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Criminal

By: Dorothy McFalls

September 2004

For Dorothy McFalls (dorothy@dorothymcfalls.com), happily-ever-after is more than just a fictional ending, having enjoyed every day of the last ten years of marriage to her sexy architect husband who often exhibits the patience of a saint. They reside in an artsy beach community in South Carolina with their cat-like dog and dog-like cat. Formerly an environmental urban planner, she now writes full time.

Look for her Signet Regency Romance, The Marriage List, on bookstore shelves in May 2005!!

Jack gave the rather plain, slightly plump airport security guard waving a wand over his waist his most charming grin. She didn’t smile back. Ah well, she was just one woman. That was no reason to go running in front of the nearest bus, screaming.

Five years locked up in hell couldn’t have completely killed his charm. Besides, the jeans and white button-up shirt he wore both screamed cheap and certainly made it hard for any woman to want to take a second look at him.

Things would soon be changing...and for the better.

He hoped.

He had a one-way ticket tucked in his pocket to Boise, where his sister’s husband ran a small outdoorsman supply shop. Well, not exactly in Boise, but a small town within a day’s drive of the city that no one had ever heard of.

Things weren’t going to be perfect. Hell, nothing was. A parole officer was waiting for him in the potato state to keep him in line. One step off it, he’d been told, would land his butt back on that little squeaky cot in the grimy cell he’d never called home.

For someone used to penthouse suites and champagne breakfasts, his fall from grace had been a long, hard one.

He wove through the busy holiday crowd in the airport. A family with four excited children nudged ahead of him as he closed in on his gate. They didn’t stop and stare. They didn’t see the stamp of ex-convict he’d been afraid would be visible all over his forehead.

Jack exhaled a long breath. He didn’t exactly relish selling fishing gear or talking with hicks about spending time outdoors, but anything had to be better than prison. He’d sell peanuts along side the road before doing anything that might send him back to that hell. Five years had been enough.

More than enough.

It was the straight line for him.

“Excuse me,” a sultry voice said. A woman with long legs and a head full of honey-dipped hair attempted to squeeze between him and a businessman tucked into a pinstriped hand-stitched suit. Her silky dress brushed Jack’s hand. The soft fabric sent tingly tremors spiraling up his arm.

“No problem,” Jack said as he moved to one side to let her pass. She didn’t seem to notice. It was like he was invisible to her.

He blinked. Even after she’d hurried toward baggage claim, his arm kept tingling.

Trouble.

It had been a woman who’d landed him in prison in the first place. He’d been doing fine on his own. Been happily living in the lap of feminine luxury until she’d batted those long brown lashes. She’d wanted something flashy and big for her hand and hadn’t he been fool enough to go straight to the nearest museum and pick something out?

Funny, the police still had no idea how he’d slipped past security. It had been that damned woman parading down Madison Avenue and flashing that ancient stone to everyone in sight that had done him in.

It was always a woman...

Ignore the tingling, he told himself. Get on the plane and forget her and your thrumming instincts. A voice on the loud speaker placed a last boarding call for his fight, reminding him that he needed to forget his past and get on that plane.

“And pretend to be happy in Boise selling worms to the Paul Bunyon set?” he muttered to himself.

“Excuse me?” the businessman beside him looked up from his newspaper and asked.

“Nothing...” Jack mumbled and took a straight path toward baggage claim.

He was what he was. His sister’s plans to reform him were doomed to begin with. There’d be no changing him. It would no doubt end up being his downfall.

He found the woman who’d tripped off his senses outside the terminal, tapping her toe as she stood in a line, waiting for a taxi. Irritation tightened those plump, rosy lips of her. Jack hated to see it.

He passed a group of cab drivers on break. They were gathered around the lead car, smoking and talking loudly. He dropped a fifty-dollar bill into the hand of the man closest to him.

“I don’t have time to wait in the line,” he told the driver.

“Sorry, man,” the cabby said. A frown dragged down his face as he eyed the fifty-dollar bill like a hungry stray. “Can’t take it. Airport finds out, and I’m fired.”

“Tell them I called you in advance,” Jack suggested.

The driver glanced over his shoulder to his buddies. They were pretending to mind their own business, but their curious gazes kept straying back toward Jack and this guy, making Jack edgy as hell. Any one of them could be memorizing his face for future use. Five years had been too long to be out of practice. He felt as green as a shoplifting adolescent.

“Um...” He turned his head away from those staring eyes and dug around in his pocket. He pulled out a second fifty-dollar bill. He’d have an empty wallet if the driver took the money. A frisson of guilt passed through his arm as he placed the bill into the driver’s callused hand. His sister had wired him that money. “Would this change your mind?”

“Sure man,” The money disappeared into the cabby’s grimy shirt pocket. “Won’t be but a minute.”

Jack gave nod and wandered over to where the honey-haired siren was still waiting impatiently for her turn to catch a cab. She tapped her watch crystal and frowned.

“In a hurry, darling?” he said as he stepped up next to her. She was curvy in the most delicious places. He leaned against a concrete pile and crossed his arms. He stared at her as if they were well acquainted and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the pavement. Her crystalline gaze traveled the length of his cheap shirt and jeans.

She sniffed, checked her watch again, and turned away.

“My cab’s waiting over there.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “I’m going into town. If you’d like to share...”

Her pretty eyes returned to him. “I’ll pay you for that cab.”

Like fallen angels singing, Jack thought. Her voice was as sultry as the fertile earth. It fit her. He liked the way she’d leaned forward as she’d said it. He was treated to a peek at her swelling breasts as he peered down the low cut of her frilly dress.

“I’ll share the cab,” he said to those breasts.

