by Jenni Wiltz
DiMarco’s brown eyes widened, pupils dilated with fear. “Mr. Cherbourg, I swear I don’t do stuff like that anymore! I don’t know anything about it!”
“I beg to differ, Mr. DiMarco. Now you can give me a name….the right name…or I can evict you for being behind on your rent. It’s your choice.”
The thief’s eyes widened with surprise. “How did you know I was—”
“Answer me!” Sébastien shook the man lightly, just to demonstrate how serious he was.
DiMarco gulped and glanced at Ella. Instantly, a raw wave of anger washed over him. How dare he look at her?
Sébastien shook DiMarco harder, forcing the man to look back at him. “Don’t look at her,” he growled. “She can’t help you. I can. Tell me who I need to find.”
A thin sheen of perspiration had broken out over the man’s forehead. He licked his lips and then spoke nervously, a quaver in his voice. “Louie Pasternak. He’s the best jewelry fence in the city. I can’t tell you any more than that.”
“Where can I find him?”
“I just said I can’t tell you anything else!”
Ella cleared her throat. “He’s not a good listener, is he?”
Sébastien swung his head to glare at her. “Stay out of this! I thought I told you to be quiet.” God, did she understand nothing about how dangerous this might be? How could she treat it so lightly?
Ella’s face was pale and tight, but her eyes sparkled with excitement and her voice held none of the shaky fear so evident in DiMarco’s. Despite himself, Sébastien began to feel an unwilling admiration for her. The only reason he’d taken her with him was to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t have any further access to his family’s vault without direct supervision. He hadn’t expected her to assume the role of good cop to his bad cop. As twisted as it was, it seemed like both of them might almost be having fun.
Stop it, he ordered. You have to focus. Stop thinking and her and think about the convicted criminal you’re questioning. “I believe I asked you a question, Mr. DiMarco.”
DiMarco’s wide eyes bulged with fear. Sébastien could see thin red veins trace their way across the whites of his eyes. “But Louie hates rats, Mr. Cherbourg! I’ll be in big trouble if I tell you where he is.”
“You’ll be in big trouble if you don’t tell me where he is,” Sébastien said. “You’re living under my roof, Mr. DiMarco. Remember that.”
DiMarco licked his lips again and nodded. “He’s in Hunter’s Point. He has a store on the water, a bait shop. It’s where they dock the cruise ships being repaired.”
“There.” Sébastien released the man and smiled brightly. “Was that so hard?”
DiMarco breathed a sigh of relief. “You won’t tell him anything, will you?”
“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up two fingers in the pledge he remembered from childhood scouting meetings. Then he reached for Ella. “Come on, let’s go.”
*
From the passenger seat, Ella stared straight ahead, unwilling to look at Sébastien. She couldn’t believe the way he had acted—like a spoiled brat, demanding attention. She felt sorry for Mr. DiMarco and everyone else who’d been woken up by Sébastien’s yelling and pounding on doors. Just because he owned the building didn’t mean he owned the people inside it, too.
On the other hand, she’d gotten a thrill by seeing how fearless he was in going after what he wanted. She’d never believed DiMarco would harm either of them—but even if he’d tried, somehow she trusted Sébastien to keep both of them safe. It wasn’t that he seemed overtly dangerous. After all, he wasn’t a professional boxer or CIA agent with combat training. It was just something in the way he carried himself. So sure, so competent, so capable. She was beginning to understand why Sébastien was in charge of the Cherbourg family enterprises.
Ella tilted her head to look at him. “Would you really have evicted Mr. DiMarco?” she asked. “If he didn’t tell you what you wanted?”
Sébastien zoomed through a yellow light, aiming for a street that would take him across Market and down into gritty Hunter’s Point. “Does it matter?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “It always matters.”
“Then no, I suppose I wouldn’t have.”
“You suppose? You didn’t even know for sure?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Ms. Wilcox, we’re making this up as we go.”
“Is this how you run your family’s companies? On a whim?”
He flashed her an amused glance. “The Cherbourgs didn’t get where they are by sitting on their hands all day.”
“And you’re just like them?”
“I’m just like them,” he repeated.
Ella shook her head. “I don’t know whether to admire you or call you an idiot.” He didn’t make sense. How could he act without thinking, especially when he had his family’s good name and fortune to lose? Wouldn’t someone with so much responsibility take the time to make sure his decisions were well-thought-out and responsible? I don’t get it, she thought.
Sébastien pulled the car up to a rickety wharf, directly across from where an enormous cruise ship was docked. Although it was nearing 3 a.m., she could see the bright sparks of welding equipment on the ship’s top deck. The repairmen were working through the night.
She glanced down the wooden wharf and saw a small shack at the end of it. There were neon signs in the windows, but they weren’t lit up. Ella could see a light behind the window blinds. “I guess he’s home,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt. “Let’s go.”
Sébastien held up his hand. “I think you’d better stay in the car for this one.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s why I want you out of the way.”
“No way.” Ella shivered and glanced around the pier. “This is a bad part of town. Do you have any idea how many assaults happen in this neck of the woods? I’m coming with you.”
