To Catch a Thief--A High Stakes Romantic Suspense

by Sloane Steele

  Mia couldn’t help but smile. Since Audrey and Jared made their relationship public, Audrey had attended exactly two functions as his date, and at one of them she’d been there to help Nikki steal a sculpture. “You don’t need to attend this one. I think I can handle information gathering.”

  Audrey executed a fist pump.

  “I’ll stop by tomorrow to pick up surveillance equipment, so the two of you can see and hear what I do. It’ll save a step for debriefing.” Mia picked up her purse and left to go to the museum, where she was now in charge of building an amazing new exhibit.

  When she had pitched the idea of a special exhibit on crime and punishment in art, she hadn’t expected it to be so well-received. She’d hoped to be able to gather a small collection, something with meaning to feed her restlessness while plotting against her father.

  Instead, everyone at the Art Institute was on board for her vision and it had grown into a major undertaking. And as excited as she was to head up such a project, her side hustle of stealing from her father and his cronies was taking its toll.

  But she knew they were on the right track. They just needed to forge ahead and keep the pressure up. Unfortunately, added pressure on her father also meant more possible attention on their operation. She just hoped they could complete all the thefts before things blew up.

  Chapter Two

  The following evening, Mia fidgeted again with the necklace Audrey had given her. It was a little too much for her liking, but seeing as it had a camera in it, she was stuck wearing it.

  “Stop touching the damn thing,” Audrey muttered into the comm in Mia’s ear.

  Even though she wanted to respond, Mia held her tongue so her driver wouldn’t think she was in the back seat talking to herself. When the car stopped in front of the gallery, Mia thanked the driver and got out. Cars in front of hers and behind had couples stepping out in their black tie attire. In moments like these, Mia despised not having a date. It was painfully obvious to everyone how alone she was.

  For the most part she wasn’t lonely. She rather enjoyed her own company. While her cousin Jared often attended as her plus-one, she did miss the physical aspects of having a boyfriend. Someone to hold her hand as she stepped from a car. Someone to share snarky insights with during a boring function. Someone to dance with when the alcohol made her feel loose and limber.

  And of course, sex with a partner. You never knew how much that was appreciated until it was gone. Not that her ex-fiancé was especially skilled in that department. Mia snorted and covered it with a cough as she walked through the doors of the Montague Gallery.

  The men she’d been with since Derek got the job done, mostly because she knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it, but there was something lacking. A spark. The fun and intimacy you shared when someone really knew you. But in the past couple of months, passion and pleasure had been the furthest things from her mind.

  She was fashionably late to the function. Doing so enabled her to miss the press and publicity, and allowed her to blend in with no notice. So very differently than her expectations on arrival ten years ago. Even six years ago. She’d enjoyed the spotlight of being rich and successful. Now she preferred to keep her head down and her success to herself.

  After scanning the area, she picked up a flute of champagne from the first waiter she saw.

  In her ear, Nikki said, “Starting so soon, Mia? Tsk-tsk.”

  Sipping the golden liquid, Mia nodded to a few guests, most of the usual players she saw at these functions. High-top tables were artfully scattered about the room. Some were already occupied by accommodating husbands who had been dragged to the event by their wives. A bar was in one corner and a string quartet was set up in the opposite corner with a small dance floor in front of the musicians. No one was dancing yet, but they would start once the warmth of alcohol lured them to the dance floor.

  Mia inhaled deeply through her nose. With a smile locked on her face, she spoke with a tight jaw. “That’s enough, Nikki.”

  Claire Winthrop chose that moment to walk by. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Mia! Were you speaking to me?”

  “No. I’m sorry. It was nothing.” Mia put her hand on the woman’s arm. “Claire, it’s so good to see you.”

  “It’s been far too long. I’ve been in Greece enjoying some rest and relaxation. What have you been up to?”

  “Work has been keeping me busy.”

  “You work at a place like this, right? Selling pictures and whatnot?”

  “Actually, I’m a curator at the Art Institute.”

  Cue the false laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ve never really paid attention to art. It’s all just pretty things to me.” Claire looked over Mia’s head and waved. Turning her attention back to Mia, she said, “We really must get together soon.”

  Mia nodded and drank her champagne.

  “Prime example of why I hate these events,” Audrey said.

  Mia smiled in response, even though Audrey couldn’t see. In a few short months, her revenge plot and meeting Nikki and Audrey had altered her outlook on much of her life. She used to feel comfortable—even at home—at a party like this. Ever since her father fled the country, she’d questioned everything about her life.

  She scoped out the space, making sure to shift her entire body as she did, so that Nikki and Audrey would have full view of the room. The gallery had cleared its first floor for the fundraiser. The second floor held the art collection being sold to raise money for the children’s charity of the week. Caleb Small, owner of the Spenser painting they were after, stood at a high-top table near the dance floor, cradling a glass of brandy, as Randall Scott, their first mark, droned on, entertaining himself.