“No thanks.” She tapped her nervous foot and looked around as if worried someone might be looking for her.

She was trouble, all right.

Jack leaned in close. “I know what’s worrying you,” he whispered. “I can help.”

The pink color in her cheeks drained away. “Who are you?”

He curled his hand around her arm and pressed his lips to her ear. “The man with the fastest way out of here.” The sharp scent of excitement mingling with a high-priced flowery perfume tickled his nose. “Share my cab.”

She sorely needed someone’s help. He had an urge to ask her what the hell she was thinking. Whatever she was planning, it was out of her league. Her inexperience had left her waiting in the line for cabs, for heaven’s sake. He’d never be caught playing by the rules and standing in a respectable line unless he was looking to pick a few pockets. In fact, he’d lifted a fat wallet from some sap and dropped it into his pocket in the short time he’d been talking with her.

“You aren’t a rapist are you?” she pulled sharply away from him and asked. “If you are, I should warn you that I’m an expert in self defense.”

“I’m as tame as they come,” Jack lied.

She gave a nod and stepped out of the slow-moving line. “I don’t buy the tame crap,” she said as they approached the waiting cabby. Her movements were as fluid as water. “If I wasn’t in a hurry--” She licked her pretty lips. “I wasn’t lying when I said I can take care of myself. And since you claim to know why I find myself in this stinking city, let me warn you, I won’t let you or whoever you work for interfere with what I have to do.”

Jack swept the cab door open and graced her with the same disarming smile he’d used earlier on the airport security guard. Much to his ego’s pleasure, this woman seemed to appreciate his effort.

Her lips loosened just enough to curl up a little on one end. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She directed the cabby to take her to a pleasant-looking apartment building. Not one of those elegant, glass and steel complexes, but a cozy brick and mortar three-story that couldn’t house more than six or eight residences.

Jack sat beside the leggy blonde in the back of the cab, his gaze locked forward, his body tightening from knowing a soft, feminine creature was within an arm’s reach. It had been too long...

He’d glanced her way and caught her staring.

They couldn’t talk in the cab, not in front of the driver. So by the time the yellow sedan pulled to a quick stop in front of the apartment building, he still didn’t know her name. The woman gave him a tense smile and murmured her gratitude before slipping out of the car.

Jack handed the driver a twenty and the wallet he’d taken from the tourist. “Found it on the floor,” he explained and rushed across the street to follow the woman up the steps.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a sharply drawn-in breath when he appeared at her shoulder.

“Getting my money’s worth,” he said, bluntly.

She slapped him.

He rubbed his chin. “That’s going to cost you, darling.”

She raised her hand to slap him again. He caught her wrist and gave it a little turn. “You don’t want to do that.”

A squeak of pain escaped her lips before she clamped her mouth shut. “Who are you?” she hissed.

“The man who’s going to keep you out of jail. Unlock the damn door.”

She pushed the key into the lock and gave it a quick turn. “I suppose your act of kindness comes with a steep price?”

Jack was impressed. With a simple flutter of her prettily shaded eyelids, she’d regained her composure. He gave her wrist another twist, just to test her.

She didn’t flinch.

Good.

“We’ll see,” he said and released her arm.

She moved to rub it, but caught his eye and stopped herself. A pretty frown creased the kissable space between her brows, making Jack curse to himself. He was a damned fool getting mixed up with a woman like her. He would have thought spending five years in jail thanks to a tight piece of work exactly like this one might have taught him a thing or two. The more beautiful, the bigger the trouble. And he was a damned idiot to get involved.

Still, his heart thundered an excited beat eager to enjoy the cat-and-mouse game for as long as possible. He swept his arm toward the stairs. “Lead on.”

* * * * *

A wave of bittersweet memories washed over Sandra as she stood inside Harvey’s apartment and watched the tall stranger with a dangerous gleam in his steady gaze as he ran his fingers over the top of the marble fireplace mantle. He was big yet graceful, like a rogue ten-point deer. And unlike normal people, he made himself right at home. She followed him into Harvey’s bedroom and felt a wrench of pain in her gut when he tossed open the closet door.

All of Harvey’s clothes--his suits, his running sweats, his khaki pants--were hanging with the same meticulous care Harvey had used to put them there. The stranger raised a dark brow as he looked at her and then back at the clothes in the closet.

“Should I guard against an irate boyfriend or husband?” he asked with that soft voice of his.

Sandra swallowed back a welling of tears as she sadly shook her head. Her reaction must have caught him off-guard. He took a couple quick steps toward her but stopped.

“This isn’t your apartment, is it?” he asked.

“No,” she said.

“Do you have permission to use it?” He’d crossed his arms and looked totally at ease with himself. His dark hair had been nearly shaved. It was too short for her tastes. And, she suspected, too short for his as well. His thin white shirt and brand new jeans didn’t suit him, either. “Not that I mind. I just need to know what to expect.”

“No one should question my staying here,” she said and regretted it right away. “That’s not to say there won’t be visitors. I’m expecting several people to stop by. Soon, in fact. Perhaps you should leave.”

He crossed the room and cupped her chin in his callused palm--another contradiction. His smoky gaze pressed on hers. “Is that so?” he said.

She nodded...or tried to. His fingers tightened, pinching her chin. “You’re a terrible liar. We’ll have to work on that.”

How dare he. He’d gone too far. Pushed her one too many times. She jerked her head from his grasp and took several steps back. Her first thought was to slap that smug expression off his face, but she remembered how he’d moved much faster than her and had twisted her arm.

“Get out,” she said as she backed toward Harvey’s chest of drawers. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not willing to play by your rules. I think you should leave.”

He watched her with a funny grin tugging on his lips. “I’m not leaving,” he said.

