Phantom Pearl

by Monica McCabe

  “For your sake, I sincerely hope you are correct,” Howe warned. “But take heed, I will not tolerate a disruption at my event. Do not take my acquiescence to your plans as an invitation to create chaos.”

  “Chaos has a purpose, Mr. Howe.” Riki grabbed the pen from Dallas and put a checkmark beside the Pissarro. “But don’t worry. We prefer balance in any operation. We will make every effort to ensure this is a win for us all.”

  “You say not to worry,” he replied, “but I have a lot riding on the outcome of the exhibit. I feel the need to threaten bodily harm should things run amiss.”

  “Come now, Mathis,” Layla said pleasantly as she linked her arm through his. “I may call you Mathis, yes?” At his nod, she continued. “As lucrative as this job is for me, it will soon be over. I’ll be on the market, so to speak.” She winked at Howe. “Perhaps you and I can come to terms.”

  Dallas ground his teeth. She was at it again, wheedling her way into Howe’s organization. Yes, the agency sent her here and, yes, she was only doing her job. But the woman seemed to enjoy aggravating him and never missed an opportunity to dig in.

  Howe didn’t seem to notice, his eyes too filled with speculation. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement. Like Mr. Landry here, I know the value of skilled labor.”

  Layla patted his hand and smiled victoriously. “Of course, we can. Just don’t delay. A woman of my talents won’t remain idle for long.”

  He steered her several steps away, as though to talk in private. “What will Landry think of my stealing you from his team?” A question he asked while clearly in earshot.

  “Oh, lah.” Layla’s smile hovered one step above a gloat as she glanced over her shoulder. “Dallas had his chance. That day in the sun is almost over.”

  Message delivered. Layla’s signature seduction not only deflected Howe’s threats, it also put her right in the heart of his investigation. He hated the way she did that.

  “She’s good,” Riki said from beside him. “Took control of the situation with little more than a smile and a wink. Wish I knew how to do that.”

  Dallas stared at her in alarm. “No, you don’t.”

  “Sure I do. You have to admit that was useful. I’ve never taken anyone out that easy. I should ask her for some pointers.”

  What was happening? He’d rather she battled a deadly cobra than pick up traits from annoying, spiteful, and probably-a-dominatrix, Layla Sanchez.

  He tossed the clipboard into the back of one van and turned her to face him. “You are strong, smart, and tenacious. You think things through before acting. You’re a rare find, and there’s no one else I’d rather have at my back than you.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “When did that happen? I thought you wanted to haul me off to jail for interfering with your successful career.”

  “I did. You’ve been a thorn in my side for far too long. But you’ve outfoxed federal agencies and international crime syndicates. You’re fearless and gutsy and drive me crazy as an agent. But as a partner, I admire and respect that ability.”

  Her lips parted in astonishment, but he meant every word. And there was nothing Layla Sanchez could add that would improve Riki Maddox.

  “Mr. Landry?” came a voice from behind them. “Which van?”

  Dallas released an exasperated breath and turned to face a young man pushing a two-wheel dolly loaded with an awkward wooden crate. “What piece is this?”

  “Yamashita’s stone meditation pagoda.”

  Dallas handed the clipboard to Riki. “Check it off, will you?” Then he helped the aide wheel the dolly into the back of the van.

  “There’s not much left to load,” she said as she flipped pages. When the vault workers disappeared back inside she turned to Dallas. “You were saying… I drive you crazy?”

  “Every day. Never met anyone as maddening as you.”

  “Hmm.” She tossed the clipboard back in the van. “That doesn’t really sound like a compliment.”

  “Consider it more of an endorsement. Two years at odds with you gives me perspective.”

  “What happened to how much you admire me for my brain?” She tapped a finger to her head. “It’s what a girl wants to hear, by the way. Especially when being compared to someone like Layla.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Dallas scoffed. “There’s no comparison.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Gee, thanks.”

