To Catch a Thief--A High Stakes Romantic Suspense

by Sloane Steele

  “Thank you.”

  “If everyone knows what they’re doing, I’ll take a comm and go. I have to get ready for my dinner.”

  “Are you going to have a camera? I really want to see the look on Bishop’s face when you tell him,” London said.

  “That might cut down on the image of me talking to myself in an effort to give you information, since you’ll be able to see for yourself.”

  Audrey handed her the earpiece. “How about the necklace you wore to the gallery if you want to let us peek at the events?”

  Mia accepted the comm and pointed at London. “If you squeal in my ear, you’ll regret it.”

  “Yay!” London gave a bounce and a clap, but at Mia’s glare she sobered.

  Audrey handed her the jewelry. “Keep in mind this comm is the more sophisticated one, so we hear everything without you having to press a button.”

  “I know. I don’t want to look ridiculous always poking at my ear.”

  “It also doesn’t give you any privacy,” Audrey said in a low voice.

  “That’s fine. Thank you.” She tucked both items in her purse.

  “What are you going to do if Bishop wants you to inspect the thing before dinner?”

  Mia waved a hand. “Sheila would never let him conduct business without feeding their guests first. If he had offered drinks, that would be one thing, but he planned for this to be a dinner party.”

  “You sure we won’t need a plan B?” Nikki asked.

  “Positive. I’ll see you all back here tonight unless things get out of hand with my observations and I’m stuck there late. I have no idea what Logan’s plans are once I say the painting is a forgery.”

  “Make sure you don’t rush,” Nikki said. “You have to sell this, so really inspect it. Keep suspicion off you.”

  “I know. I think I’m getting the hang of running a con.”

  Nikki snorted. “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  Logan called Mia when he was nearing her building. “Hey. I’ll be there in about five. Should I park and come up?”

  “No need. I’m ready, so I’ll come down.”

  “A woman who is ready on time. Impressive.”

  “First, that’s a very sexist thing to say. Second, I am impressive in many ways.”

  “My apologies. All of my sisters take forever getting ready for anything. Mae used to lie to them about what time we had to leave to make sure they didn’t make us late.”

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  They disconnected and Logan turned the corner and parked right where he had dropped her off two nights ago. Through the glass doors, he saw her wave to the doorman. When the door opened and she stepped out, he lost the ability to think. She wore a stunning red dress that wrapped around all of her tight curves and plunged into a deep V in the front. And, of course, incredibly high heels.

  As she got closer, he came to, jumped from the car, and ran around to open the door for her.

  The corner of her mouth kicked up in that crooked smile of hers. “Thank you.”

  “You look amazing.”

  Color rose in her cheeks, but she looked him up and down. He felt a little self-conscious in his everyday suit that was nowhere near the designer clothes she was used to seeing on men.

  “You look pretty good yourself.”

  He leaned in to brush a kiss on her cheek, but she turned her face and captured his lips with hers. When she pulled away, she rubbed her thumb on his bottom lip.

  “Sorry about that. Lipstick.”

  “Never apologize for kissing me. I don’t mind getting a little messy.” He held her hand as she slid into the passenger seat and then he closed the door.

  “Do you have a plan for this painting?”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you know what to look for to figure out if it’s a forgery?” He pulled into traffic and headed to the highway.

  “I did a little research on Moreau and his general style. But really, there’s no way to know what to look for if it’s fake. Every artist is different. I plan to have a nice meal, share some idiotic small talk, and then look over the painting. I’ll take some photos and send them to my friend.”

  “Who is your friend?”

  “I’ll send the pictures to my cousin. He might be a little confused when photos of a painting land in his inbox, but it’s me, so he’ll wait for an explanation.”

  “Is there anything I need to know or do? Or not do?”

  “Act like my boyfriend so they stop trying to set me up with their creepy son.”

  “That’s a task I can handle. It’s a role I’d like to play for real.”

  “I’m not really in the market for a serious relationship right now. I have a lot going on with work. I can’t devote time to building a relationship.”

  “I said nothing about serious. I can keep it casual. How thick should I lay it on tonight?”

  She sighed. “I don’t want them calling my mother and telling her we’re headed down the aisle, but I also don’t want them to think we’re friends with benefits. Maybe something in the middle?”

  He reached across the console and held her hand. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “About what?”

  She seemed distracted suddenly. He hoped all the talk about a relationship—real or not—didn’t give her cold feet.

  “Whatever’s on your mind. You seem preoccupied.”

  “I’m a little nervous.”

  “About pretending to be my girlfriend? Don’t worry. I’ll guide you.”

  She smiled, which was what he’d been going for. “I can handle faking that.”

  “Cold, Mia, really cold.”

  She laughed. “Haven’t you heard? I am the ice queen of the Chicago social circles.”

  Whoever had dubbed her that didn’t really know her. He understood the reasoning behind building walls for protection, and Mia had a veritable fortress. But nothing he’d seen indicated a truly cold woman. “I think I might’ve melted some of that away because there’s nothing icy about you when we kiss. In fact, it’s downright hot.”