  Mia made her way over to the table to see what information Caleb would give up. Between the next two men on their list to steal from, Caleb Small and Keaton Bishop, she’d take a conversation with Caleb any day. He was like a stodgy old uncle who would give you a dollar from his pocket to make you smile before shooing you off. Keaton, on the other hand, always made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Like he was undressing her with his eyes. He also constantly tried to set her up with his son. It was tiresome because Chad was a creep. And a boring one at that.

  “Caleb, Randall, how are you doing?”

  “Mia, it’s good to see you. You’re in your element here, aren’t you?” Randall Scott said.

  She smiled and nodded. “I’m really sorry, again, that I couldn’t be more help with your Mathis painting. Any word on what happened?”

  The corners of Scott’s mouth drew down. “Unfortunately, no.” He lowered his voice and brought his face closer. “And the assholes at the insurance company are backpedaling. As if I didn’t have it appraised by their people.”

  “I can’t believe it.” She feigned her surprise again, as she hid her enjoyment of rubbing salt in his wounded reputation. “You bought the real painting. What could have happened to it?”

  Randall shook his head. “It must’ve been switched at some point. Unfortunately, we’ve had the painting for so long that we can’t go back and look at security footage. Everyone involved in the sale agreed that we had an authentic Mathis. It makes no sense.”

  “That’s quite the mystery.” She turned and looked at Caleb. “Speaking of paintings, did I hear correctly that you’re planning to sell the Spenser you have in your collection?”

  “You heard right.”

  “Why are you selling? It’s a beautiful painting.”

  “I think the market is right. The auction house has hinted there might be a Picasso on the auction block at the same time. How could I turn down a live auction with other masterpieces?”

  “I’ve been swamped at work, but I heard there was a Picasso. Do you happen to know which one?”

  “I didn’t think to ask,” Caleb said. “It’s Picasso. Does it matter which one? Whoever sho
ws up to the auction hoping to get a Picasso might settle for a Spenser when they realize only one person wins the auction.”

  “Pump him for info,” Nikki said. As if Mia was unaware of her goal tonight.

  “That’s quite the boon for you and everyone else planning to sell. How do you like working with McNamara’s?”

  “I like how they run things over there. They’re really hands-on.”

  “Have you sold with them before?”

  “Jennifer had a hideous sculpture given to her by a cousin or someone. We couldn’t get rid of it fast enough.”

  She sipped her champagne and considered how to get more information. Caleb might not even know much, but it was worth a try. So she put on her wide-eyed look asking her “uncle” for a favor without really asking. “I really wish my studies covered more about auctions. It seems like it’s one of those things that doesn’t sink in until you get on-the-job training. I know so little about how they work.”

  “Laying it on a little thick there, don’t you think?” Nikki sneered.

  “Shoot me an email and I’ll get you in touch with my girl Gwen over at McNamara’s. I’m sure she’ll be happy to talk to you about it. Thinking about switching careers?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, not at all. I love the museum. But if I want to continue taking on bigger roles to advance my career, understanding the process of auctions, and of course, networking with local auction houses can only help.”

  He winked at her. “Always good to have the inside track.”

  Her thought exactly. She drained her glass. “Thanks for the chat, gentleman, but since my glass is empty, it’s time for me to move on and find another. Enjoy your evening.”

  They said their farewells and told her she should go find a young man to dance with. Meanwhile, Nikki and Audrey both chatted in her ear, which was enough to give anyone a headache. While they argued the merits of Mia contacting the auction house to get more information, Mia skirted the dance floor and wandered to the back of the gallery to go upstairs where actual art could be viewed.

  Before she even got to the stairs, a beefy hand landed on her arm.

  “Mia Benson!”

  Oh, Lord. Chad Bishop was here. Even if he did have information about the Moreau painting his father was selling, Mia had no desire to talk to the man. She heard her father’s voice in her head: Appearances mean everything, Mia. So she pasted on a smile and turned. “Chad. It’s been a while.”

  “It’s good to see you out and about.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  It took everything she had not to recoil.

  “Let’s get you a drink.”

  Based on the smell emanating from him, he’d already had plenty.

  “Actually, I was just headed upstairs to look at the artwork.”

  He was already waving a waiter over with a tray full of champagne. “Come on. You can stay for one drink. The crap up there is no better than the stuff my parents are always buying.” He handed her a glass of champagne.

  “Another glass, Mia?” Nikki filled her voice with scandal.

  Chad leaned against the railing at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve been meaning to reach out. I’ve missed seeing you at these things.”

  “I’ve been to plenty of functions. I see your parents regularly.”

  “You know what I mean.” He stroked a finger down her arm. “We should go out sometime.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not interested. I have a lot going on in my life right now.”

  He scoffed. “Please. Your little museum job is cute, but where’s it going to get you? Being seen with someone like me would go far to repairing the Benson name.”

  Her face heated and she pressed her lips together.

  “Mia. There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Mia blinked and turned to see Logan standing next to her. She took in the sight of him, wearing a tuxedo that was neither as expensive nor as well-fitted as the ones worn by everyone around them. But he still managed to wear it well.

