.

  “I know you’re young, but you didn’t come here because of some girlish notions put in your head by Jean Luc.”

  “He also told me he couldn’t believe that you were the kind of man that would settle on this small island for long. He said th
ere was a rogue in your heart, that you were a renegade, not a true law-enforcement soul.” She paused for a moment and then asked him with her brown eyes impossibly wide and innocent looking. Even though he knew it was an act for his benefit, his body responded.

  “Is it true that you were once a gun for hire?”

  “What if I said yes?”

  “I would believe you. You have that delicious need to ‘save the damsel in distress’ and I can see you being drawn into all kinds of such missions.” She sighed. He raised one brow.

  “You can see how I was drawn into this venture to meet you in the flesh, to see for myself,” she continued.

  “Not really. What I see is that you’re not telling me far more than you are telling me.”

  She laughed and stroked his face in that way she had. It was a compelling habit. He waited for her to continue. He had time. If there was an agenda in her back pocket, he doubted he was in any danger. There were no kidnap victims and no mad cartel members after him. And Shana was getting her coveted serious money case. He shouldn’t feel this uncomfortable.

  But the nagging thought that there was something he was missing never left him, whether from the well-learned habits of self-preservation or some immediate need, he didn’t know. He took a long deep breath, too big to be called a sigh.

  Looking over her shoulder, he spotted a guitar in the corner of the room. She turned and said, “You play?”

  “You?”

  She laughed. She went and took the acoustic guitar from its perch and sat on the bed. Then she sang. Something French and sweet as she strummed the cords. When she finished he clapped.

  Then she held out the guitar to him. He told himself to forget about it, but the excitement of temptation, of a moment out of time, a time that didn’t count in his life, buzzed and built until he stepped forward and sat next to her on the bed. She watched him and said nothing. No cajoling. She knew. Somehow she knew it was a hard choice, and a mindless leap at the same time.

  Because she didn’t force it, he took the guitar from her, putting aside the years of abstinence, pain and longing in the flick of a switch. The instant he felt the weight and curve of the wood in his hands, skimmed his fingers down the strings, he felt the trench of loss. All the lost songs, the lost time. The loss of his father who shared his music with Dane who gave Dane his first and only guitar. He took a deep shaky breath and played. And sang.