Blue Steal Read online

  No one had told her it would be so hard, especially because she refused to date arseholes—she had no intention of spending her life with a man she couldn’t stand, and she didn’t want Anna and nonna around that either.

  Then she’d found Richard. In his forties, old money, hopelessly disorganised and totally ineffectual, but sweet to her. They’d dated for a year or so before he’d asked her to marry him. She’d said yes immediately, then with great trepidation, introduced him to Anna and nonna. He’d been a little apprehensive at first, but relaxed when he realised that Selina had everything under control and there’d be no burden on him.

  There was only one problem—he loved her desperately, and as sweet as he was, she was never going to feel the same way. It hurt him, and because of that, she hated herself. In the end, she’d broken it off.

  She changed strategies, choosing instead to do as much as she could for herself. She’d taken on even more responsibility at work, made herself truly indispensable and pushed for a higher salary. But there was a limit to how much an office assistant, even an executive one, could earn. And it wasn’t enough to pay for the equipment that would allow Anna to access the experimental treatment for dystonia.

  Live and let live … Yeah right. Jack might pretend to be all open mind and casual charm, but he wasn’t. There was something deeply judgemental in him. It was an attitude she couldn’t stand. No one had the right to judge someone until they’d walked a mile in their shoes.

  Diamonds and Mercs? Try hospital bills, specialist fees and medical equipment. His assumptions had made her mad and she’d overreacted. Overplayed the gold-digger bit.

  She’d lied about being on the lookout for her next target. She wasn’t actively looking, but at the same time … She’d accepted that grand passion just wasn’t her lot. If she found a guy, just like Richard but without the complication of unrequited love …

  Jack wasn’t that guy. He made her heart beat faster, he heated every inch of her skin, he sent strange, delicious thrills racing along every nerve in her body, but he wasn’t that guy.

  In fact, for all intents and purposes, he was the enemy.

  She knew that, but sitting across from each other in the linen room … Jack hadn’t seemed like a stranger. Such a secluded little space, it had felt like they were the only two people in existence, somewhere at the end of time and space.

  He’d held her hand and he’d thought about kissing her. She’d seen it. God knows she’d thought about kissing him.

  Was it that room? Is that what it had been like for nonna and Andrew? The two of them, snatching time in their own secret corner of the universe? No wonder they’d fallen in love.

  And as for not being that into sex? Well, that wasn’t much of an exaggeration either. In her experience, it ranged between making-shopping-lists boring and mildly pleasant—certainly nothing to start wars over.

  She had her suspicions that she was missing out. She had her suspicions that her strict policy on who she did and didn’t date might have something to do with it. She had her suspicions that with a guy like Jack …

  She couldn’t breathe with the pillow jammed against her face.

  She tossed it to the side and stared at her favourite patch of ceiling. Okay, so she still couldn’t quite believe the direction their conversation had taken, couldn’t believe the things she’d said, but at least she hadn’t given anything away about the necklace.

  Oh God, the necklace. What was she going to do?

  Chapter 6

  A few sleepless hours after he’d parted from Selina, Jack strode into his East Melbourne offices. De Crespigny was only a fifteen-minute walk from the Empire, and he’d needed to get out for a while. All that decaying mustard and burgundy was like something from the Twilight Zone. The place was doing his head in.

  Or maybe it was Selina who was doing his head in.

  Either way he needed a fresh perspective. Some mental space to figure things out.

  And most importantly, the help of his secret weapon.

  Decorated in a palate of greys, creams and blacks with expensive antique mahogany furniture, de Crespigny looked more like the top-notch broking firms he used to work in than the stereotypical gumshoe office. Like everything about Charles, it spoke of sophistication and a whole stack of old money. But then, Charles was old money. Norman-conquest old. He’d never used one, but Jack was still convinced he could pull out a title if he wanted to. Viscount, maybe. Or Earl.

  ‘Boy Wonder returns,’ came flying at him the second he stepped into the reception area. Jack glanced over to where their newest recruit Kelly was standing with Clarissa at reception, snarky and sneering as usual.