“Ms. Wilcox, I—”
“Ella,” she said, meeting his olive gaze. “If we’re going to break the law together, you might as well call me by my first name.”
Sébastien’s full lips broke into a smile and she felt her heart flutter. “Who said anything about breaking the law?”
She couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a stirring of warmth in her belly. Good grief, the man was attractive, even when he was being a self-centered jerk. “Oh, come on,” she said. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to search the place. What if the thieves went straight here? Your family’s jewels could be in there right now!”
Sébastien grinned. “Good point. Follow my lead, and don’t say or do anything unless I tell you to.”
“Ask me to,” she corrected.
“Don’t push your luck,” he said, getting out of the car and coming around to unlock her door. Ella smiled. She was frightened about confronting a known criminal, but she was also realizing that Sébastien tended to get what he wanted. Being with him made her feel more secure than she had any right to be. For a night that had started with a robbery, it was shaping up as one of the most interesting and exhilarating of her life.
*
Sébastien held Ella behind him as he pounded on the fence’s door. “Pasternak,” he called. “I know you’re in there.”
He heard swearing and rustling inside. He kept pounding until a thin, pale man with a dark beard and glittering black eyes opened the door. “Who are you? What do you want?” The man spoke with a faint Russian accent.
“My name is Sébastien Cherbourg. I need to ask you a few questions,” he said, shoving his way into the small bait shop. Ella closed the door behind him.
Pasternak stumbled but caught himself quickly. His beady eyes flashed with anger and annoyance. “The shop is closed. We open again at 4 a.m. I’m still stocking the fresh bait.”
Sébastien smiled brightly to disarm him. “I’m not here for bait, Mr. Pasternak. Do you recognize my name?”
“Everyone does,�
� Pasternak said.
“Right,” he said. “Well, I’ve just been robbed. Someone made off with nineteen pieces of my family’s jewel collection and I know the first place they’d come is straight to you.”
“What?” Pasternak gasped. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re the best fence in the city,” he said. “Congratulations on a job well done. But your notoriety means that anyone who wants to sell those jewels will have to go through you. I want you to tell me what you know and whether you’ve seen the jewels yet.”
“Mr. Cherbourg, you’re crazy. I sell bait,” he said, moving over to the side wall and pointing at a price list for worms, minnows and grubs. “I don’t have anything to do with stolen merchandise, let alone your family’s jewels.”
“Oh, but I think you do,” Sébastien said, following close on Pasternak’s heels. The man was breathing heavily and he’d begun to sweat. Even if the jewel thief hadn’t come here, Pasternak was still involved in heavily illegal activities—he’d put money on it.
Sébastien reached out and grabbed Pasternak’s shirt, just like he had with DiMarco. “Ella, take a look around,” he said. “I’m sure Mr. Pasternak won’t mind.”
Ella nodded, her lips pressed together tightly. She began opening drawers and sifting through piles of paper on the table behind the cash register.
“Get out of there!” Pasternak yelled. “What are you doing?”
Sébastien shook the man lightly. “Don’t look at her. Look at me.”
“I don’t know anything about the robbery, I swear. You won’t find anything here!”
“Then there’s no harm in us looking around, is there?” He shifted his gaze to Ella. “How does it look?”
“I don’t see any of the jewels,” she said. “But he can probably give you a great deal on some bootleg DVDs.” She held up a stack of pirated discs, all without cases.
Pasternak struggled in Sébastien’s grip. “You have no right to do this.”
“I have every right to do this!” he roared. “Especially if you’ve lied to me about my family’s jewels. No one steals from me, Pasternak. Do you hear me?”
“But I haven’t stolen from you!” Pasternak wrenched his body violently, breaking Sébastien’s grip. He made a mad dash for Ella, who was still sifting through the contents of the shelves beneath his cash register, hidden from public view. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her aside. “Get away from there!” he cried.
The instant Pasternak touched her, Sébastien felt the flames of Hades burn in his veins. With an angry roar, he launched himself at the man. He flew over the counter, hands open and reaching for Pasternak’s neck. The two of them tumbled to the floor, grappling for position.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Ella get up from where she’d fallen. “Stop!” she cried. “Sébastien, I’m fine!”
But he couldn’t stop. For all he’d known, Pasternak had a gun or a knife that he could have pulled on her. She could be shot, stabbed, or bleeding right now, no thanks to him. He’d been stupid and she was the one who would have paid for his mistake.
He looked down at the weasel-like creature below him, struggling to break free. “If there is a single bruise on her body, I will come back here and thrash you within an inch of your life. If you’ve broken a single bone in her body, I will come back here and burn this place to the ground. Do you understand me?”
Pasternak bared his teeth, anger and hatred gleaming in his eyes. “Yes,” he growled.
“Good.” He got up in one fluid movement, leaving Pasternak to scramble into a sitting position. “If you see those jewels or hear anyone mention them, you find me. You know what will happen to you if you don’t. Do you understand?”
Pasternak nodded.
