“Well, doesn’t she know you? I mean, you had minor roles in at least a dozen of her movies.”
“Ah. Yes. Well, that’s true. I suppose we were somewhat acquainted.”
She’d rubbed her temples. “Gramps, your reputation as some mysterious cat burglar might have made you a romantic figure back in the forties, but nowadays she would’ve just called the cops.”
“You’re right, you’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
She hadn’t expected such quick agreement anddecided not to press the point. “Tell me about Emily’s house.”
He had. Describing the very balcony on which she now stood, the trellis he’d climbed just a week before and the bedroom that he’d navigated to find the necklace. The thought made her queasy. Dear Lord, what if he’d fallen and broken his neck?
“I’llreturn it,” she’d said. And she hadn’t been willing to entertain any arguments.
Now, as she stood on the balcony, she realized for the first time that he hadn’t actuallymadeany arguments. Instead he’d simply nodded his head, looking a bit like a scolded puppy, as he’d proceeded to describe the best way into Miss Emily’s mansion.
“And you should go tonight,” he’d added. “According to this morning’s paper, Miss Emily is having a party. She always shuts her alarm system off while the festivities are going on.”
“And you know this how?”
He’d looked affronted.
She’d waved the question away. “Never mind. You did your homework. Fine. I’ll go tonight.”
And now here she was, standing on a darkened balcony outside Emily Radley’s bedroom, a half-million-dollar necklace in her fanny pack along with various tools of the trade.
It was a ridiculous, inconvenient, annoying situation,and the hell of it was she hadn’t felt such a rush in the past eight months.
She was back in the game and she was enjoying it to the max.
Considering she’d officially retired the day she’d graduated, the trill of excitement in her blood was a very bad sign indeed.
Below her, little electric torches lined the circular driveway, their flickering light causing the shadows to dance across the balcony. She tried to stay in the dark, but it was difficult, and she hoped that no one would step outside and look up. If they did, hopefully the black stretch denim jeans and black turtleneck T-shirt would keep her unseen in the shadows.
Careful to avoid big movements, she tested the doorknob, the latex gloves she’d slipped on before entering the grounds ensuring that she wouldn’t leave any telltale fingerprints.
Locked.
A minor setback, but hardly insurmountable. She could pick the lock. And, if she couldn’t, she had contact paper and glass cutters in the fanny pack. She pulled out a set of picks and set to work. One minute…three…five…
Damn. One more try, and if she didn’t get it, she was going to have to go through the glass. She guided in the pin, twisted, and—
Success.
The tumblers fell into place and the lock turned. Thank goodness.
She slipped inside and automatically moved away from the doorway, then braced for the squeal of an alarm, even though Gramps had sworn that Emily would have disarmed the thing. When fifteen seconds passed without an ear-splitting screech, she finally relaxed, then scanned the moonlit room, letting her eyes adjust as she took in the ornate furniture, the canopied bed, the overstuffed armchairs and the cherry wood vanity.
An antique mirror in a gilded frame hung on the far wall, and she headed in that direction, certain the safe was behind the heavy frame. She peeked under the corner and, sure enough, there it was.
Taking care, she lifted the heavy frame, revealing the metal face of a standard, somewhat old-fashioned, wall safe. She shook her head, quelling the urge to make atsk-tsknoise. Really, you’d think superrich people would keep their jewelry in state-of-the-art safes, not some old dinosaur that she could access without even breaking a sweat.
Working fast, she opened her fanny pack and removed an instrument that helped her as she felt for the hesitations that marked the numbers of the combination. She’d figured them out in about five minutes, took another six minutes to get the order correct, then dialed in the correct combination.
Click. The tumblers fell into place, and she pulled the safe’s door open.
Just like riding a bicycle.
Black velvet boxes filled the safe, some open, others still closed. Items of jewelry peeked out, strands of pearls tangled with diamond bracelets…sapphires gleaming in the low light…rubies sparkling like sin.
