Thief of Always

by Kim Baldwin

The Setarehe Abi Rang was worth a fortune, the kind of prize a collector would pay a large sum for. The money shouldn’t go to her, and the stone shouldn’t vanish into some illicit collection. It rightly belonged to the people of Afghanistan from whom it had been stolen by an unworthy ruler. Rafi was mystified by Qadir’s insistence that all further inquiries be left to the government, effectively shutting him out. Who was better qualified to ascertain the truth than he, a loyal Afghan and one of the world’s foremost experts in this field? And he was the only one who had actually seen the countess’s stone. Surely there was more he could do to secure a just outcome. This was, after all, a matter of national pride.

  Chapter Eleven

  Haarlem, Netherlands

  Allegro did a thorough check of the rear exterior of the mansion, searching with her penlight for the hidden way to the vault, but the ancient brick wall was unmarred. She wandered among the topiary, trying to make sense of the cryptic clue she’d gleaned from Hans Hofman’s conversation with Kris. Very clever of him to put the new entrance through the garden. On her second pass by the shed, it hit her. Was it possible that this was the way to the secret room? Through a tunnel? Jesus. Staring her right in the face all this time. She tried the door. Locked. It took her no time to get inside the small storage building, which was crowded with gardening tools and bags of potting soil, clay pots, and hoses.

  She found the hidden trapdoor beneath the wide rubber mat at the back. It was padlocked, no challenge at all for her talents. Elation mixed with dread. She was about to accomplish her mission, but she’d have to leave as soon as she secured the diamond. The thought made her limbs feel leaden as she returned to the house to fetch her tools. She hated sneaking off without saying good-bye. The memory of Kris’s lips on hers flashed into her mind.

  When she got to her room, she spared herself a moment to look longingly at the bed before digging through her duffel for her stethoscope and gloves. She was exhausted to the bone, but dawn was approaching and sleep was a luxury she could not afford. Forcing herself back downstairs, she made her way through the kitchen and out the back door.

  She’d taken only a few steps toward the shed when she heard the crunch of tires on the gravel drive. Darting back inside, she peered through the window and was startled to see Jeroen’s van pull up. Damn. She took off her jacket and ditched the stethoscope and gloves in one of the pockets as he exited the vehicle with a large bucket in his hand.

  “You’re here awfully early this morning,” she said as he came through the door.

  “Angie,” he replied, surprised. “I told Kris you didn’t need to start until our usual time.”

  “You talked to Kris?”

  “Yes, I told her I needed to leave early today for another job, so I’d make up the time this morning. She didn’t tell you?”

  “No, actually I just got home. I was in Amsterdam.”

  Jeroen smiled. “Hope it was fun. You look like hell.”

  “I’ve been getting that a lot lately,” she replied, stifling a yawn.

  “Why don’t you get a few hours’ rest?” he suggested.

  “Sure you don’t mind?” She was aggravated at not being able to immediately retrieve the diamond, but it was prudent she get some sleep since she’d have to make another attempt that night.

  “Go,” he said, shooing her with a dismissive gesture.

  Halfway up the stairs, her cell phone rang with an update from Monty Pierce. She took the call, stripping off her clothes as she listened, but when it was done she was still too edgy and frustrated to sleep. She took out her camera and skimmed through the additional diary pages she’d photographed. It was dull reading, mostly a recounting of Jan van der Jagt’s wartime exploits and later business affairs with no further mention of the diamond. She got the distinct impression the man had been a self-involved narcissist, as there were few mentions of his wife and daughter.

  She stashed the camera in her duffel bag and closed the curtains, her mind churning with thoughts of Kris. She pondered what had made her the way she was—always guarded and often melancholic. Kris had obviously led a privileged life, getting whatever she wanted, coming and going as she pleased, exploiting all the possibilities available to her. Such a different existence from her own. So many more options. Most of her life, Allegro had had to get permission for her every move. Everything she did and said was monitored and analyzed.