  “Yes, yes it is.”

  At least he wasn’t caught up in some one-sided feelings. “So what is it then?”

  “It feels like there’s a lot riding on my inspection of the painting. What if I mess up? What if I think it’s real and it’s a forgery? Or I call it a forgery and it’s not?”

  He rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand while their fingers were still interlaced. “If you think it’s real and you’re wrong, it’ll be found out when it gets to the auction house. If you call it fake and it’s not, oh well, you’re not an expert. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  She sighed.

  “I really appreciate you doing this for me. I need some kind of evidence of what’s going on. My bosses won’t budge until my theory has legs.”

  “I’m glad to help, if I can.”

  They held hands in silence the rest of the way to Bishop’s house. The neighborhood was quiet as shadows fell. When they pulled into the tree-lined driveway, Logan was flabbergasted by the size of the house. Even though he’d been visiting similar houses for the duration of this investigation, he continued to be amazed by the sheer luxury. Glancing at Mia, he asked, “You ready?”

  “Of course.” She offered a small smile.

  Any doubt or unease she had been feeling was wiped clear from her face. This woman was a master at masking her emotions. He’d hate to be the agent who had to interrogate her.

  He parked near the front door and before taking the key from the ignition, he twisted in his seat and pulled her close for a kiss. When he felt her melt against him, he whispered against her lips, “This isn’t faking.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  As cool as he
tried to play things, he couldn’t deny that her admission gave him no small amount of satisfaction. He cut the ignition and walked around the car to open her door for her. He helped her from the car and continued to hold her hand as they strode up the walkway.

  She reached out and rang the bell. A moment later, Sheila Bishop answered the door, which surprised Logan. He’d assumed that they would have a butler or someone answer.

  Sheila smiled. “Mia, it’s so good to see you. It’s been far too long.” She closed in on Mia, so Logan finally released her hand. Sheila held Mia’s shoulders and air-kissed her.

  Logan didn’t see the point.

  “How is your mother doing?” Shelia asked.

  “She’s well. Thank you for asking. This is Logan Freemont. Logan, Sheila Bishop.”

  He held out his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bishop.”

  She barely touched his hand with the tips of her fingers. He couldn’t decide if she was avoiding his touch or if it was just supposed to be a dainty handshake.

  “Please, call me Sheila. Dinner will be ready soon. We’re in the dining room enjoying a glass of wine.” She led the way across the sleek marble floor in the foyer.

  Logan lagged behind, looking around, a little in awe of the sheer size of the place. He couldn’t imagine having the kind of money required to own a house this big. And there were only two of them living here. He’d lived in Mae’s house, which was less than half the size—maybe a quarter—of this one and on average three times as many people. How many kids would Mae have taken in if she’d had this much space?

  Mia glanced over her shoulder. “Coming?”

  “Yeah, just looking around.”

  “It’s a beautiful house.”

  “Thank you,” Sheila said without turning.

  In the dining room, Keaton turned from where he was pouring a glass of wine as Sheila disappeared through another door. “Wine for both of you?”

  “Thank you,” Mia said.

  “So this is the man who finally turned Mia’s head. We’ve met, haven’t we?”

  Logan accepted the glass from Keaton. “Yes, Max Ingram introduced us recently at a party at his house.”

  “In fact, that’s where Logan and I met. He works for Atlas Insurance, and we got to talking about art, and—” Mia let out a little sigh “—things just clicked.”

  Oh, she was good.

  “Atlas, you say?” Keaton said. “That’s the same carrier I use for insurance. Are you sure this is a social call?”

  “Absolutely. I try not to mix business and pleasure, and when I’m with Mia, it certainly isn’t business.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, but in case she didn’t mention it, we do have a bit of business to tend to this evening.” He said it like it was a conspiracy instead of Mia taking a look at a painting.

  Sheila breezed back into the room. “Certainly, it will keep until after dinner.”

  Mia laid her hand on Shelia’s arm. “Of course. There’s no hurry. Actually, Logan was just admiring your beautiful house. Is there time for him to get a quick tour?”

  “Oh, yes. Keaton?”

  The man sighed.

  “I don’t want to trouble you.” Logan couldn’t imagine simply walking through his own house would be considered a burdensome task.

  “Don’t be silly,” Sheila said. “Show the boy around, Keaton, and by the time you get back, dinner will be ready.”

  “Of course, dear,” he said as he refilled his wineglass. “This way.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Mia, this is your chance. As soon as you see an opening, slip away and start opening things for me,” Nikki said in the comm.

  Mia took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. Nikki’s incessant chattering in her ear was about to drive her mad. Luckily, Logan dismissed her distraction as being preoccupied about the painting instead of realizing that Nikki and Audrey were commenting on the status of their relationship and wishing the camera had a better angle to really be able to capture the kiss she shared with Logan.

