Phantom Pearl

by Monica McCabe

  Weariness sank into her bones, and she closed her eyes as a deep yawn took over. She almost laid her head down on the table, but glanced back at the couch instead. She gave up the fight, retrieved her phone, and headed over.

  Dallas followed her to the cozy seating area while scrolling his contacts for a number.

  “You aren’t going to tell them, are you?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “If they don’t know what we’re up to, they have plausible deniability. I’m doing them a favor. They just don’t know it yet.”

  A strategy that might save his job if they were successful, but didn’t take into account her original intent to deliver the Pearl to Kai. No matter how furious she was at him, could she honestly find it in herself to deny him freedom?

  She was far too tired to come to any conclusion.

  It was almost one-thirty in the morning Singapore time. Dallas would be calling Seattle, a fifteen-hour time difference. That meant it was ten-thirty yesterday morning there. Same for California where Kai would be at home, putting a plan to assist into play despite the fact she had declined. Not that he ever did the assisting himself. He liked to have available back-up should the need arise.

  She yawned.

  Dallas started casually pacing in front of the fireplace, and she curled her bare feet up on the couch to watch. She’d reached the end of her stamina, and he still moved with an easy, fluid stride. They were facing a tense situation and steamrolling into illegal territory, and he was all calm and relaxed. Was that his coping mechanism?

  Before now, the only side of him that she’d known was the take-charge federal agent, but the past few days had introduced her to someone different. Someone she hadn’t expected. He was every kind of wrong for her, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to know more about him. What was he like at home? What did he enjoy the most? What about his favorite color? Dog or cat person? She was curious about the mundane things that made up his everyday life.

  She’d probably never learn any of it. There were only a handful of hours left before she had to face a choice she never dreamed she’d ever have to make. Loyalty ran deep in her veins, and breaking it wasn’t something she took lightly. Doing so came with consequences. It didn’t matter that she now believed her loyalty to Kai had been misplaced. He had been good to her. Her heart said he’d truly cared about her, and that couldn’t be faked. Not for fourteen years.

  Her head fell back against the couch as a sense of melancholy gripped her. She’d always been straightforward, had a purpose, a goal. She despised wavering, hated uncertainty, but something inside her was changing. The part of her that wanted a different life was growing stronger, but the part of her that wanted revenge kept fighting.

  Her eyes grew heavy under the weight of indecision. She sighed and let them drift closed for a second or two.

  Next thing she knew, morning light streamed in through the windows. She opened her eyes and discovered a pillow beneath her and a couch quilt spread over top of her. It didn’t take long to realize that Dallas had taken care of her.

  That small gesture of comfort from him warmed her insides far more than the blanket. She hadn’t known such thoughtful regard since the days her mother had tucked her into bed at night, or the times her father had wrapped her in a soft throw on chilly, rainy days. That had been another lifetime ago. She’d forgotten the glow it created inside.

  A sudden stab of longing hit her, and she fought against it. She had no business wanting what she couldn’t have. Wishing for anything different only led to torment. Too bad she was already there. She had an unreasonable, self-indulgent, irresistible craving for a federal agent. But the cost was too high, and there was no middle ground.

  Let Dallas have the Pearl and cost Kai his freedom, or give Kai his freedom and cost Dallas his job. How did anyone make that kind of choice?

  She threw off the quilt and sat up. The house was quiet, but she could hear coffee brewing in the kitchen. It signaled the start of a day that would make or break her future, and she had no clear indication which way the wind blew.

  A steaming cup of coffee appeared beside her, and she looked up at Dallas standing behind the couch.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  She smiled and accepted the coffee. “Thank you. For the pillow and blanket, too.”

  He nodded. “I hope you got some rest because today is going to be nonstop. I’ve already made arrangements for two cargo vans to meet us at the airport’s freight terminal. We need to leave in about an hour.”

  “When this is over,” she replied after a sip of coffee, “I’m taking the longest vacation of my life. I’m going to sleep until noon, get up, then lie on a beach and sleep some more.”

  “I had no idea you were that lazy,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, I keep it on a leash most of the time.”

  “We need to talk,” he said as he circled the couch to sit beside her.

  “Uh oh.” He had a serious tone that said it was time to stop sitting on the fence, but she wasn’t ready to make a decision. “You breaking up with me?”

  He didn’t even crack a smile. “We’ve been at odds for a long time. The last few days our goals have aligned, but what happens when this is over?”

  Her fingers tightened around the warm mug. “You mean what happens to the Pearl.”

  “It needs to be resolved. We’re going into battle, and you’ve left me stranded before. Now here we are again. Tell me you aren’t planning another hit and run.”

  She deserved that. One night of incredible lovemaking would not change his judgment of what had been her standard operating procedure.

  “You saved my life in Queensland.” It was a karmic debt she couldn’t ignore. “I’m with you until the end. I promise. I’ll talk to you before acting.”

  She meant that. It was a complicated situation, and no matter what she did, someone was going to be hurt.

  “I need more than that.” Dallas set his coffee on the end table. “What are you going to do about Kai Menita?”

  “Do? You ask that like I have choice.”