  Yet all of Kris’s opportunities didn’t seem to have brought peace or real happiness. She didn’t appear to be contented or fulfilled. A closer look into her background helped explain why. With a self-centered father and a mentally sick mother, she must have had the freedom to do as she pleased, but only because they didn’t care. She didn’t appear to have many friends and hardly ever received phone calls. Except for that one time on the bridge, she seemed haunted by something. Sure, she took her teasing well and never shied away from a response, but Allegro could tell such interactions made her uneasy, almost suspicious, and Kris was quick to put an end to them.

  Although she’d known her only a few days and Kris hadn’t gone out of her way to be particularly friendly, Allegro sensed her standoffishness was almost beyond her control. Every time Kris got close to opening up and relaxing around her, she’d immediately close up again and go back to her defensive and distrusting self. What was she trying to hide? What was she running from? She’d been through a lot lately with the death of her father and losing her fortune, but what Allegro saw in Kris’s eyes was not the pain of recent mourning. It went a lot deeper. Whatever it was that had made Kris so wary and troubled had been with her long enough to form her.

  She shouldn’t care, and she wasn’t in the habit of trying to read people for personal reasons, but Kris intrigued her in a way that was new. She didn’t have the luxury of being able to put time and effort into solving the mystery that was Kris, but she was unable to stem her curiosity. Was Kris so compelling merely because of her looks? Allegro met plenty of beautiful women, but none made her want to find out what was going on beneath the attractive exterior. She didn’t have those answers.

  Surrendering finally to her exhaustion, she dozed until a noise from below awakened her. The bedside clock informed her it was after eleven, so she forced herself out of bed and into a shower. The thought of spending another long day of house repairs while she had so much to do, and so many questions to answer, made her long to be back at Silverstone, racing through the turns. Life made sense when she was behind the wheel of a Ferrari F2008, where she could, for the most part, control how fast she got to the finish line. The track had predictable twists and turns, and her mastery over the 900-horsepower monster beneath her allowed her to maximize her rate of acceleration. In her work as an operative, she hated being at the mercy of so many human variables and having to move at a pace dictated by others.

  Dressing in her work clothes, she headed downstairs. She hadn’t heard Kris’s car drive up and was relatively certain she hadn’t come back, but she was still disappointed to find only Jeroen’s van parked outside. Was Kris too tipsy to remember their kiss on the bridge? Had Allegro been the only one affected by it? Kissing a woman as part of her job was a practiced chore. She never expected to get as caught up in the moment, but something odd had happened. She wasn’t sure if it was the romantic setting or her physical attraction to Kris, but had the circumstances been different she knew she would not have ended the evening alone in bed. Although Kris had made it clear that their explorations were at an end, a part of Allegro wished she had wanted to come back to the mansion immediately and pick up where they’d left off. She found it hard to accept that her feelings were completely one-sided.

  When she reached the front room, she greeted Jeroen with a pleasant, “Good morning.” He was on a ladder, busily patching plaster on the ceiling.

  “That your car outside?” he asked.

  “Yes. A rental.” She set another ladder in place beneath the high ceiling.

  “I wondered where Kris was.”

&
nbsp; “She stayed in Amsterdam last night,” she told him. “But I thought she’d be back by now.”

  “Hate to work without her since she seems to think we need her supervision.” He chuckled. “I don’t know why she bothers to watch. She doesn’t know anything about restoration.”

  “It’s her money, I guess.”

  He shrugged. “It’s you she’s watching. Probably thinks a woman can’t handle this type of work, but you seem to know what you’re doing.”

  Allegro wondered what Jeroen would think of some of the things she’d put her body through while on assignment. “It helps that I try to stay fit. I’m used to hard work.”

  For the next several minutes, they labored mostly in silence, allowing Allegro the opportunity to consider her options regarding Gunter Schmidt. Her call from the EOO had contained the useful information that Schmidt was registered at a small hotel in Haarlem. As soon as she had the diamond she would pay him a visit and ensure the clumsy stalker was no further threat to Kris.