  This conversation wasn’t going at all well. He was done with words and took a step toward her. She held her ground, hands on hips and glaring. He took another step closer, lifted her chin with his fingers, and kissed her.

  She leaned into him, and a heady sense of anticipation soared. He took it deeper. The world around him disappeared as he wrapped his arms around her. She fit him perfectly, every soft part of her touched him in exactly the right places.

  Her fingers played with his hair, and she gave a soft, little sigh against his lips. “Much better,” she whispered.

  She was right. Talking got him in trouble. Kissing was much more effective. Riki Maddox didn’t even have to try, just being near her sent his pulse into overdrive. When she gave herself over to his kiss, he lost all rational thought. He was a man condemned.

  “Well, isn’t this interesting,” Layla said behind them.

  Dallas stiffened and Riki withdrew. He didn’t let her go however, and rested his forehead on hers long enough to curse his lack of judgment. They were standing in a customs bay, surrounded by airport personnel, and overseeing the transfer of Howe’s valuables. Why did he suddenly think it a good idea to kiss her?

  “She’s watching us,” Riki said softly.

  And probably calculating her next insult. This time he might deserve it. He straightened and turned to face Layla, fighting resentment and an impending surly mood.

  “Where’s Howe,” he snapped.

  “Gone home, I imagine.” Layla was all syrupy sweet. “He has this big event to prepare for….”

  So did they. He needed to get control, to stop thinking of all that was right with Riki Maddox and remember he was here to do a job. “Howe isn’t going to be happy about the way this night will end. Are you close enough to him yet to be able to mitigate the damage?”

  “I can certainly try,” she replied. “But you don’t become known as the black-market king of Malaysia by accepting disruption. There will be consequences.”

  “I’m more afraid of Ken Cho,” Riki stated. “He’s Yakuza, deadly, and profoundly arrogant. Not a good mix. Howe knows it, too. It’s why he’s letting us inside the embassy to do the dirty work.”

  Layla angled her head to look at Riki. “And you intend to antagonize him over a piece of old treasure. You are either very brave, or very foolish.”

  Riki shrugged. “Help Howe by suggesting he spin tonight’s impending crash to his favor. Cho will be furious, and sympathy is a great tool. Howe can claim outrage over his good friend Cho’s loss, offer to help, and use it to manipulate the patrons of the gala. If people believe their host has high-level connections, he’ll be sought after.”

  “That’s clever,” Layla responded. “And might be a workable solution, as long as Cho doesn’t torch the place in a fit of pique.”

  “There’s always that possibility,” Riki replied. “He does have a temper.”

  The last crate was loaded onto the van, and as Layla and Riki double-checked that every piece of cargo had been secured in place, Dallas stepped over to sign the customs release forms.

  They were closing the van doors when he rejoined them. “It’s a wrap here,” Dallas told them. “Ready for phase two?”

  Chapter 27

  The Embassy of Japan was located in an upscale area northwest of the city. The neighborhood consisted of executive homes on spacious lots, mature trees, and plenty of gated security. Several international consulates lay in the vicinity�
�Myanmar, Saudi Arabia, and the British High Commission, along with a mix of shopping malls, fine hotels, and cultural attractions.

  It was an area well used to seeing diplomatic envoys, limousines, and dark SUVs. A Mercedes parked on the road should go practically unnoticed. The only problem were the streets themselves. It was a beautiful area, practically a botanical garden, but one side of the road had no shoulder, and the other was lined with narrow sidewalks, shade trees, flowering hedges, and decorative fences. Short of parking in an available driveway, options were slim.

  Riki drove past the embassy and continued down Nassim Road. Several mansions and two consulates later, they discovered a corner lot hidden behind the two-story-high green walls of a construction barrier. It blended into the heavily treed area, practically unnoticeable until you were right alongside it. Universal yellow and black caution stripes were painted at the base, and the tip of a crane peeked over the edge. They were the only indicators of work in progress. That and a small sign that read Land Transport Authority.