  “You do. Don’t go down with him, Riki. Break away.”

  It was too much. Coffee, quilts, and now genuine concern. She didn’t understand any of it. “I don’t get it. Why do you care?”

  “I didn’t, not at first. I wanted you stopped. It was a game, one I perpetually lost, and you turned into a challenge.” He heaved a long sigh. “I can’t pinpoint when that began to change. Maybe when I realized that, even as strong as you are, you were being used as a pawn.”

  Why hadn’t she seen it? Part of her success was an ability to read people. How had she been so blind when it came to Kai?

  She glanced down at the mug still in her hands. “If you had been manipulated for years by someone you trusted, what would you do?”

  “I honestly don’t know. Maybe exactly what you’re doing now—weighing the options and struggling to make an impossible decision. He’s in bed with the Yakuza and on the edge of catastrophe, Riki. From where I sit, it looks unavoidable. One side or the other will take him out. You don’t deserve to share that end. Despite all we’ve been through, I can’t step aside and watch you fall.”

  She appreciated his sense of chivalry. What woman wouldn’t? But she didn’t need rescuing. She intended to sever her ties with Kai because, honestly, there was no way to continue a relationship after learning his involvement in her father’s murder. But this was something she had to handle on her own. One on one. She wanted to hear what he had to say before she handed him the prize, or denied him what he desperately sought.

  “I deserve an explanation, Dallas, and I won’t find one by walking away.”

  “You’re aware that confronting him could be life-threatening? He’s under the thumb of some very dangerous people. They won’t allow him to walk away. You either.”

>   She’d considered it. Kai kept her in the dark about Sakura and his people, claimed it was to protect her. But she’d wager they probably knew everything about her, right down to her favorite shade of nail polish. It was a little disconcerting.

  “That night in the plane, Craig said Sakura is Koyo Yakuza. If they own Kai, then he’s in serious trouble. I’m not the kind of person to turn my back on a friend. Even one who betrayed me. I wouldn’t be where I’m at now if not for him.”

  “What place is that, Riki?” He didn’t sound mad, just mystified. “Because the way I see it, he’s squeezed you between the radar of federal authorities and the wrath of a criminal organization.”

  She couldn’t deny it. She had seen it coming, but blindly continued on the path because she believed in Kai. At least, that’s how she had justified it to her conscience. Reality wasn’t so altruistic. She liked the satisfaction that came with each blow delivered in the name of her father. She also liked hunting down artifacts and beating her opponents at the game. What did that say of her character?

  “I want to hear Kai explain before I condemn him,” she replied. “It’s the honorable thing to do.”

  “Honor is a funny thing. It’s not a one-way street. The debt that’s owed is not yours, and the fate of Phantom Pearl hangs in the balance.” Dallas stood and reached out a hand to assist her up. “I need to trust you.”

  She hesitated. The gesture seemed more than gentlemanly manners. By putting her hand in his, she essentially agreed to bind them together. Without terms, but with an expiration date. When this was over, they’d go their separate ways. Maybe she truly was a fool because, temporary or not, she wanted it.

  She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. “It works both ways, Dallas.”

  “Meaning?” He hadn’t let go of her hand.

  He stood inches from her, tempting her to step closer, to seal their pact with a kiss designed to put any doubt to rest.

  But that, too, would only be fleeting. After this was over, he would go back to Seattle and Homeland Security, and she’d be the one left stranded. Karmic balance, payment for all the times she’d walked away.

  “The last time I trusted you,” she stated matter-of-factly, “I got handcuffed to a bed.”

  He laughed out loud, and his eyes did that twinkle thing she loved. “You have to admit you deserved that one.”

  “Maybe, but what is there to make me think you won’t do that again? This time with Phantom Pearl in hand?”

  He sobered quickly. “I’ll promise you if you’ll promise me.”

  “Do you have any chocolate chip cookies?”

  “No,” he said with a frown. “But I have bagels and cream cheese over by the coffee pot. Will they work in a pinch?”

  “Are they cinnamon raisin?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then I’d say yes.”

  Chapter 26

  Changi Airfreight Centre was a megaplex of global shipping and efficient customs operations. It was every bit as large and luxurious as the passenger terminals and divided into sections. Coolport for refrigerated shipments, Logistics for courier express services, and Freeport, for fine art and valuables, and where they currently were overseeing the loading of Howe’s most prized treasure pieces.

  Two heavily fortified cargo vans sat backed up to a loading dock and waiting, as one by one, each boxed or crated piece that left the secure vault went through a systematic inspection by a customs agent before being loaded onboard.

  Dallas had a clipboard of shipping documents, and he worked the list as each item made it inside a van. Heaven help them should something come up missing. Mathis Howe would revoke his agreement, kill their access to the embassy, and inflict bodily harm just for good measure.

  For the moment, though, they stood alone, the airport staff busy retrieving the next lot.

  “How can you stand it?” Riki asked.

  She’d dressed for the Singapore heat in shorts, lightweight sneakers, and a tank top inside an unbuttoned short-sleeved cotton top that bore the logo of a local delivery company. It didn’t seem to matter what she wore. Knock-out dress or jungle gear, fancy hairstyle or simple braid, everything about her screamed sexy to him.