  Shortly after noon, acute now to every small nuance of noise from outside, she heard the crunch of tires on gravel and began to relax, releasing knots of tension from her shoulders. She descended her ladder and wiped her hands clean on a rag. “Kris is back,” she told Jeroen. “I’m going to make a pot of coffee.”

  She paused in the hallway on her way to the kitchen, waiting for the front door to open. Kris walked in wearing the same charcoal slacks and dove gray silk blouse from the night before, but her ensemble was rumpled and her face wore the slight puffiness of her overindulgence.

  “Need coffee?” Allegro asked, sounding more chipper than she felt.

  Kris walked past without responding and took a few steps toward the room they’d been working on, then stood looking around at the repairs, hands on hips, as though determined to ignore her.

  Allegro remained where she was, equally determined to get Kris to acknowledge her. Seconds passed. “Kris?”

  Finally, Kris turned and met her eyes, but only briefly. “Whatever,” she replied dismissively as she resumed her apparent assessment of their work.

  Allegro hesitated, studying Kris’s body language. Although the countess was trying to avoid eye contact and appear her usual distant self, she couldn’t stop herself from the occasional surreptitious glance in Allegro’s direction.

  “Love the enthusiasm,” Allegro said over her shoulder as she continued on toward the kitchen. She filled the coffeepot with water and dug through one of the cabinets in search of a filter. By the time she was measuring out the coffee, she could sense Kris behind her, watching her from the doorway. Without turning around, she asked, “Sleep okay?”

  “Could have been better,” Kris replied wearily.

  “Too much to drink?” Allegro hit the brew button.

  “Everything about last night was too much.”

  Allegro leaned back against the counter with her arms folded over her chest. “Including us?”

  “There is no us.” Her tone was aloof, but Allegro could see the response was feigned. Still avoiding eye contact, Kris shifted her weight restlessly from foot to foot.

  “I’m pretty sure that was you I kissed.”

  “Oh, that.” Kris reached out to pluck a piece of loose paint from the wall at her elbow.

  “Denial, much?” Allegro replied cheekily.

  Kris glared at her. “Not denial. Get over yourself. Why would a kiss be too much?”

  Allegro gave Kris her most charming smile. “Are you saying it wasn’t enough?”

  “What I’m saying is that it was just a kiss.” Kris’s slight stutter suggested she was anything but blasé about their heated exchange the evening before. “Nothing new.”

  “I get that. I realize we didn’t invent the wheel last night, but I’m trying to say I’m sorry if I offended you.” Allegro could see Kris visibly soften, though she tried to mask it immediately.

  Gesturing dismissively, she said, “Like I said, it was just a kiss.”

  The aroma of coffee wafted through the kitchen, and Allegro checked the progress of the brew. The pot was nearly filled. “So, what was too much about last night?”

  “Let’s see.” Kris took a deep breath and let it out. “A heavy discussion with an ex-lover. A strange man staring at me all night, then following us.” Her eyes narrowed. “I still don’t know how to place him. He wasn’t the usual looking-to-get-laid type.”

  Allegro poured two coffees. “Guys are guys. They come in all forms.”

  “I guess.”

  “And what else?”

  Kris studied her face. “Why did you kiss me?”

  “I couldn’t resist,” Allegro said. “What’s your excuse?”

  “I didn’t start it.”

  “But you didn’t stop it either.”

  “I can’t really remember much of what happened,” Kris replied, rubbing her temples.

  “Maybe you should take the day off and get some rest.”

  “And maybe you should get back to work and let me be the judge of that.”

  “Whatever you say.” Allegro handed Kris one of the mugs. She smiled as she looked Kris over, her gaze trailing over the low-cut blouse, the form-fitting slacks, to the charcoal pumps. “Should you choose to come watch, I suggest you change your clothes. And shoes.” She met Kris’s eyes again. “But that’s up to you. If not, we could always use some comic relief.”

  Kris smiled.

  “Looks good on you.”

  “Comic relief?”

  “Smiling.” Allegro headed back toward the living room, but paused a couple of yards away to turn to look back at Kris. “And the heels.”

  She heard a soft laugh behind her as she left to find Jeroen.