  She turned onto the side street and spotted several cars parked on the opposite side. She drove down a short distance, pulled a U-turn, and added the Mercedes to a small mix of Audi and BMW sedans. She climbed out and walked up to the corner where Dallas stopped long enough for her to jump into the van’s passenger seat.

  “Contingency plan getaway vehicle now in play,” she said as she handed over the keys.

  “Excellent. And by the way, we’re now an army of four,” Dallas told her. “The professor has joined us.”

  “The one whose cottage you’re staying in?”

  “That’s him. He has an itch for some field work, but had to wait until class let out.”

  Riki laughed at the irony. “He is trained, right?” In reality, she welcomed the addition. They’d be unarmed, outnumbered, and in enemy territory. Nothing about this would be easy.

  “He’s the perfect asset,” Dallas replied. “An actual history consultant with unlimited access to weapons. Have I mentioned he owns a classified military laptop?”

  She shook her head. “While that’s all good news, how will we get past the embassy gates if we’re a rolling arsenal?”

  Dallas grinned. “Adam is a master of camouflage. Did you notice anything unusual on his Mercedes?”

  She hadn’t. “Let me guess…anti-radar cloaking ability and missile launchers?”

  “And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Don’t worry, we’ll pass inspection.”

  That sounded comforting, but she still had concerns. “What’s with the laptop? Satellite laser beams or control of the Death Star?”

  “Better than that. He’s found a back door to the security camera feed at the embassy. He is able to watch multiple cameras simultaneously.”

  That could be a game-changing advantage. “Has he seen the Pearl?”

  “Not yet, but he’s learned what suite Cho and his men are using. There’s a guard stationed outside the door. Imagine that. He doesn’t even feel safe at a secure consulate. He’s either paranoid, or there’s something in his room he’s determined to protect.”

  “I’d say both.”

  The second van caught up with them, and from the side-view mirror, Riki spotted Layla in the driver’s seat. She didn’t look the least bit tense, just busy chatting away with the professor like it was any day of the week. Riki envied that easy manner. She rarely had the chance to relax enough to engage in idle chitchat. She wasn’t even sure if she knew how.

  A flash of the tattooed dragon man in Cairns sent a ripple of unease down her spine. Her confidence still had bruises from that encounter. Without a doubt, if cornered, Shimshi would go on the attack like rabid dogs. One warrior had been bad enough. A pack left her feeling chilled.

  She rarely suffered nerves before a job, but everything rode on tonight’s outcome. Ken Cho killed her friend and stole the Pearl. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Craig deserved justice, and Dallas deserved better than what she’d handed him the last two years.

  “I’m worried about our plan,” she said.

  He gave her a sideways glance. “Plan? You mean the one where we get inside and cross our fingers? That plan?”

  “We both know Ken Cho isn’t the type to trust anything, not even the protection of diplomatic lines,” she said. “I’ve no doubt the Pearl is in his room and surrounded by Shimshi.”

  “A reasonable assumption,” Dallas replied. “It’s the steal of his career and not something he’d risk losing. As bad as that might be, having the Pearl in his room and surrounded by deadly weapons is a better option than locked behind steel walls of an impenetrable safe.”

  She didn’t like either scenario. She hated having doubts, but for the first time since the start of this journey, she wondered if the price of success came too high. She’d already lost one friend. What if it were her or Dallas this time? Maybe they should walk away, accept defeat on this one. It wasn’t too late. Live to fight another day, as the saying went.

  The words almost left her mouth when Dallas turned into the driveway, right behind a flower shop delivery van. The point of no return stared her in the face. But in reality, there was no decision to make. She was in all the way to the end. No more doubts.

  “One-thirty,” she said. “Right on time. We’ve six hours until the exhibit opens, and no idea how to make this happen.”

