Thief (7 page)

“In the back, Raven,” Marc said.

“Scoot over, little thief. It’s tight in the back.” His deep voice had a gruff tone, like he talked a lot. He had an accent. It almost sounded Russian.

Marc sighed and lifted the middle console. I harrumphed but slid over. I tried glaring at the dashboard, not wanting to be noticed, but despite my being irritated, Raven was pretty hot. The black tank shirt was tight to his body, and he wore dark blue jeans and boots.

Did the secret police somehow just happen to recruit the best looking guys? I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I kind of didn’t mind this. What really drove me crazy was they knew more about me than I did of them.

Marc pulled out of the lot. Raven stabbed his seatbelt into place and then planted an arm around my shoulders, holding onto the side of Marc’s headrest.

“So this is our thief?” Raven asked. “I expected someone ...”

I turned my head, meeting his dark eyes and dared him to say blond or with bigger boobs ... or that he expected me to be a boy.

He smirked, his lip ring protruding. “Uglier,” he said, thickening the accent.

“I could show you ugly if you’d like,” I said.

Raven huffed once. “With that face? I doubt it.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that, but my insides were squirming. “Where are we going now?” I asked.

“We’ll go meet up with the guys,” Marc said. He picked up his cell phone, and started poking at the screen. “Let me wait to talk about it there so I’m not repeating myself.”

“You need to call the boss and wake him up,” Raven said. He nudged his side into mine, leaning a little into me, more than he needed. “He wanted in on this.”

“Who’s the boss?” I asked. “You mean that old man?”

“Dr. Roberts,” Marc said, still poking a text message while he was driving. He didn’t seem to struggle with handling both, but it still made me nervous.

“Do you mean Dr. Roberts? He’s your boss?”

“No,” Marc said.

“Is it the tall guy?”

“Huh?”

“The guy who wore the red jacket yesterday?”

He poked at his phone more. “Nuh uh.”

I glanced at him and then the road. I wasn’t sure he was paying attention to me or the road. He was following another car way closer than I was comfortable with. Since he was still playing with his phone, I snagged it from his hands.

Marc grunted. “Give it back, Bambi.”

“Stop calling me that. And I’ll text for you. Keep your eyes on the road.” I glanced at the screen. “Who’s Jenny?”

Marc scowled at me. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Jenny: I want to talk to you.

Marc: I don’t want to talk.

Jenny: I just need to know.

“A clinger, huh?” I asked.

Raven laughed next to me. “All American girls are like that. Even a few of the boys.”

“How would you know?” Marc asked.

Raven lifted his arm, reaching across my shoulders and leaning into me to ruffle his fingers through Marc’s hair. “Come on, pretty boy. Give the girl the boot already.”

Marc waved Raven off. “Stop it.”

“You’ve got to cut this off,” I said. “Clingers stay for as long as you talk to them.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” Marc said. “She’s a sweet girl, but she’s a pain in the ass. Calling all the time to see where I’m at. She’s always claiming someone’s hurting her and she needs to be saved. She’s kind of crazy.”

“Is that your type? Sweet and crazy?” I asked.

Marc pulled a face but didn’t respond.

I could sympathize with him. I once dated a guy who tried to cut himself to get me to come over. Those types start out really sweet, but end up being psycho when you try to get rid of them. “Here,” I said. I typed in a response and sent it.

Marc frowned. “What did you do?” He snagged the phone out of my hand, checking the message.

“I just told her you’re out on a date.”

“What? I told her I was at work.”

“A date will make her mad.”

“I don’t want her mad.”

“Mad is good,” I said. “If you want a girl to go away, you’ve got to piss her off.”

Marc stopped at a red light and turned his head to me. “Is that how you treat people? You must be a fucking barrel of peaches to your boyfriend.”

“Yup. I tell him where to go and he goes,” I fibbed. Ha. Boyfriend.

Marc squinted at me. “Holy shit. You’re single.”

“Aw,” Raven said. He planted a palm on my head and massaged my scalp. “Little thief, don’t worry about it. I’ve got you now.”

I reached out, popping him on the chest with a loose fist. “Stop touching me.”