  His smile was bright as he took the glass of champagne from her and set it on a nearby table. “They’re playing our song. I know how much you love to dance.”

  Chad raised a brow.

  She held up a single finger to tell Logan to wait. “The last thing I need to repair my name is to be seen with the likes of you. Every single woman in our circle knows better than to be alone with you. I did not choose my father, but you do choose your behavior.” She started to turn, but paused and looked back. “And as far as your parents’ taste in art, I would think that you’d rather like the Moreau they’re selling. It definitely suits your personality.”

  Chad’s mouth dropped open and Mia turned to Logan, immediately regretting mentioning the damn painting. She allowed him to lead her to the still-empty dance floor. Once he spun her into his arms, she said, “That was quite the move.”

  “You looked like you were suffering being in a conversation with that guy.”

  “And you thought I needed to be rescued?”

  He tilted his head and offered a grin. “I stand corrected.” He took her in his arms and they began to dance.

  “What if I had a boyfriend and now you made me look like a cheater?”

  The hand on her back pressed her closer, but not indecently so. Surprisingly, the man could actually dance. And lead at that. Her heels brought her nearly to his chin, allowing her to see little more than the strong line of his shoulders, the close beard was more than a five o’clock shadow, and the laugh lines that bracketed his mouth. None of which singularly was a turn-on, but all at once? She was just a woman.

  “When I ran into you at the gallery and asked you out, you would’ve said if you were involved with someone. Instead you turned me down because of your last name.” As he spoke, his breath feathered softly across her hair.

  She chuckled. “That was my feeble attempt at saving your reputation, which you have now ruined by dancing with me again. Once at Max Ingram’s house and again now? People will definitely start talking.”

  “Let them talk.”

  He had no idea how utterly painful that could be.

  A throat cleared over the comms. “You’re supposed to be doing recon on Small and Bishop, not dancing and actually...socializing,” Nikki said, the final words engulfed in laughter.

  Shuffling occurred on the other end of the comms and Mia closed her eyes to put it out of her mind and enjoy being held by a good-looking man who didn’t care about her last name.

  A few seconds later, Audrey said, “Ignore Nikki. Have a little fun.”

  “But make sure to turn off the camera before gettin’ naked,” Nikki snarked. “We don’t need photographic evidence of your fun.”

  With her lids still shut, Mia rolled her eyes. Listening to Audrey and Nikki was like having the worst babysitting job on the planet. “So tell me, Logan, what are you doing at this event? It seems like an odd choice.”

  “Why? Because you don’t think I could afford it?”

  The thought had crossed her mind. Tickets were twelve hundred apiece. “I’ve been attending events such as these for years, and I’ve never seen you.”

  “Atlas is footing the bill. We insure some of the pieces here, and in light of what’s happened recently, they want to have as many of their people involved in the art scene as possible to try to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Wait. You think the Mathis and the Devereaux aren’t the only problems?” She stepped back to look up into his eyes.

  His smile wavered. “They have no idea, so we’re keeping our eyes open.”

  * * *

  Logan had no idea what had possessed him to interfere with Mia’s conversation, much less pull her onto the dance floor, but he began to feel it was a mistake in more ways than one. The scent of her hair wafted up and had him inhaling deeper. When she stepp
ed back and stared up at him with those bright hazel eyes, he knew he was in trouble.

  She wasn’t the vapid, poor little rich girl he’d thought she might be. He definitely had met his fill of vacuous personalities over the past few weeks. But Mia was fascinating. She held her head high even though she knew people talked about her. Even though people like Chad thought he could manipulate her because of her family problems. Even though he had underestimated her twice within a half hour.

  The song ended and she stepped out of his arms completely.

  “Can I get you a fresh drink?” he asked, suddenly wanting to extend their time together.

  “Thank you, but I’m headed upstairs to look at the art. That’s where I was going before Chad caught me.”

  “I’ll leave you to it then, unless you’d like some company?”

  She studied him with her mouth barely curved. “I suppose if you were to decide to view the art at the same time, it wouldn’t do any harm.”

  They walked up the stairs in silence. At the top, he placed a hand on her back as they stepped around a couple heading down to the party. His fingers skated over the silky material of the dress that clung to her form. It was cool and smooth and he had the urge to stroke her all over. But he was supposed to be working.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Feel free to ask. I reserve the right to not answer,” she said with a small smile.

  “Of course.” He tucked his hands into his pants pockets as they walked. “As we were walking away from Chad, you mentioned a Moreau painting his father is selling. What does it look like?”

  She bit down on her lip to mask the smirk. “It’s called ‘My Way.’ The image is surrealist and it depicts a man groping a woman who is clearly horrified by the experience.”

  That explained quite a bit about her relationship with Chad. He filed the information away to look into later. He’d been poring over Atlas’s records and he knew Bishop was a client, but he hadn’t paid attention to the artwork insured. Given what he knew, though, it was too much of a coincidence that the man was selling.