Marilyn Pappano - Nights With A Thief

Maybe. With help from an older, more experienced partner.

But Bella’s other best-known hits... A dozen netsukes carved by master Tomotada in Hong Kong, the rare Wari kingdom artifacts from South America or the collection of antiquarian books that had disappeared on their way to the Library of Congress and reappeared in the home of a Dresden businessman? Could a fifteen-year-old have the poise and polish to jet around the globe, mingling with the world’s richest and greediest and carrying off their riches right under their noses? Could she have masqueraded as an elegant, cultured, sensual woman when she was really just a girl?

If she wasn’t Bella, who was? And if she wasn’t Bella, who the hell was she? Where had she come from? How had she stayed so completely unknown for so long?

He gave her a narrow look while chewing a piece of tender, sweet lobster. Her gaze didn’t waver from his. “If you’re not Bella, how do you know who I am?”

Something very much like relief seeped over her, though she tried to disguise it by smiling. “There’s this wonderful invention called the internet. You’re probably so used to cameras going off nearby that you stopped noticing them, but it seems you get your picture taken a thousand times a day.”

“Aw, now you’re exaggerating. It can’t possibly be more than five hundred.” He paused. “So it says on the internet I’m a thief?”

“Of course not. I bet your family has lawyers on retainer on every continent.”

“With extras in the US.”

She took a few more bites, a few sips of water. “I work in the art community. There are hints of whispers of rumors. No one says anything outright because...”

“Good thieves don’t leave evidence behind.” Finished with his meal, he sprawled comfortably in his chair. “Though there are exceptions. You don’t worry that grappling hook and line will lead back to you?”

She was silent a long time, debating whether to answer or brush him off again. He figured she would come to the conclusion that she might as well answer. After all, he’d seen her with the hook in hand. Admitting to it wasn’t admitting to the theft.

“The hook was bought from a climber years ago. The line was picked up at a climbing facility in California. I wasn’t involved in either purchase. I never touched them without gloves, never had them in my home or my car.”

Though he still believed she was Bella—just considering the odds against it—the more he talked to Lisette, the more he liked her. She was smart and careful. Throw in gorgeous and his weakness for long legs and thick, silken curls, and he was damn near down for the count. Granted, being enchanted by a beautiful woman was nothing new for him...but it was always fun.

“What about the surveillance cameras?”

Lisette set down her fork, blotted her lips with her napkin and crossed her legs. Damn, he wished she was wearing another dress. Some things just weren’t meant to be covered up. “You know better than me that surveillance cameras are never fail-proof.”

He did know that. He could hack into a few systems, but he had a buddy who helped with the more complex ones. Was Lisette seriously underemployed at the museum, or did she have a buddy, too? Her friend automatically came to mind. Was Padma a tech whiz? Would Lisette look close to home for her own safety, or would she stray far away for her best friend’s safety?

“Enough talk about business. Tell me more about you and Padma.”

Her fingers exerted the slightest pressure on her glass. “Not much to tell. We grew up together, went to school together. When my mother died last spring, I inherited her house, and Padma and I moved in there together. At our age with our jobs, free rent trumps everything else.”

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

“Thank you.” She pointedly checked her watch, then folded her napkin and laid it on the table. “We’d better get back to the museum. We’ll be there in time to catch some of the lunch rush, so a tour will take a while.”

He signed his room number to the check, then stood and smiled. “We’ll do what we can.”

After all, he’d already seen what he really wanted to see today.

Chapter 3

In all her years at the museum, that Friday afternoon counted as Lisette’s favorite. For hours she and Jack had roamed through the exhibits, and the conversation had stayed relatively safe. She made sure not to mention Padma again and deflected any question of a personal nature. When he’d asked her one, she’d steadied her gaze on him and asked, Why do you want to know?

He’d looked back just as steadily and replied, Because I want to know you.

Her emotional side had gone mushy before her practical side smacked it back in line. She was with Jack Sinclair for one purpose: to reclaim Le Mystère. Not to like him, not to get to know him, not to be flattered by his intimate looks or his flirting. All that was just part of the job, the means to the end. Her emotional side had to remember that.

You’re all emotion, Marley had once scoffed. You’re not the sort who uses someone else for your own gain.

“In this case, I am,” Lisette murmured as she crossed the parking lot to a silver midsize that looked like every other car on the road. It wasn’t dented or spotlessly clean; the windows had only the usual factory tint: there were no stickers proclaiming her university affiliation, her political beliefs or her sense of humor. It was totally unremarkable.

Just the way she needed to be when she was working. Last night she’d ignored that rule, and today she’d thought it had been a mistake. She had to be cool and in control to keep it from becoming one.

As soon as she left the parking lot, she called Padma. Her friend’s voice was tinged with excitement. “I’ve got the package, sweetie. Where do you want to meet?”

“How about behind Pecos Pete’s?”

“Oh, yum. Can we eat there after we visit Mrs. M?”

Her favorite Mexican food on a Friday night, then curling up with her tablet and a movie—sounded like a perfect evening. “Sure.” Then, because she couldn’t hold it in any longer, she said, “Guess who came to the museum and took me to lunch at Fire?”

Padma shrieked. “Are you kidding? Were you excited? Did you swoon?”

Lisette wasn’t sure whether Padma was talking about her reaction to Jack or to the restaurant. “I survived without swooning once. I’ll tell you all about it when we meet.”

“I can’t wait.”

Traffic was heavy, so Padma was waiting by the time Lisette pulled into the employee lot behind Pecos Pete’s. She parked beside the red car, slid out and into the passenger seat. Padma’s handbag was on the floor behind the console, and a large plastic bag filled with rolls of wrapping paper occupied the backseat. “What’s with the paper?”

Padma accelerated out of the parking lot about twenty miles an hour faster than safe before grinning at her. “Camouflage. Just to be safe.”

Lisette shook her head sadly. “Mom corrupted me. She corrupted you totally.”

Padma’s fine hair slapped around as she took a quick look before screeching from the parking lot across four lanes to reach the turn lane. “She didn’t corrupt me. She added to my arsenal of tools to use if ever I need them.” Grinning, she parroted Marley. “You can never have too many tools.”

And Marley had believed it. That was why Lisette could pick any lock she came across, had learned to hack most computer systems enough to help in an emergency, could cry on command and was conversant in seven languages. She kept abreast of all the latest developments in alarm systems and electronic devices, had developed a pretty good range of accents, could make herself look anywhere from twenty to seventy and worked out regularly. Be a chameleon, Marley had taught, and she’d become just that.