She opened the top drawer and prayed Harvey hadn’t moved anything around since her last visit. She slipped her hand inside without turning her back on the exasperating stranger.

“I believe you will,” she said. Her fingers touched cool steel. “I believe you will leave right now, in fact.”

“And if I refuse?” His silver-tinged eyes sparkled like he enjoyed taunting her, the jerk.

She whipped out Harvey’s pistol and held it with both hands, her elbows locked, her arms stiff and straight in front of her. She aimed for the widest part of his chest.

“You will notice that it has a silencer,” she said. “The neighbors won’t bat an eye after I shoot you.”

His eyes widened as he moved his hands to hold them out from his body. Yet his grin remained as arrogant as ever.

“I suggest you start walking toward the front door,” she said.

He didn’t move. And the gun was beginning to feel impossibly heavy.

“Please,” she said. “I don’t want to shoot you.”

He took a step toward her. “I don’t want you to shoot me, either.” He held out his hand. “Now give me the toy, darling.”

“Don’t.” Her arms started to shake. She hadn’t lied. She didn’t want to shoot him. Why was he being so stubborn? Why didn’t he just leave like any sane man would do? “Stay back.”

He started to laugh then. Not a nervous, stammering laugh, but a deep, full-bodied chuckle that took over his entire body.

“You’re a rare treat,” he said between snorts. “You probably think you’d actually shoot me, too, don’t you?”

She did. He needed to back up, or she might just have to pull the trigger. She couldn’t let anyone get in her way.

Tears squeezed out from the corners of his eyes as his laughter continued to fill the room. He put his hands on his knees and took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m sorry, sweetie. You probably really want to shoot me now. I would if I were you.” He wiped the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had reason to laugh like that. And you’re so adorable, trying your damnedest to look tough. I bet that gun must feel like it weighs a ton by now, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, despite herself. How did he know? She worked out regularly. It seriously galled her that Harvey’s little gun would weigh so much. It didn’t feel heavy when she’d first picked it up.

“Here.” He bent her arm a bit and loosened her death-grip. “Try holding it like that.”

That little repositioning of her arms did relieve the tightness in her shoulders and did make the gun feel a world lighter.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Jack,” he said. No last name...not that it would matter. He stepped back into her line of fire and held his hands out to his side again. “Let’s see, where were we?”

“Damn it, this is serious,” Sandra said, shaking the gun at him.

“Sorry.” He wiped the grin from his face with his hand. “Is this better?”

“No. I want you to leave, remember?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t? Don’t you mean won’t?” She saw absolutely no reason why he couldn’t pick up one foot after the other and walk out of her life.

“You need me.” That darn twinkle returned to his eyes. He plopped down onto the edge of the bed. “You’re obviously in over you head. I know. I’ve seen amateurs gearing up to take on a big heist like this before. And you, sweetie, are dripping with inexperience.”

“So you swoop down like my guardian angel to help me, is that it? And what do you get out of this? A warm feeling in that soft heart of yours?”

“I get a cut. Eighty percent seems fair.”

“You forget that I’m the one with the gun.” Sandra waved its barrel toward the bedroom door. “I suggest you leave.”

“If you make me walk out that door, I’ll go straight to the police.”

He wouldn’t. He was bluffing. A man like that--a con man to his core--couldn’t go to the police. If he was anything like Harvey, the police in at least four states would be interested in getting their hands on him. That would be the last place he’d want to go.

Unless he was somehow connected with the government...

But then he wouldn’t want eighty-percent. And even if she was willing to trust him, she couldn’t share a crumb. It just wasn’t possible.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Seventy-percent. And that’s just because I’m a nice guy and enjoy my work.”

“I can’t,” she said. Oh, a part of her dearly wanted to. It had been the scariest thing in the world to board that plane to this damn city with a crazy plan of committing an impossible robbery. Harvey-Harvey-Harvey, why hadn’t he listened to her and stayed away from trouble?

She was going to end up in jail. That was what that nice FBI agent had warned her just after explaining why the government’s arms were tied. He couldn’t help her...or Harvey.

“You aren’t with the government, are you?” she asked Jack...if that was his real name.

“God, no,” he said, throwing his hands up in protest. “The pay isn’t anywhere near good enough for a man of my expensive tastes.”

Sandra lowered the gun and propped a hand on her hip. “Then who the hell are you and how in the world do you know what I’m planning to do?”

“I know,” he said and leaned back on the bed like he belonged there. “Am I wrong? Tell me you aren’t going to break the law. Tell me you have no plans to steal something priceless.”

Sandra’s heart stopped. It shouldn’t have. He’d already said he knew, several times. But before she had assumed--rightly or wrongly--that he was somehow connected with the FBI and that he knew her story. Or at least parts of it. If he was a stranger and he knew what she was planning...

“Damn. I’m in trouble,” she muttered.

“Not anymore,” Jack said. “I’m here. And I don’t intend to let you get caught.”

“Why? Why help me?”

“Because I want my cut,” he said as if that matter had already been settled.

Sandra stared at him. He was so cock-sure of himself. She could use that. Nothing about this fool plan of hers felt right. Only, she had no other option. Harvey would die if she didn’t act and act soon. They’d given her a tight deadline.

Hand over the Shield of Azure by Friday or they would kill him.

No negotiation. No excuses. Do it or he dies.

The government wouldn’t pander to radicals with guns, no matter how noble the cause. Sandra understood their reasoning. But this was her brother’s life they were talking about, not some stranger’s.

She couldn’t just sit back and wait for him to be killed. She had to act...even if it meant breaking the law.