  An hour later, Kris joined them, dressed in jeans, Prada boots, and a sweatshirt. “I could help,” she offered. “What would you like me to do?”

  Allegro climbed down the ladder and brushed herself off. “We were just discussing what to tackle next.”

  To her horror, Jeroen walked over to the wall that adjoined the hidden room and ran his hand over a particularly large crack in the plaster at one corner. “You know, this looks like it’ll need more than a quick patch. I bet the framing needs reinforcement. Some water may have gotten to it, maybe from the other side.” He examined the walls enclosing the hidden room. “You hear about this kind if thing but never see it. Like revolving library shelves.” He turned to Kris. “Did you know that this was a fake wall?”

  “Huh? Oh, that. Yeah, it’s an old closet or something.” Kris bit her lip, plainly uncomfortable with the question. “There was a way to get in there from the cellar, but Father sealed that up years ago. We’ll deal with it later. I’m sure there are other things to keep us busy in the interim.”

  “Oh, certainly. I wasn’t suggesting we do it today,” Jeroen said. “But soon. Why don’t you two get started scraping up there,” he suggested, gesturing toward another area of the ceiling that was pitted with peeling paint. “And I’ll mix up another batch of patching compound.”

  Kris helped move the large ladders over and caught the wry look her companions exchanged. Why the hell weren’t they taking her seriously? She went to the toolbox and snatched up one of the tools. How hard could it be?

  She hadn’t taken two steps up the ladder before she began to see what they were sniggering over. The slippery soles of her boots made it almost impossible for her to climb the rungs with any grace at all. She clutched at both sides of the ladder, nearly losing the tool in the process, and inched up one rung at a time. It was as though each step was covered in grease. If she didn’t know any better she might have thought they had deliberately sabotaged her.

  It took a silly amount of time and effort to reach the top, where she came face-to-face with the American, who seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed watching her ungainly ascent. Kris looked down, and then immediately wished she hadn’t. She’d never liked heights. A momentary dizziness overcame her, and her feet started to slip. She clutched at the
ladder for dear life but felt herself beginning to fall. It was only Angie’s arm around her waist that steadied her.

  “Thanks,” Kris said once her breathing had reached normal. She met Angie’s eyes, determined to show confidence. The American winked at her. Winked. She nearly lost her footing again. Ignoring the woman’s warm appraisal, she held up the tool in her hand. “What do I do now?”

  Angie grinned as if she’d said something funny. “Well…”

  The tone seemed laced with innuendo, but Kris could hardly complain about her teasing since the woman had just saved her from a nasty fall. “You said remove the plaster, right?” she asked indignantly.

  “Yup. So why don’t you start by going back down and replacing that screwdriver in your hand with a scraper that’s big enough to actually accomplish something?” Angie broke out laughing and Jeroen joined in.

  Kris looked at the wide scrapers they were holding, comparing them with the tool she’d carelessly picked up. She then stared down again at the incredibly long distance back to the floor. “You could have said something before I climbed up here,” she mumbled.

  Her descent took as long as the climb, as the sound of more raucous laughter rang out. Comedians. She’d never enjoyed being the brunt of a joke, but it didn’t seem to bother her quite so much when Angie teased her. Despite herself, she found something about the American very intriguing. There was a lot more to her than Kris had first thought. Beneath that cocky exterior, she seemed vulnerable and genuinely kind. The night before had certainly been evidence of that, with Angie’s thoughtful offer of a ride home when they ran into each other. Instead of being grateful, Kris had rudely brushed her off. The alcohol had been a factor, and her conversation with Ilse had stirred up old wounds. Kris felt guilty that she’d taken her feelings out on Angie, and even guiltier that Angie had responded to her churlishness by insisting on seeing her safely to her uncle’s.

  The memory of their heated kiss on the bridge flashed into her mind. Though her initial reaction had been to resist Angie’s unexpected and presumptuous advances, the feel of her lips had made that impossible. Just thinking about those few moments of surrender stirred up butterflies in Kris’s stomach.