  Maybe Kelly wasn’t usually sneering. Maybe it was just for him.

  It was good to be back.

  Far be it for him to disappoint. He dropped into an elaborate bow. ‘Sweetness and light,’ he directed at Kelly, before swivelling a little for another bow. ‘Fair Clarissa.’

  ‘Hi Jack,’ Clarissa said with quiet calm and a small smile. She returned her attention to the screen in front of her, and as if on cue, her hair fell down to cover her face. Small with unremarkable soft features—unremarkable until you got to know her at least—Clarissa was brilliant at hiding in plain sight. Which was why he’d recruited her. That, and her ability to observe and retain every detail of what was happening around her. No one saw her, but she saw everything. Handy.

  Kelly just rolled her eyes. ‘I hope you’re here to help. While you’ve been gallivanting around pretending to find some jewels, some of us have had to pick up the slack.’

  The contrast between Clarissa and the six-foot of fierce Amazonian ex-cop that was Kelly was pointed. Kelly’s hair was pulled back into what was once her regulation ponytail, and she was dressed in tight black jeans, black ankle boots and a tight white shirt. He figured that was as close to her beloved uniform as she could get.

  It wasn’t just in looks that the two women were opposites. Kelly: massive chip, shoulder, et cetera. To be honest, he couldn’t blame her. A whistle-blower who’d ended up fired for having the guts and the moral conscience to speak out, she had a right to be fairly pissed off with the way things had turned out.

  ‘Thanks for the tip, Kelly, I think that’s going to work,’ Clarissa, ever the peacemaker, intervened quietly.

  ‘Good.’ Finishing her coffee, Kelly threw her paper cup in the bin. ‘And don’t forget, you got most of the way there yourself.’

  Clarissa had just gained her investigative licence and, mentored by Kelly, was gathering skills at the speed of light. Curious, Jack was about to go and ask what trick Kelly had just shown her when Charles emerged from his office.

  ‘Jack. Good timing. As always. Meeting room in five,’ Charles said, already halfway across reception on his way there.

  ‘I didn’t come to attend a meeting,’ he said to the back of Charles’s head.

  He needed to get back to the Empire as soon as he could. He was edgy about leaving the hotel, edgy about leaving Selina there unattended. He was ninety-five per cent confident it was safe—her next move would be to have another go at the linen room and she wouldn’t be able to get back in and search until tonight—but he didn’t like it. There was too much he didn’t understand about what was going on.

  Charles didn’t even break his stride. ‘You can spare fifteen minutes.’

  ‘No, I can’t.’ He wanted to do what he’d come to do and get back.

  Charles slowed, turned to face Jack. ‘We’ve got a rapidly accumulating backlog of work, none of which is in our best interests to turn down. We need to devise a strategy for getting through the next few months.’

  ‘What’s the problem exactly?’

  ‘Simple as it gets—too much work,’ Charles stated in his usual calm, matter-of-fact tone.

  ‘Learn to say no,’ Jack replied.

  ‘No,’ Charles replied pointedly, with his usual dry, understated humour.

  Jack understood where Charles was coming fr
om. He wouldn’t want to turn down work, especially if it was strategically important. The firm had hit a rough patch a few years ago, when the economy was struggling and there was less need for the background checks and due diligence work that kept them going. They’d well and truly come out of that now, but Charles being Charles would still be cautious about protecting relationships with long-term clients.

  ‘Let’s save the discussion for the meeting,’ Charles added. ‘Ten minutes, tops.’

  Looked like there was no getting out of it.

  Jack followed Charles into their small conference room. Charles took a seat and started leafing through a stack of paper. Jack headed for the windows, admiring the view of the verdant Fitzroy Gardens.

  ‘I can think of another solution to our human resource constraint,’ Charles said from behind him. ‘Drop the Petrovsky case.’