“Okay,” she said. What was one lie when compared to larceny? “Sixty percent of the profit.” No need to let him think she’d give in too easily.

“Sixty-five,” he tossed the offer across the room.

She eyed him carefully. He knew what he was doing. His mind was fast. His body nimble. A perfect cat burglar. She’d have to sneak up behind him and attack when he wasn’t looking. But she wouldn’t do that until after she had the shield in her hands. It was the only reasonable thing to do. Play by his rules just long enough to get what she needed.

“It’s a deal,” she said.

* * * * *

A tingling of unease crept down Jack’s spine. He glanced back at Sandra. She was following along behind him, stepping where he stepped through the dimly lit alleyway. Her concentration was fierce. A petite frown created a delightful wrinkle between her brows.

And she looked adorable in those black Capri jeans, black turtleneck sweater, and matching gloves, like a modern day, blond-headed Katharine Hepburn. Everything seemed perfect.

Still, something bothered him about this job.

Perhaps it had something to do with the lack of money-lust in Sandra’s pretty eyes. Even now, just steps from the museum’s back entrance, she only seemed anxious. Couldn’t she taste the excitement gurgling all around them or smell the sweet cash waiting to be paid by the fence he’d arranged to buy the Shield of Azure?

Her focus was the deadly kind. He’d seen similar looks on the faces of the men he’d led into battle over ten years ago. Like this was a life or death kind of game they were about to play.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered. “And relax...I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Let’s just get the shield and get out of here,” she returned with a harsh whisper.

“Okay...okay...let me get to work on the lock.”

Jack had the lock unlatched within a few seconds. He tucked his lock-pick tools back into his belt and turned his attentions to the more challenging part of the break in--fooling the alarm system.

This was where crime blended into art. The door, he’d discovered from an earlier reconnaissance visit to the museum, was armed with magnetic contact switch near the top hinge. If he were to swing the door open, the circuit would be broken and the alarms would blare. Though these were generally simple systems to fool, he still had to be careful.

Luckily for them there was a little window in the steel door. He supposed it was there to give the guards low-tech way of monitoring the alleyway during deliveries. Like many private museums in the city, this one was in need of a security overhaul.

He etched a circle about three inches in diameter on the glass. With several taps with the end of the glasscutter, the window cracked along his mark, and he was able to ease the broken piece out with a suction cup. His arm just fit in the opening. He reached up and unscrewed the magnetic part of the alarm from the door. Careful to not break the contact, he taped it to the switch on the wall.

“One down, three more to go,” he said as he swung the door open without tripping off any alarm systems.

Sandra rewarded him with a brisk nod and a deeper frown.

His instincts told him to run from this woman as fast as his legs could carry him. She was trouble. Even so, he led the way, avoiding the interior security cameras and photoelectric eyes, and dashed down a long hall that opened into the special exhibit area.

Sandra’s gaze latched onto the golden Shield of Azure shining under the glow of the soft museum display lamps. Her eyes grew wide and she started toward it as if pulled by the golden glow.

No! She was about to ruin everything! Jack wrapped his arms around her waist and held onto her before she could cross the threshold into the exhibit space. “Don’t move,” he breathed as silently as possible in her ear. He held his breath, waiting. Nothing beeped, no alarms blared...but then again some alarms were silent ones.

He backed up slowly, dragging a stiff Sandra with him. She shivered. “Forgot the alarm,” she said. Her voice was nearly as silent as his. “Sorry.”

“Don’t move.” He released her and let go of the breath he’d still been holding. His heart was pounding in his chest.

It was always a woman. His sister was right...he needed to find that straight and narrow path. He should be in Boise chewing on a stalk of wheat, or whatever they would chew on in that state, and thinking about dull things that couldn’t possibly get him sent back to jail.

His track record with the fairer sex was abysmal. Five years in jail...it should have been long enough to help him kick the habit. But let one wag her pretty behind his way and boom, his brains leaked out his ears.

He was doomed.

More angry at himself than Sandra for nearly getting them trapped in the middle of a museum, Jack tore off the small black backpack and dug around in it, searching for the transducer. Get in, get out, and get on that plane to Boise.

Because the special exhibit room contained priceless treasures, the museum had installed an ultrasonic alarm system. Ultrasonic waves sound flowed out into the room in an elliptical pattern. Nothing moving in the room, the wave would return to the system without change. Walk into the room and disrupt the ultrasonic pattern, the alarm would be triggered.

Sensitive buggers.

They irritated Jack. He’d rather play with fancy lasers than ultrasonic waves any day.

He taped the transducer a friend of his had built just for this purpose to the chassis of a disassembled remote control car and wrapped it in a remnant of a heavy rug to absorb the ultrasonic waves.

He gave Sandra a nod. She produced a remote control from her pack and pressed several buttons. The dressed-up transducer glided very slowly into the room. It hugged the wall as it inched ever closer to the mounted alarm system.

Jack bit his lip. Sandra had insisted she do this part. He hoped she’d keep her cool. To rush now would set off the alarm.

Seconds felt like hours. The room went from chilly to blaring hot. He couldn’t go back to jail. The first time nearly broke his spirit. It would kill him to go back. Fifteen years, they’d warned him. That was the minimum he should expect if caught falling back into his old patterns.

What in the hell was he doing letting Sandra play cat burglar? He must have completely lost his mind.

The risk was too big. His thudding heart felt like it might jump right out of his chest.

The transducer moved into place.

Jack checked his watch. It had taken a little more than eight and a half minutes. They were on schedule.

If his friend had done his job correctly, the special transducer should mimic the ultrasonic frequency the alarm system was emitting and render the alarm harmless.

If it were one decibel off, the alarm would sound.