He hooted, laughed and dropped his hand from my head and rubbed at the spot where I’d hit him. “I like it. Feisty.”

“Back off, Raven,” Marc said.

“You make the claim or she’s fair game.”

I waved off Raven and pointed to Marc’s phone. "Why don't you just tell her you didn't like her."

He sighed. "It's not that easy. I feel horrible. I mean she felt so strong about it that I was wondering why I didn't feel anything at all. I thought something was wrong with me. She's pretty and she's sweet. Isn't there supposed to be a spark or wiggly feelings or something?"

"You were waiting on wiggly sparks?"

He brushed a palm across his face. "Forget it. Why am I telling you all this? I don't even know you." He shook his head. "Anyway, I guess it doesn't matter now."

“She may be mad for now, but she may try to weasel back. If she comes back, you'll have to be mean. You can't backtrack or she'll keep doing this."

He sighed heavily enough that his broad shoulders lifted and fell. "I don't know if I can do that to a girl."

"You do a pretty good job making me mad. What’s the difference?"

He made a face. "I think you barely qualify as a girl."

I harrumphed.

He waved his hand in front of himself. "I don't mean it in a bad way. Don't take things so seriously."

"We'll see if you feel the same way when I start calling you Mary instead of Marc."

He smirked and karate chopped me in the corner of my neck and shoulder, causing me to cringe. "Shut up."

I grunted, running my fingers through my hair to get it out of my eyes. “Can’t we just get this over with so I can say no and go home?”

“Almost there,” Marc said.

Marc pulled into a parking lot of a tall, dull brick building on the southern edge of the Charleston peninsula, really close to the river and the bay. I’d been by the place a few times, but never really took a good look at it. It appeared to be an office tower, so it wasn’t interesting to me before. “What’s this? Is this where you work?”

“This is home,” he said. “Welcome to the Sergeant Jasper.”

“It’s an apartment building?” I asked. It appeared so plain from the highway. Weren’t apartments a little nicer looking? Like with gardens and fountains? Or at least a brick front office with a sign out front that told people what it was?

“Go Detective Kaylie,” Raven said. He opened the door, unfolding himself to step out. I followed. He grabbed the gold box that was on the floor. “What’s this?”

Before I could answer, he had the box open and picked out a piece of truffle. He sniffed it, and took a bite. “Not bad,” he said, licking his lips.

“Hey,” I said. “Save me one.”

“
Kto ne uspel - tot opozdal
,” he said.

“Huh?”

“You snooze, you lose,” Marc said. “Give her the box, Raven.”

“Don’t worry. I’m just carrying it for her. It’s not my type. I prefer a steak.” He smirked as he passed by me. “Or a nice bite of a good-looking bird.”

I waited until he had turned around before I gulped.

I let the guys walk ahead of me. I could smell the ocean breeze from where we were. Part of the bridge that crossed the Ashley River and headed to John’s Island stuck out in the horizon. I guessed that people on the upper floors could possibly see more of the bay and a good portion of the water. I sensed the water was just beyond where I could see.

I’d have given up my left eyeball to live in such a place. This close to the islands and downtown? With a view of the water? Sign me up.

I followed the guys to the lobby, where a security guard was perched at a desk. She glanced up, nodded quickly, smiled at the two boys, and shared the same smile with me. I pretended to be dazzled by a painting on the wall and avoided eye contact. Felt bad about it after. It was an instinctual reaction to anyone wearing a security uniform.

At the elevator, Raven smacked the buttons and the boys loaded in. I stepped in beside them. Raven held open the door as a couple of guys I didn’t recognize hurried down the hallway and got in.

“What floor?” Marc asked.

“Eleven,” one of the guys said. Marc punched the button, but the guy kept his head turned, looking at me. “Haven’t seen you before. You new?”

I felt an arm sliding around my shoulders. Marc leaned in on me, tilting his head toward mine. His hand squeezed my arm, tucking me into his body. “She’s just visiting.”

Disappointment crept across the guy’s face, but he nodded and turned to stare at the doors.

What a jerk! He didn’t give me a chance to talk myself. As if I needed help letting a guy down. I elbowed Marc in the gut. Marc made a noise that sounded like a smothered groan and eased his arm from around me, but still hung on loosely around my shoulders.