  Nope. Not going to happen. Jack turned to face Charles. ‘We agreed I’d spend this week looking for the necklace.’

  Charles looked up. ‘Before this deluge,’ he waved at the stack in front of him. ‘And before you’d had a chance to assess the situation. You’ve had that chance now—are you going to find it?’

  When Jack had first arrived at the Empire he would have said it was unlikely. He had nothing. But now … Well, now he had Selina. Who knew something. Possibly even everything. Did that mean he was likely to find the necklace? ‘It’s not impossible,’ he said slowly.

  A pause as Charles digested that. ‘But it’s not probable,’ he concluded. ‘So we’ll advise the client we’re not taking the case?’

  There was no way in hell Jack was walking away now. ‘Give me the week.’

  Charles leaned back a little in his seat, gaze assessing. ‘A week our clients are paying for, with scant probability of reward?’

  ‘It’s not like the Petrovskys can’t afford it.’

  ‘Of course they can afford it. That’s hardly the point.’

  ‘It’s there, Charles. The necklace is in that hotel somewhere.’

  ‘Your “gut”?’ Charles queried sceptically.

  ‘Yes.’

  Charles didn’t bother voicing his opinion on that. Despite what he believed, Jack got results. ‘Do you have anything solid at all?’

  Solid. Was catching Selina in the linen room last night solid evidence that the necklace was still at the Empire? She hadn’t even admitted she was looking for it. And he had no way of evaluating how reliable her information was. ‘No,’ he conceded reluctantly. ‘But I do have one promising lead.’

  Another pause. ‘Tell me this isn’t about a woman.’

  Jack grinned. Charles might treat ‘gut instinct’ with derision, but he had an uncanny knack of getting straight to the point.

  If Charles had been the type to groan, he would have. Instead, he merely raised one cynical eyebrow. ‘I thought you’d grown out of that stage.’

  So Jack had had a few wild years. In his final years of high school, he’d spent a great deal of his time and energy chasing girls—pretty, preppy, private school princesses. Charles, who’d looked on with amused disapproval at the time, hadn’t forgotten.

  ‘This one’s extra pretty,’ Jack joked. And it was a joke, he realised, because while any red-blooded male would fancy Selina, it was more than that which drew him to her. It was … Fuck, it sounded stupid. He’d known her for less than forty-eight hours.

  ‘Jack. We’re being paid by the Petrovskys to find a necklace. If you don’t think there’s a reasonable chance you’re going to find it, you should pull out. Attractive female or no.’

  Female? That kind of clinical detachment might go some way to explaining why Charles hadn’t found someone to get serious about. That and his obsessive, control-freak tendencies.

  Not his business, but Jack had always thought the women Charles dated were wrong for him. Nothing against the ladies themselves, they were all intelligent, driven and interesting women. But Charles was serious and sombre enough on his own. He didn’t need a woman with a sleek bob, a well-tailored pant suit and matte lipstick adding to it. They lasted a year or two before they realised that while Charles would never mistreat them or cheat on them, he was never going to marry them either. His first priority, his deepest commitment, was always to his lost sister.

  ‘Cherchez la femme, Charles. Selina’s deep in this case.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Yet. That’s what he’d come here to try and figure out. ‘Look, there’s a fair chance she’s going to all but deliver that necklace into my hands.’ Could he really doubt that she was going to try for the linen room again? And this time, he’d been waiting to relieve her.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Tonight would be my best guess.’

  ‘So in that case, you’ll be available from tomorrow?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You expect to recover the necklace tonight, but you won’t be available for other work tomorrow.’

  ‘Correct.’ Because even if Selina delivered the necklace to him later this evening, this case wasn’t done. It just … wasn’t. Something was wrong, and he couldn’t just walk away not having set it right. ‘I’m taking the week.’

  ‘Jack, I’m not about to start telling you which jobs you should or shouldn’t take—’

  ‘This arrangement wouldn’t work if you did,’ Jack interrupted.