He gave Sandra a nod and she flipped a switch.

Nothing happened...at least nothing audible to human ears.

Good. That meant the transducer might be working.

With a light step, Jack crossed into the room. Sandra followed on his heel.

No alarm.

They were safe, for the moment.

There was just one barrier left--the display case. The case couldn’t be lifted because of the foil alarm around the base of the Plexiglas. One rip in the foil would break the alarm circuit and set it off. They couldn’t break the case, because the force needed to smash into it would likely tear the foil.

“Easy now,” Jack said as Sandra crouched down and drilled a small hole near where the wires ran from the foil down into the floor. They’d practiced this step many times. Jack was confident that Sandra could handle this.

She eased back on her heels and heaved a deep breath once the drill had broken through. He handed her a wire that she fished down through the hole. With tape hooked to the end of a skinny probe she latched the wire to both sensor terminals, bypassing the foil.

“That should do it?” she asked, looking up at Jack. For the first time that evening the tension seemed to ease from her taut expression. “I did do it right, didn’t I?”

“Would have shorted out the system and sent a small army of security guards running our way if you hadn’t.” Jack checked his watch. “Three minutes until the guards walk the halls. Let’s get going.”

Together they lifted the case. Jack was just thinking about what a good team they made together when Sandra pushed him out of the way and snatched up the Shield of Azure. The gold sparkled as it dipped under the display lights.

An odd look flashed in her eyes as she held her prize. It looked like relief. That wasn’t the emotion he’d expected. Why did it mean so much to her to hold the artifact? They were just going to sell it.

She stroked the metal and murmured what looked like a wordless prayer.

“What?” he whispered.

“Soon,” she said and looked up, blinking, as if suddenly realizing he was standing next to her. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jack backtracked to the alleyway. It wasn’t his cleanest burglary, but Sandra had time constraints, so he hadn’t been able to plan and execute this robbery with his usual ghost-like flare.

This was sloppy and he didn’t like it. That niggling bad feeling kept creeping back up his throat and tingling through his spine. No matter how hard he tried to shake it off, he just couldn’t seem to get over feeling that something was wrong.

Dead wrong.

A shadow moved in the alley. A second one joined it. Jack crowded Sandra back toward the door from where they’d just emerged. “Shhh...” They weren’t alone.

Shit.

“Sorry,” Sandra said.

He turned just in time to watch her slam a small club into the top of his head. He sank to his knees.

Shit.

“I’m really sorry.” Sandra’s voice sounded strange.

The alleyway swirled in and out of focus. Shadows advanced like hungry wolves.

“She has it,” a shadow said.

“Where’s Harvey? You said you’d free Harvey.” Sandra sounded frantic.

A shadow swept over her, silencing her.

“What about this one?” Something slammed into Jack’s side. It felt like the toe of a heavy boot. Jack moaned and curled in on himself. The darkness began seeping into his brain. Everything sounded like the night sky, vast and empty.

“Better take him, too.”

Take him where? Jack couldn’t seem to get his mind to work after that last thought screamed through his head.

It was always a woman...

* * * * *

Sandra sat with her chin propped against her hand and stared out into the dark waters. The boat bobbed and tilted as it made its way toward a cargo ship looming like a small city on the horizon. The shimmering stars above her winked mischievously and made her think of Jack.

She looked over her shoulder. He was still there, lying in a motionless heap. Guilt flooded her chest, bringing tears close to the surface. She’d used him. He didn’t understand the danger. Each time he’d regained consciousness in the past several hours, he’d fought the kidnappers and taken a harsh beating. Dried blood had clumped in his short hair and was smeared across the side of his bruised face.

Poor, poor Jack. He was so like her brother. Good hearted, but greedy. The last time consciousness brightened his eyes, she had begged him to remain still. He’d told her to shut up.

“I’d told you I would keep you safe, and by God I will,” he’d said right before getting smacked in the side of the head with the butt of a rifle.

Not even once did he look worried. That arrogant grin of his had remained plastered on his lips as the kidnappers made sport of his determined spirit. She supposed she should have expected him to act that way. He was like her Harvey. Everything was a game...a challenge to be savored.

Such personalities were rare treasurers. She doubted she’d find a malicious bone in either Jack or Harvey’s body. They lived for excitement and, like Peter Pan who lived happily-ever-after in his own fantasy world, would probably never grow up.

Keeping low, she scooted across the deck to Jack’s side and caressed his bruised cheek. “I should have never let you bully your way into my life,” she said.

“But then you’d be short one knight-in-shining-armor just about now,” he said. His voice cracked, sounding terribly hurt and raspy. He peeled open one eye and then the other. Despite the beatings he’d suffered life sparkled as brightly as ever in those silvery eyes of his. “What, no shadowy figures lying in wait to use me as a punching bag?”

“Oh, Jack...” She couldn’t imagine how he could joke at a time like this.

With some degree of difficulty, he pushed himself into a sitting position. “Just tell me one thing,” he said, peering out into the darkness. “Were you planning all along to bash me over the head or was that a last minute decision you’d made to cut me out of the profits?”

Sandra stared at him for several moments, speechless. The Shield of Azure was the least of their worries. The kidnappers had their prize, and still they wouldn’t tell her where they had Harvey or what they planned to do.

“Come now.” Jack’s voice caught a dangerous edge. “The truth can’t possibly be that difficult to spit out.”

“Um...” What could she say? She’d used him and wasn’t proud of herself for it.

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” She tried to grab his hand, but he jerked it away before she could get a good grip. He groaned as he worked his way to his feet. He shuffled a staggering gait to the boat’s railing. “Good luck with these shadow-men of yours.”

Good lord, he was going to dive overboard.