Ella had come to his side, pulling on the arm of his jacket. “Come on,” she said. “The jewels aren’t here. Let’s go.” Churning with emotion, her blue-gray eyes begged him to take her away from this place.
He still felt the adrenaline and the rage inside him. Left to his own devices, he could have beaten the man to a pulp for what he’d done. But the pressure of her hand on his arm was softly insistent and the fear in her eyes was real. He clenched his fists and kicked the wall, hoping it would relieve some of the urge for revenge still flowing through him.
“Sébastien,” Ella said. “Please.” There were smudges of dust and dirt across her cheek. Seeing them made him angry all over again. How dare that man toss her around like a rag doll when she was with him? And how dare that man take out his frustration on a woman? There was no reason for it. Men settled their differences like men. Reacting with violence toward a woman was contemptible.
He looked back toward Pasternak, now standing behind the cash register counter. The man’s beady eyes raked them up and down. Sébastien felt his hands curl into fists as he took a step towards the counter.
“Sébastien, no,” Ella said. “He’s not worth it.” She pulled him towards the door of the shop and led him back to the car.
The cold night air hit his face with the force of a slap, clearing away some of the adrenaline-induced anger. He looked at Ella, whose cheeks and nose were red with cold. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I fell, that’s all. Let’s just get in the car and get out of here, okay?”
He unlocked her door and opened it for her, tucking the too-large leather coat in beside her before he slammed the door shut. “Stupid,” he said to himself as he rounded the car and came back to the driver’s side.
He had no new information about the stolen jewels, no clue what to do next and a sinking sensation that Ella was somehow responsible for the strange way his brain was making him react to each new situation. He’d already established that she was beautiful and stubborn—and possibly a thief. But now he could see she was also brave, practical, merciful and in far better control of herself than he was.
The more he thought about her, the more he wanted to keep thinking about her. He shook his head to clear it. She might be a thief and a liar. She’s probably after your money. Does the name Amanda ring a bell? No one likes you for who you are, remember? “How could I forget?” he said to himself, hanging his head as he reached for the door handle.
Chapter Six
Ella sank down in her seat as Sébastien sped away from Hunter’s Point. She wrapped her arms around herself to stay warm as she watched the scenery fly by. The gritty industrial warehouses gave way to commercial storefronts as they neared Market Street. Sébastien, noticing her gesture, turned on the heater. “Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t thank me. You could have been hurt and it would have been my fault.”
“But I’m not,” she said. “You can’t possibly feel responsible, can you?”
“Can’t I?” he ground out through gritted teeth.
“You wanted me to stay in the car and I wouldn’t.” She shrugged and felt a twinge of pain in her shoulder—she’d landed heavily on the floor. Her shoulder and hip would be sore for a few days. Still, it had been worth it to see him fly over the countertop and attack Pasternak in her defense.
No one had ever done anything like that for her before. She knew it was ridiculous, but it made her feel wanted, as if Sébastien actually cared about what happened to her. Get a hold of yourself, she commanded. He’d probably attack a valet like that just for scratching his car. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. How could it? You barely know him. Get your head back in the game. He probably still thinks you stole the jewels, remember?
“So what’s our next move?” she asked. “Should we call the cops?”
“Not yet,” he said, concentrating intensely on the road in front of him.
“Why not? Granted, they’ll probably think I’m suspect number one, but still…don’t you think we need some help? We tried and we failed. Let someone else take a crack at this.”
He shook his head
, still focusing on some point in the distance she couldn’t see. “The Cherbourgs and the police don’t always get along.”
“But your family…you’re so important to the community. Why wouldn’t the police be willing to drop everything to help you?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with me. It goes back much further than that. It all started with my great-great-grandfather.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “Are you saying there’s some sort of feud between the Cherbourgs and the SFPD?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s a feud,” he said. “More like a vendetta.”
“What the hell happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She slouched even further in her seat to digest this new piece of information. So there were skeletons in the Cherbourg closet. Ella realized she wasn’t surprised. A family with that much money, influence, and power must have stepped on a few toes to get to the top.
It didn’t seem real, though. She’d been raised to believe the police were dependable and trustworthy, good men and women who would help you if you needed it. Was she just naïve, or was Sébastien seeing ghosts where there were none? Once again, she realized how far apart her world and his world were.
She looked out her side window, wondering why that conclusion made her feel so depressed. As she looked, a black sedan pulled up alongside them, traveling at the same speed—a speed much higher than the legal limit. Suddenly, the driver of the other car swerved towards her.
“Sébastien!” she cried, leaning towards him and away from the window.
“I see it,” he said. He stomped on the brake and the sedan’s swerve met with nothing but empty air.
Ella sat up straight and pointed at the sedan. “They were going to slam right into us!” she cried. “Who is that?”
“I have no idea.” Sébastien pulled up hard on the e-brake and flung the steering wheel around. The car did a clean 180-degree turn, tires smoking with the effort of changing directions. He slammed the gas pedal to the floor and the car’s V-10 engine with 500 horsepower rocketed them off in the opposite direction.