  Keaton guided them back to the foyer and crossed to the other side of the main staircase to show them the family room they had turned into a library after Chad had left the house. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases and beautiful untouched leather-bound editions of classic works of literature. “When Chad was small we used this as a playroom for him and as he grew, it became more of a family space to watch TV or play games. Many Sunday afternoons were spent watching football here.”

  “I can imagine,” Logan said.

  Mia walked the line of shelves, running her fingers over the volumes. She never understood having books that weren’t read. If you enjoyed something you should be interacting with it, not just looking at it. These weren’t works of art like paintings or sculptures. They were meant to be touched and read. Rather than say anything, she sipped her wine.

  The men made their way back out of the room, and Keaton said, “I’m guessing you don’t want to see the kitchen, so let’s head upstairs.”

  As soon as they cleared the doorway, Mia hustled over to the window, flipped the lock, and inched it open. She wanted Nikki to have every advantage available. “Library, first floor, east side,” she said quietly, hoping Nikki was paying attention. Then she hurried from the room to catch up to the men. They were halfway up the staircase, discussing the handmade rail and how long it took for it to be created.

  When she joined them, Keaton turned and continued climbing the stairs. They just peeked in the master bedroom, as no one wanted to invade the Bishops’ privacy. But Keaton enjoyed showing off the guest room they recently remodeled, and when they crossed the hall to his office, Mia’s heart rate sped up. She hadn’t seen the Moreau yet, so it made sense he would have it in his office.

  Keaton opened the door and turned on the light. The room had a much warmer feel to it than she’d expected. The men started discussing the desk and the leather chair. Was Logan really that interested in the furniture? She had no idea what game he was playing, but she couldn’t stay in the office and run the risk of them wanting to study the painting now.

  “Excuse me, Keaton. The powder room?”

  “It’s right across the hall.”

  As she opened the bathroom door, Sheila called up the stairs, “Dinner is ready if you’re done with the tour.”

  “I’m just going to freshen up. I’ll meet you all back downstairs.”

  Logan came from the office and reiterated to Sheila how beautiful the house was. Mia locked the bathroom door and took a deep breath. The window in this room wouldn’t help Nikki, as it was a small glass block. While she had privacy, though, she said, “Guest bedroom window is unlocked but not opened. I’m going to go back to the office and open that window for you. While it puts you in a position to have to scale the wall, you can be in and out without having to dodge anyone else.”

  “That’s the room with the big casement crank windows, though. I don’t think I can come and go without notice. The screen is on the inside and so is the crank for closing it. I think the den is my best bet.”

  “You’ll have to carry the painting through the foyer to get upstairs. It’s risky.”

  “I live for risk. Just keep them occupied. I’ll be there in about three minutes.”

  Mia sighed again. “Make it ten. By then, I’ll be downstairs and Sheila will have dinner served. How will you know it’s safe?”

  Nikki sighed. “If I’m clear say that something is delightful.”

  “And if it’s not safe?”

  “Stop?”

  “How about wait? Wait might be easier to work into a conversation.”

  “Wait it is then.”

  Mia washed her hands and considered possible topics to bring up to keep everyone distracted enough that they would dismiss sounds coming from another area of the house. She left the bathroom,
gave the office a fleeting glance, and went downstairs.

  “Thank you for waiting for me. I received a call while I was upstairs. It took a little longer than I expected.”

  Logan stood and pulled her chair out for her.

  “No problems, I hope,” Keaton said.

  “Not at all. I’m working on a big exhibit at the museum and a colleague had a question.” She took her seat, with Logan guiding her close to the table. “It smells delicious, as always, Sheila.”

  Keaton, at the head of the table, picked up a platter of prime rib and stabbed two thick pieces of perfectly pink meat and slapped them on his plate before passing it to Logan. Logan turned to her and offered her a slice before taking one for himself. For a man who supposedly didn’t belong in this world, he was fitting in just fine.

  “Coming up on the house now. Yell if there’s a problem,” Nikki said in her ear. “But you know, don’t really yell.”

  “So, how’s retirement treating you, Keaton?” Mia asked, hoping the man would talk loudly because he had a booming voice when he thought he was being funny.

  “I have to admit, it’s killing me. I find myself still waking up early and getting dressed even though I’ve nowhere to go.”

  Sheila tittered. “He still goes into the office two or three days a week.”

  “It pisses Chad off, I’ll tell you that. He thinks I’m there to check up on him, but in reality, I’m simply bored. I have no idea how Sheila has occupied herself for all the years since Chad started school.”

  Sheila pursed her lips. “I’ve been a member of many fine organizations. We’ve raised money for a lot of deserving charities. Maybe you should take up a hobby and you wouldn’t be so bored now.”

  Mia stiffened. She had no idea that a simple question would reveal marital distress. The silence in the room was horrible.

  A grunt came across the comm. “Damn window is tight.”

  Time to change the subject. Mia spoke louder than normal, her heart thudding in her ear, afraid everyone would hear Nikki. “Speaking of organizations, Sheila, tell me about the programs you have coming up.”