“They kidnapped my brother.” The words spilled out easily now that it looked like she was about to lose what felt like her only friend in the world. “They said they’d kill him if they didn’t get that stupid Shield of Azure back. What was I to do? The government had told me all about due process and not giving into terrorist’s demands. What can I say? I needed your help, but I was afraid you wouldn’t do it for free.”

He paused at the railing and turned. A frown pinched his lips together. He looked like a different man, a hardened soul.

“You could have warned me.” The words fell flat onto the deck between them. “We were in a museum filled with priceless trinkets, Sandra! I could have picked up something in addition to your blasted shield to cover expenses. And I certainly wouldn’t have left my back exposed like that if I’d known there were others interested in what we were doing.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have trusted you...if only a little.”

His gaze strayed back to the swirling waters. “It’s always a woman,” he muttered, shaking his head. “My sister was right. I’m doomed. Doomed. I should have gotten on that plane. I bet she’ll never speak to me again...if I’m lucky enough to live that long.”

“Don’t leave me,” Sandra whispered barely loud enough for even her to hear.

His eyes met hers. “I’m a very good swimmer, you know.” He glanced at his watch. “And I’ve only been unconscious this time for forty minutes. We can’t be more than a mile or two from shore. I can make it.”

“I can’t leave my brother,” she said, sounding braver than she felt. “He needs my help.”

“Have you seen him?”

She shook her head.

“He might be on the cargo ship,” he said, his frown grew deeper, his voice more deadly. She never thought she’d ever be wishing for one of his irritating grins to return. But she was. “He might not even be alive.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“He’s my brother,” she said, hoping he would understand why she couldn’t give up on Harvey no matter how bleak the situation. “What am I supposed to do?”

Jack shrugged. He eyed the water again. She held her breath, expecting he’d jump overboard.

He didn’t. He only frowned harder.

“Hey!” a voice from a deck above them shouted. “Move away from the there!” Heavy boots clanked on metal stairs as a team of armed men dressed all in black descended from the cabin above.

* * * * *

“So you’re Harvey,” Jack said. He narrowed his aching gaze on a slightly chubby man who looked to be in his mid forties. A few years older than himself. Harvey hadn’t taken good care of himself, though. He needed to exercise. Yet there was a resemblance in the high forehead and pointy chin to his sister.

Sandra hugged her brother who’d jumped to his feet after three armed men had pushed Jack and her through the door to this cramped cabin on the cargo ship. She sobbed loudly. It was a heartrending scene.

Jack would have probably had kinder thoughts about her dear, kidnapped brother if he’d looked half as beat up as Jack felt. There wasn’t even a nick on this man’s smooth skin. And they’d let him recently shave.

Such accommodating kidnappers...

Jack rubbed his sore ribs, wishing they’d treated him with similar care.

Harvey wrapped his meaty arms around his sister and peered at Jack over the top of her honey-dipped hair. “Who’s this guy?” his grumbly voice sounded terse--suspicious, which wasn’t exactly the kind of tone Jack would have taken if his sister were to waltz through that door with a stranger.

The more the merrier, and all.

“That’s Jack,” Sandra managed to say between sniffles. “He’s a thief.”

“Oh.” Harvey snarled at Jack and then kissed the top of his sister’s head. “They told me,” he said. “I don’t know how you managed it, but they’re pleased to have the Shield of Azure back under their control.”

“Who are these people?” Jack asked. He strived to keep his voice calm, which was a challenge. He had stayed with Sandra, picturing her brother needing all the help he could get. In fact, he’d pictured Harvey suffering all sorts of dire tortures. And here, Harvey didn’t seem like he was in danger at all while Jack certainly wasn’t too convinced about his own safety. One guard had kept eyeing him with a hungry gleam, like he wanted to crack his skull open and eat his brains out with a spoon or something. “What are they planning to do with us?”

Harvey ignored the question. He held Sandra at arm’s length, his hands squeezing her delicate shoulders. “You are okay, aren’t you?” he asked her. “This guy didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“Hurt me?” A pretty pink tinge colored her cheeks when she glanced over at Jack. He rubbed the back of his head where she’d beamed him, a subtle reminder of who hurt whom.

“What?” Harvey glared at Jack. “You didn’t let this filthy sneak-thief seduce you?”

“Now, now,” Jack said. “Let’s not start calling names. I suppose you originally gotten that Shield of Azure you’d sold to the museum through completely legal means.”

“I paid for it!”

“From a crooked archeologist, I’m sure.”

Harvey advanced, flexing his fists. Jack quickly ducked to one side and sidestepped himself behind Sandra. He wasn’t in any kind of condition to endure even one more punch. His head was achy and blurry enough as it was.

“And just think, I gave up my chance to escape to save you,” he muttered.

Sandra held up her hands and, thankfully, stayed between her brother and Jack. “Stop this,” she said. “Jack is Jack. He’s harmless.”

That stung. Harmless generally meant an easy target, a doormat to be walked all over or (he rubbed the back of his sore head) a cat burglar to be used and tossed aside.

He needed to stop being so damned nice to women.

“Tell me, Harvey. What’s going to happen to us?” she asked, echoing Jack’s earlier question.

Harvey sighed deeply. His suspicious gaze was still locked on Jack. It probably looked cowardly for him to stay hiding behind Sandra like that. Jack didn’t care. His head was throbbing like a hammer. The pain put a damper on his caring about anything much beyond his immediate safety.

“I worked a deal with Horton. He will take us with him back to Azuria in the Andes. There, I’ve promised to identify the men who stole the golden shield in the first place.”

“But they have the shield. Why would Horton--really, Josie Horton’s behind this? Why would he kidnap Jack and me?”