  He loved watching her. The agile way she moved, how those lips curved so perfectly when she smiled, even the way she held back to calculate strategy. Oscar had been right. This woman had him twisted inside out. He didn’t care. He wanted her, and there was no way he’d lose her to an ill-fated past.

  “Stand what?” he finally asked. “That almost every piece in that van is stolen artwork?”

  “Doesn’t it make you itch to do something about it?”

  “Sure it does. You have to keep your eye on the greater good. I’ll eventually bring this pipeline down. I’ve already got a detailed list of contraband.” He tapped the clipboard.

  “Dallas likes to take things annoyingly slow,” Layla said as she exited the back of a van. “I prefer fast and direct. In. Out. Done.”

  An approach that seemed to work for her, but came with too much risk for him. He preferred thorough and well-planned over seat-of-your-pants luck.

  “How many did you get tagged?” Dallas asked Layla.

  “Half a dozen.” She unzipped a small bag and dropped in a tiny tracking device. “Thanks to customs inspection, any trace of my opening the crates is covered. In a few days, we should have the location of Howe’s warehouse.”

  She pocketed the bag as another wooden crate came out of the vault, this one about the size of a painting and clearly marked fragile.

  While vault workers slid it onto a large metal table and got busy prying open the lid, Layla headed for the vans. Riki gravitated toward the newly opened container and Dallas followed.

  She made a choking sound as he stepped up beside her. “It’s a Pissarro,” she whispered.

  He checked the list. “Boulevard Montmarte. Part of the Twilight Collection.” He looked over at her, impressed she had instantly recognized it. “You know your art.”

  She shook her head. “Just certain pieces.”

  Mathis Howe chose that moment to enter the bay through the wide double doors of the customs office. He immediately joined them at the table. “Ahhh…the Pissarro. I’m particularly proud of that painting,” he said. “The artist painted several series during his time in France. The Grand Boulevards are my favorite.”

  Howe showed up a half hour before their planned time. Dallas had expected him to deliver their passes for the embassy, but if he thought to trip them up with a preemptive visit to Changi’s cargo handling, then the surprise was on him.

  Dallas tapped his watch. “You’re early.”

  “Why wait?” he replied. “I had the passes. Thought I’d check in on my favorite transport team.”

  “Why, it’s Mr. Howe.” Layla’s voice implied absolute delight at seeing him again. She’d come up behind them as they’d admired the painting, and when Howe turned to face her, she lightly pushed against his chest with one flashy red fingernail. “You scoundrel, I do believe you enjoy being unpredictable.”

  “Ms. Sanchez,” Howe said guardedly. “I could say the same for you. What an unexpected pleasure.”

  Why the hell couldn’t Layla think things through before jumping in? Would it kill her for once to keep a low profile? Howe was already skittish. He knew Layla from Sango Art Gallery. Her connection to Dallas had been unknown until thirty seconds ago.

  “Oh, lah,” Layla said with a smile meant to disarm. “You are not fooling me. A man as connected as you already knew I worked with Dallas.”

  The seductress was using his clout to get her foot in the door. Dallas didn’t know whether to be furious or impressed.

  “Of course,” Howe said, but turned an appraising eye toward Dallas. “For a man who stays behind the scenes, you seem to be surrounded by beautiful women. I
believe I’m envious of your incredible luck.”

  Dallas shrugged. “A strong network requires a vast array of skills. Layla’s is obvious. Her fatal charm can be classified as a weapon.”

  “Dallas exaggerates,” Layla said with a little pout. “Truth is… I adore working with him. He’s so…profitable.”

  She delivered the jibe with a flirty smile that bordered on unpleasant. He wanted to fire off a comeback, but now wasn’t the time to exchange barbs. The Pissarro cleared customs and had been resealed.

  Riki pointed the workers to the appropriate van, then faced Howe. “We expect to arrive at the embassy no later than one-thirty this afternoon,” she said. “There’s a lot to do before tonight’s big event. You’ve cleared our entry?”

  “This one is all business, yes?” Howe said to Dallas.

  “It’s why we work well together.”

  Their benefactor reached into an inner pocket and pulled out an envelope. “This will get you through the gates and into an underground parking garage. The rest is up to you.”

  Riki accepted the gate pass with a polite nod of thanks. “I look forward to seeing your collection. I assume you’ll wish to have final approval of your exhibit? Will you arrive early at the embassy as well?”

  “I’m more worried about how exactly you’ll put the brakes on Cho.” He glanced between Riki and Dallas. “This exhibit is important to me. I’m taking a risk giving you open access when I know there’s an axe to grind against the Yakuza.”

  He had good reason to be concerned. This job wasn’t going to end well for him, but that was inside information Dallas didn’t intend to share.

  “If all goes according to plan,” Dallas began, “Cho will not realize his prize is missing until it’s too late. He’ll be angry, but Imperial ties prevent him from making a scene. He won’t risk political disfavor, not when he’s using their influence to return home without delay.”