  Dallas gave her a wry smile. “In other words, business as usual.”

  She sighed. “I’ve been thinking. If we succeed, what if you hold off on those reports to Homeland Security long enough for a much needed discussion on Pearl’s future. Let’s call it a time-out. What do you think?”

  He seemed to contemplate the possibility. “I could use a vacation.”

  “I was in Baja, only two days into relaxing on the beach and drinking lime daiquiris when I got the call for Australia.”

  “That explains the bikini in your backpack,” he said with a grin.

  “Honestly, we need to have a talk about boundaries.”

  “As long as we’re naked in the process, I’m in,” he agreed.

  She shook her head, but wouldn’t rule out the possibility. “You can be naked. I’ll be busy working out a solution.”

  “It’s a start,” he said.

  “Does that mean you’ll delay turning everything over to the authorities?”

  “It means I have some time off. I’ll take a few days to work things out before flying home to Seattle.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. Where shall we go for neutral ground? A cabin in the mountains might be nice.”

  The gate slid open, the florist went through, and Dallas eased the van forward.

  “Your purpose?” a guard asked as they pulled up.

  “Exhibit for Mathis Howe,” Dallas replied and handed over the envelope containing their pass. “It’s us and the van behind as well.”

  “One moment, please.” The guard stepped into the gatehouse and through the bulletproof glass windows, Riki saw him checking a list on the wall. When he picked up a phone, she began to doubt their benefactor’s supposed clout.

  “Lake Tahoe is spectacular this time of year,” Dallas said while keeping watch on the activity in the booth.

  “True,” she agreed. “Though last time I was there, I might have caused a stir in certain circles. Let’s just say, if the art underground had a post office, my picture would probably be on the wall.”

  He glanced her way with a lifted brow, but she shrugged.

  The guard exited the gatehouse and returned to the van. “You are clear.” The gate started to slide open. “Exhibiters turn right and follow the roadway to an underground parking garage. Freight elevators are at the far end.”

  They drove through the gates. Space was a premium in a crowded city like Singapore, and though the embassy compound spread across roughly three acres, there was little
visible parking. Online satellite imagery had shown the driveway disappearing beneath a well-manicured lawn, presumably to an underground garage, but gave no indication of size. Another acre or more of green space behind the embassy hinted at possibility, but didn’t prepare Riki for the scope of the place. She’d seen mega-stores with less available parking.

  They followed a one-way loop that wove between concrete pillars and massive exhaust fans, circled to the opposite wall where a series of access doors and a small loading dock waited. After both vans pulled up, Riki climbed out, aimed straight for the back, and opened the cargo bay door.

  “Mind if I jump in?” the professor asked as he joined her. “Your van is the only one with a power outlet.” He indicated the laptop he carried.

  “By all means,” she said and waved him in.

  “Meet Adam Barnes,” Dallas told her.

  “Pleasure.” The professor nodded, but barely glanced up as he cleared a place on a side panel shelf, plugged in the computer, and instantly began tapping on the keyboard.

  “Adam is nearly as focused as you when he’s on the prowl.” Dallas climbed in and helped himself to a tiny flesh-colored communication piece beside the laptop. After activating, he fit it snugly inside his ear. “Did you get in?” he asked the professor.

  Adam turned the laptop slightly, and Riki glimpsed a screen split into four different views of the embassy.

  “Keep a sharp eye,” Dallas said. “Alert me of anything interesting, especially if you see Cho.”

  He reached for the clipboard and stepped back outside the van as an embassy staffer exited a small office at one end of the loading zone.

  “Good afternoon,” the staffer said with a nod and pleasant smile. “Which contributor do you represent?”

  “Mathis Howe,” Dallas answered as he handed the man an itemized listing of artifacts to be displayed. “Have you a map of the exhibitors?”

  While they conducted the business end of things, Riki climbed in with Adam and began unstrapping the cargo to keep herself busy and her mind off possible repercussions.