“I’m sorry, sis. You’re here to serve as extra incentive for me to hand those men over to them.” At least Harvey had the good sense to look like he regretted involving family in his dirty dealings.

Jack would take a bullet to the heart before letting his sister get involved in anything he did.

His poor sister. She must be frantic with worry by now...and spitting fire. Even though he’d always kept her at arm’s length, he realized with a shock that she was still involved no matter what. She loved him and worried about him all the time. And he’d put her through hell. He winced, realizing he was no better than Harvey.

He was--he hated to admit--a bad brother.

“So they hold us until they get their hands on the men who sold you the shield. Is that it?” Her voice was growing tight.

“Yes,” Harvey mumbled. “They plan to hold you and me until they deal out their vigilante justice.”

“And what about Jack?”

Harvey shrugged.

“What about me?” Jack asked as he pushed Sandra out of the way and advanced on Harvey.

The door flew open behind them before he could beat an answer out of Harvey. A slim man, his skin darkly tanned, entered behind three guards each with a submachine gun slung over a shoulder. The man’s suit was a neatly tailored hand-stitched, expensive piece of work. It was the kind of suit Jack would have worn before his arrest.

“You complicate my life,” the man said, wearily.

“My sister delivered the Shield of Azure. You should be pleased.”

“Harvey, Harvey, you should have never smuggled it out of Azuria in the first place.” He crossed the room with a lazy stride and stopped in front of Sandra. He caressed her cheek with an intimacy that left Jack gnashing his teeth.

“Josie,” Sandra said, with a deep purr. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” the words slipped like velvet from his mouth. “You remember my brother.” He gave a nod to one of the guards.

“Hello, Marcus.” Sandra’s blue eyes hardened as her gaze settled on Horton’s bigger and uglier brother. “Are you still torturing baby animals?”

The guard answered with a menacing snarl.

Horton chuckled. “We don’t have any baby birds on this ship. He’ll just have to make due with your cat burglar, here.”

“Wait a minute,” Jack said as the other two guards grabbed each of his arms. Horton’s brother graced him with a wide, gap-toothed grin. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been able to get that stupid shield.”

“He was just a tool. Wasn’t he, Sandra?” Horton asked.

Harvey had settled on a little cot. He seemed pleased to stay well out of anyone’s way.

Sandra looked at her brother, then Horton, and finally her eye met Jack’s. There was no reading her hard gaze. The thin line of her lips worried him, though.

“He was a tool,” those glossy lips said.

Jack spat out an ugly curse, his anger directed more toward himself than at Sandra. He should have expected all along that an angel like that would be the one to swing his final deathblow.

* * * * *

The lemony cologne Josie Horton favored tickled Sandra’s nose. At one time that exotic scent would have turned her knees all quivery. Now it was her stomach that did a little flip-flop.

She reached out and took Josie’s neatly manicured hand. If she’d known he’d been behind her brother’s kidnapping, she would have handled things differently.

“These men Harvey purchased the Shield of Azure from,” she asked, “They stole it out of your vault?”

He nodded. “It was a great insult to my power. It had to have been an inside job. Such a betrayal cannot go unpunished.”

Josie sold drugs to his little corner of the world. It had made him a very rich and powerful man. That kind of power held a certain allure. She ran her hand up his arm. There was very little muscle tone. His strength came from the men he’d employed to enforce his will.

“You always respected honesty,” she said with a soothing tone. She eased up onto the tips of her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his mouth.

“Sandra?” Jack’s plaintive cry hit her like a blow. The yelp that followed nearly brought her to her knees.

“Get him out of here,” Josie said as he snaked his arm around Sandra’s waist. She slid her hand into his suit coat, caressing his chest. “Have your sick way with him, Marcus. Just be sure to toss whatever’s left of the body overboard before we reach port.”

Jack yelped like a hurt puppy again. It took all of Sandra’s willpower to keep from rushing to his side.

“Don’t let my sister worry about me,” Jack wrenched the words out from behind wheezing pain. “Please, Sandra.”

Marcus chuckled when Jack cried out a defiant, but pained, curse.

Sandra buried her face in Josie’s coat, not wanting to know what Josie’s monster of a brother was doing to Jack. She just wanted it to stop.

“I told you not to do that in front of me. Get him out of here,” Josie said, sharply. He rubbed a steadying hand up and down Sandra’s spine.

Marcus grunted. He couldn’t speak. Someone more perverse than him had once cut out his tongue. He could only grunt like an animal.

The door squeaked as someone opened it. It would soon be all over, she assured herself, while Jack’s last frantic plea to reassure his sister echoed in her head. Don’t let her worry about me.

With a smooth motion she swept the semi-automatic pistol from Josie’s shoulder holster and pressed its barrel against his forehead. From the corner of her eye she saw Harvey leap up from the cot.

“What are you doing?” her brother hissed.

Josie narrowed his eyes and glared as the guards advanced.

“Tell them to back off,” Sandra said. “Or I just might have to put a hole in your head.”

“Sandra! Put that down!” Harvey shouted. He grabbed her shoulder.

“Let go, brother, my finger is shaky enough. I don’t need your help.”

“Everyone back off,” Josie whispered. A bit of his shiny tan drained away.

“Jack?” Sandra said. She prayed he was still in the room. She didn’t dare take her eyes off her target to look.

“Yeah...Sandra?” His voice sounded thin, weak.

“Marcus and those two guards are going to hand you their guns. Aren’t they, Josie?”

“Do it,” Josie barked.

The men grunted and huffed. It must have torn at their villainous warriors’ hearts to give up their weapons.