We got off on floor seven. When the elevator doors closed behind us, I pulled away from Marc and got some distance between us. “What was that for?” I asked.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, starting down the hallway. “I just didn’t want you distracted.”

“I can tell a guy no. Or not. Maybe I wanted his phone number.”

“You wouldn’t have asked.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s not your type.”

“How would you know my type?”

Raven pressed his palm against his forehead. “God. You guys sound like you’re already married. This is going to be a disaster.”

“Shut up,” Marc and I said in unison. I glared at him. And he had the audacity to stare right back, smiling like he was enjoying this!

Marc paused in front of Apartment 737. The door was unlocked and he and Raven walked in.

There was a small living area, with a hallway on the left and right The dining nook had several desks around the wall and a couple of computers on top of each. There was a tiny kitchen, with a dingy electric stove, and a worn fridge. For the rest of the apartment, the walls were a hideous off-white and the floors were wall-to-wall with an old beige carpet that was maybe white once. There was a large brown faux leather couch that took up most of the living room, facing a large flat-screen television.

The space also had a heavy smell of coffee and sweetness. I could have mistaken the place for a coffee shop, it was that strong. It made it difficult to ignore, and my stomach wanted to growl.

The only window was high up, the sill above my chest. And took up all of the upper level of the apartment wall on that side. There were vertical blinds that were closed, but there was bright sunlight seeping in between the slats.

I wedged myself between Raven and Marc to cross to the living room. I wanted to snoop. Their fault. They let me in.

“Yeah, sure,” Raven said. He planted the gold box on top of the kitchen counter. “Make yourself at home.”

There was an old wall style heating unit, much like the ones at the hotel. I planted a boot on the top of it, using my palms on the wall to balance myself as I climbed up. It might have been rude, but they were the ones kidnapping me; I felt I could at least poke around where I wanted.

I felt the chill of the wall against my thighs as I leaned against it and inched my way up until I was high enough that I could see out the window and look down.

“Hey,” Raven called.

“Let her look,” Marc said.

“She’s going to break that thing. Or break her head.”

I tried pulling the slats out of the way, but they were the sort that were tied down on both the top and bottom. I glanced around, and found a control pulley that adjusted it. I jumped down off of the heater, grabbed the rope and yanked as hard as I could.

The slats opened up, sliding all the way over. I climbed again, pulling myself up on my elbows on the window ledge to look out.

The view was incredible. At my hotel room, the best I got was the parking lot and an abandoned building that was busted up. This apartment had a view of the water. The edge of John’s Island and homes built up next to the river stood out in the distance. The water lapped and swayed with the current.

Jealousy swept through me. I wanted this.

Raven materialized next to me. He scanned the view and then stretched to look down. “The bridge kind of ruins the view.”

“Have you seen it at night? It looks kind of cool,” Marc said. He came over, standing underneath where I was. “Scoot over, Bambi.”

“Nu uh.”

“I want to see.” He grabbed hold of my arm, using it to help pull himself up onto the heater with us.

We stood together, looking out across the water. “You mean you guys live here and haven’t looked out the window?” I asked.

“If I wanted to go see the fucking water,” Raven said, “I’d go outside. It’s right there.”

“The view’s not bad though,” Marc said. “Too bad the window is so high.”

“What about other apartment buildings?” I asked. It shouldn’t have been important to me right then, but now that I was here, and could see this, I really wanted to daydream about one day managing to afford a place like this. I’d lived in a lot of cruddy places. Once I got rid of Jack, and I didn’t have to worry about Wil, I wanted something close to the water. A girl could dream, right? “Do they have a better view? Or at least lower windows?”

“This is the only one on the peninsula,” Marc said. “At least the only apartment tower. The other apartments are closer to the college. Or the downtown carriage houses.”

“Do you guys go to the college?”

They both laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Long story,” Raven said. He dropped down and then snagged me around the waist, dragging me down to the floor until I was standing. “Get off that thing before you break your ass.”

“Ugh.” I slapped him hard on the arm, right on one of his rose tattoos. “Stop telling me what to do.”