  ‘Your case, your call,’ Charles continued calmly. He looked back down at the papers in front of him, the lack of eye contact a sure sign he was going to say something personal. ‘And further to that, I’ve offered you a full partnership on multiple occasions. Consider the position permanently open, should you change your mind.’

  Jack knew he only had to say the word to join Charles as Partner and Director.

  He’d considered it seriously, on multiple occasions. But detective work wasn’t something he’d chosen. He’d just sort of ended up here when he’d hit a dead-end. He was happy to help out as long as Charles needed him, but he wasn’t sure if he was in it for the long haul.

  Before he had a chance to express that, and his gratitude for the offer, Kelly and Clarissa entered the room, steaming cups in their hands.

  Bitter, black coffee for Kelly; sweet, milky tea for Clarissa. Sounded about right.

  Charles stood and handed out sheets of paper across the table. ‘So, our personnel problem …’

  ***

  Selina took the lift down to the lobby, wondering for the million-and-seventeenth time whether the time had come to cut her losses and get the hell out. Before she ended up in serious trouble. Fat lot of good she’d do her sister from a jail cell.

  She’d never thought stealing the necklace would be easy, but she had thought it would be relatively straightforward. Find a way to get into the linen room, locate the necklace, leave. Worst case scenario: not find the necklace, leave.

  She hadn’t reckoned on Jack.

  He’d thwarted her first attempt, and she had to seriously question whether she’d get another chance. Tyler had said he was used to the crazies coming out at night, but yet another disturbance might be pushing it. She certainly couldn’t expect him to come and search for another out-of-control clock radio.

  And if the Tyler situation was challenging, the Jack situation was impossible. She still couldn’t believe he’d worked his way from a noise complaint to trapping her in the linen room.

  How could anyone make those kinds of deductions at that kind of speed?

  It was his line of work, if she’d interpreted him correctly, but still. That kind of mental acuity was dangerous, and after last night, he’d be all over her. Watching her like the world’s blondest hawk.

  She’d spent long hours after Jack had let her go coming up with a new plan so that that couldn’t happen. From a practical perspective, there was much to do. She needed to buy new equipment. She needed to make a trip home …

  Would it work?

  Would she actually go through with it?

  She didn’t like it, but she d
idn’t like the alternative—leaving empty handed—either.

  Common sense said to go—how could this possibly end well from here? And yet …

  This was it. This was her shot to change her life. She wasn’t sure she could just walk away from that. So here she still was, preparing to play with fire. And worse, much worse.

  She bit down on her lip hard enough to hurt.

  ‘Ms Migliore?’ Someone calling her name through the lobby.

  Selina came to a stop, casting around for the speaker.

  ‘Excuse me, Ms Migliore?’ Hailey at the front desk, trying to attract her attention.

  Selina walked to the desk, noticing that Hailey was looking at her a little oddly. Curiosity, and maybe a little … awe? Seems Selina was forgiven for being a stubborn pain-in-the-arse when she’d first arrived.

  ‘Message for you,’ Hailey said, holding out a folded piece of paper.

  A bad feeling balled and dropped through the pit of her stomach. She’d had messages delivered before, and it was never good.

  Mostly—always—something had gone wrong with her sister.

  Her fingers itched to retrieve her phone from her handbag, to check for missed calls, but instead she reached for the note from Hailey. Whatever it was would be written there.

  Unfolding the paper, her heart thudded against her ribs.

  Please, please don’t let it be too bad.

  She scanned anxiously.

  Not what she’d expected. No hasty scribbles, while Hailey did her best as some nurse or doctor at the other end of the phone tried to explain symptoms she had no idea about. In fact, it had nothing to do with Anna or nonna at all. At least not directly.

  It was so far from what she’d been expecting, Selina had to read the elegant scrawl three times to absorb it.

  Dear Ms Migliore

  The honour of your presence is requested in the dining room at your earliest convenience.

  Yours truly,

  Lewis Holloway

  Chapter 7

  Lewis Holloway. Requesting her presence.