“That’s a good boy, and let me see what’s in your boot there,” Jack said, sounding much more like his arrogant self again. “I’ve got three submachine guns, two knifes, and one bloodied brass knuckle.”

“Good.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. Those self-defense classes had taught her many things, like to keep breathing deeply and to stay as calm as possibly. Still, no amount of concentration could steady her trembling hand. And that worried her. She didn’t want to accidentally shoot anyone...even Josie.

“Okay, this is the plan.” Keep talking, she told herself. Keep in control. “Josie, you are going to lead us to that yacht you’ve got hoisted over the side of this ship. You’re going to lower it and ride ashore with us. Do you understand?”

“Sandra, don’t make me your enemy,” he warned.

“I’m not trying to be your enemy. You’ve got your treasure but didn’t hold up your end of the bargain. I’m simply working on self-preservation. Jack?”

“I’m here.” He touched her shoulder.

“Shoot anyone who comes too close to us, okay?”

“Got it.”

With the guards backed far away from the door, Josie led them to his yacht. It was the same one they’d used to ferry Jack and her out to the cargo ship. Harvey followed along, grumbling about how they were making a huge mistake. Sandra had to finally tell him that he’d no business lecturing her about mistakes.

Once on the yacht and safely moving away from the cargo ship, Sandra’s muscles turned to water. Josie’s gun slipped from her fingers and clattered to the deck as she collapsed.

Jack’s arms were suddenly around her, supporting her.

“We’re almost there, darling,” he said and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Harvey, tie up your friend before he hurts someone.”

Sandra closed her eyes and hung on to Jack from several minutes, savoring the security he gave her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You owe me,” he said.

* * * * *

Jack steered the yacht toward port. Against his better judgment, Sandra had radioed the police. The flashing lights waiting for them had been visible from quite a distance.

He shivered as he imagined what being sent back to his bleak cell in prison would do to him. He’d broken just about every provision in his parole agreement. This wasn’t something he’d be able to charm his way out of.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sandra asked again.

“Yeah,” he said. It was a lie. He didn’t know what hurt worse, his battered head, the ribs that were surely broken, or her betrayal.

For some foolish reason, he’d begun to see a future with her. They’d travel the world in style. Partners in crime. A perfect match.

Yep, he was damned fool.

At least she was too squeamish to let Horton and his buddies kill him in cold blood. For that, he supposed he was grateful. But remembering the hell of prison made him wonder whether his being alive was a blessing or a curse.

The yacht bobbed in the water as several police officers tied it up to the dock.

The FBI agents were the first ones to rush onto the boat. Three greeted Sandra as if she were an old chum. Jack supposed it was her sunny personality that had that affect on men.

A stony-faced agent approached him. “Jack Gallo,” he said as he latched his arm around his. “Nearly half the state has been looking for you. Needless to say, we’ve got a lot of questions we need answered.”

“He needs medical care,” Sandra shouted out, as she was lead in one direction and Jack in another.

Harvey was nowhere in sight. He must have slipped away in the confusion--just as Jack should have done. Damn, his instincts were slipping.

“You look like death, Mr. Gallo,” another agent joined the first one and said. “There’s an ambulance waiting. Sandra had insisted you needed one, and I can now see why. We’ll talk while the paramedics take a look at you.”

“Great, just great,” Jack muttered.

He turned and caught Sandra staring after him. Their gazes touched, and in that brief moment he forgave her. She’d done what she needed to do to save her brother. Her bravery had been noble. Who was he to find fault? He’d been the one who was fool enough to follow along.

Hell, who was he kidding?

It was always a woman...

* * * * *

Jack couldn’t believe his luck. The FBI agents had given him a stern lecture. They even threatened to send him straight to prison if he didn’t use the plane ticket to Boise they’d stuffed into his pocket.

Josie Horton, it seems, was a big fish. One with big teeth. The agents were thrilled to have finally netted him, thrilled enough to not dig too hard about the museum break-in. They took the glory and Jack got to keep his freedom.

Seemed like a fair trade-off.

“Can I help you with that bag, sir?” an airline stewardess with long, ebony hair and legs that seemed to go on forever asked. Her hand brushed his as she took his small carryon bag and stuffed it into the overhead compartment. She blinked her deep brown eyes that should have left him melting.

Jack cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said, stiffly, and tamped down an urge to flash her one of his trademark grins.

His sister was willing to give him a second chance. He wasn’t going to blow it. It was the straight line for him, which meant no more women. After the trouble and worry his sister had suffered thanks to him, it was the least he could do.

He settled into his seat by the window and stared out onto the runway. This was his new beginning. It wouldn’t be glamorous or exciting. But he was getting too old for all that anyhow. And he certainly didn’t need a woman.

He sighed, knowing the last was a lie.

“Excuse me,” the sultry voice of a fallen angel sang. Jack closed his eyes, unable to trust his hearing. “I believe this is my seat.”

Slowly, he looked up. For some reason, he’d been convinced he’d never see her again. They hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye that night on the yacht. That was one thing he’d thought he’d always regret.

“You’re on this flight?” he asked, stupidly. Of course she was. She was sitting right next to him, wasn’t she? He blinked, not able to believe his luck.

“I’m going home,” she said.

“To Boise?”

“Not exactly, Boise. I’m the librarian--I know it’s not as exciting as cat burglar--in a small town near Boise. I live in a town so small, no one ever recognizes the name.”

Jack took Sandra’s slender hands in his. “Wouldn’t happen to be called Blissville, would it?” he asked, tracing little circles over the tops of her knuckles. His heart did a flip when she nodded slowly. “Funny, that’s where I’m heading, too.”

Ah well, Jack thought as the plane raced down the runway, this was one woman worth holding onto...

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