Don't Look Down (26 page)

“Kong’s in Tokyo,” Samantha’s quiet voice came, and he jumped.

“Christ. I thought you said you’d always knock,” he snapped, whipping his gaze up to see her leaning in the doorway. He had no idea how long she’d been there.

“It was open.”

Her auburn hair was damp and loose around her shoulders, her body swathed in a thin cotton robe and, he was certain, nothing else. He drew a slow breath. “Come take a look at this,” he said reluctantly. Much as he wanted her to lose the wager, from her expression she’d already realized something was up. It was either talk or have her jimmy his bloody desk open later.

She moved around to look at the papers over his shoulder. “Financial statement?” she asked after a moment.

“Paradise Realty.”

“Oh, you bad boy. Did Donner get these for you?” Leaning her hands on either of his shoulders, she kissed his ear. “And I thought he was such a Boy Scout.”

“He wasn’t happy about it.” Richard frowned. “It’s not as successful as she lets on, but that just makes her a poor businesswoman—not a murderer.”

“I thought you suspected her.”

He shifted. “I might be leaning in your direction, now. You were right about Daniel’s funds being restricted,” he went on, turning to the trust paperwork. “I don’t have everything here, but there’s definitely something he’s supposed to be doing in order to receive his monthly stipend.”

“Like maybe attend a drug rehab program?”

“Probably. But the trust doesn’t collapse because Charles is dead. Killing him doesn’t free up Daniel’s funds.”

“Not right away. What about a will?”

“It’s complicated, but essentially upon Charles’s death the trust becomes all-encompassing. The monthly payouts are higher, but the conditions and restrictions are the same.”

“Hm. Daniel probably figured the cash and jewelry would be enough until he could charm the court into agreeing to amend the trust.”

“Could be,” Richard agreed. “Laurie mentioned getting out of real estate to take over her father’s chairmanship.”

“So it could be a position she was after, rather than money.”

Richard looked up over his shoulder at her. “I thought
you
suspected Daniel.”

“I’m an equal opportunity suspector.” Slowly she slid her hands down his chest to hug him. “You kind of went above and beyond to get these, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want you walking into anything blind.” It sounded good, anyway.

He felt her smile against his cheek. “You’re such a fucking liar. What, were you going to find the key piece of evidence and slip it to Frank so you could win the bet?”

He began to think there might be such a thing as a partner being
too
bright. “Maybe,” he conceded.

“You are so going to lose.”

Samantha was sound asleep when her phone rang. She sat up in bed, noting the time on the clock’s glowing digital face even as she reached for the phone. “
Hola
?”

“I have some conditions.” It was Laurie.

Rick slid a hand along her bare back as he sat up beside her. “Are you fucking crazy?” Samantha hissed in a low voice. “It’s three o’clock in the morning.”

She eyed Rick. In a second his gaze sharpened, and he nodded. “Who is it, Samantha?” he asked, throwing in a yawn for good measure.

“It’s a wrong number,” she returned. “I’ll call you back in five,” she whispered, and hung up.

“Laurie, I presume?” he said, flicking on the bed stand light.

“Yes. That was a test, I’m sure, to find out if I would talk in front of you.”

“Because your note also told her I was a stuffed shirt who didn’t know anything about your nefarious activities and would probably report her and her brother to the authorities?”

“Wow. You sound really British at three in the morning.” He also looked really good, with the beginnings of beard stubble and crazy disheveled bed hair. “And no. It’s more about whether I’m willing to take a walk on the dark side. You’re the good side.”

“Luke Skywalker?”

Despite the joking, she knew he was worried. As for her, at the first second the phone rang she’d been wide-awake and ready to go. This was the kind of thing she lived for. “More like young Obi-Wan. I’m Anakin Skywalker, I guess.” She frowned. “No, Han Solo. He’s cooler, and he turned out to be a hero.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this right now,” he muttered. “Do you think she bought the delay as assurance that you can be trusted?”

“We’ll see.” She checked the clock. “Two more minutes. And remember, you’re not in earshot, no matter what I might say.”

“I know how to play the game, my dear.”

Of course he did
. “Sorry. I just don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t. Just keep in mind that I don’t want
you
messed up.”

She gazed at him for a long moment, alert, highly intelligent blue eyes obscured by strands of wild black hair in an actor-handsome face, bare-chested and athlete-muscular, surrounded by deep blue sheets and pillows of fine satin. “So in an ideal world, what would you be doing right now?”

“Exactly what I’m doing, except that you wouldn’t have a phone in your hand.”

Sam grinned. “And what would I have in my hand?” she asked slyly, lowering her gaze to the sheet across his hips.

“My hand,” he returned promptly. “It’s usually about sex, but not always. It
is
, however, always about being with you.”

Before she could reply to that—not that she had any idea what to say—he leaned over and kissed her. His mouth was soft and gentle, a warm caress, a reassurance of support and…love.

He’d said before that he loved her, and she’d been able to see in his eyes and his expression that he was serious, but this was different. She felt this, and that made it inescapably real. And the oddest thing of all was that it didn’t frighten her.

“Make your call,” he prompted after a second slow kiss.

She cleared her throat. “Right.”
Get it together, Sam
. With a deep breath she shook out her shoulders and then dialed the number her phone had stored.

“Hello?”

“Okay, what conditions?”

“If I thought Daniel might be in some difficulty, having the police around looking for the thief and the killer wouldn’t be very helpful.”

Sam understood instantly. Clenching her free fingers into a hard fist, she nodded into the phone. “Okay. Barstone stays
in jail—if you make it worth my while. Finding a new fence is a pain in the ass. Is that it?”

Laurie was silent for so long that Samantha began to wonder whether she would take the bait or not. “I need a guarantee that I can trust you,” she finally returned. “My brother’s future is at stake. And mine, too, if you and I go into business together.”

“For me, this is about money. Your brother pulled a job out from under me, so if I turn you in, I don’t get anything.”

“Turning Daniel in would be a risky proposition, anyway,” Laurie said, cynical amusement in her voice. “I wouldn’t recommend limiting the funds of a spoiled rich kid who’s got a five-hundred-dollar-a-day coke habit.”

“Then we should probably include him in this,” Samantha noted, putting a smile into her voice as adrenaline pounded through her system. Daniel
had
shot Charles. “I get twenty percent for fencing the rubies, the paintings, and whatever else you two can lift from the house without making the insurance company suspicious. And that’s not negotiable.”

“All right. But I’ve already been tailed once. If you screw with me, you’re not going to live long enough to regret it.”

So
she’d
rented the black BMW. “Ooh, you scared me. Are we doing business, or not?”

“Do you expect me to drop off a bucket of jewelry at Solano Dorado? Or maybe I could send it to you FedEx. I’m sure the police won’t notice a thing.”

Laurie had a definite cynical streak. “Are you going to that stupid polo match Monday?” Sam asked, glancing at Rick and mouthing
What time does it start
?

He held up two fingers.

“Of course. Daniel’s on one of the teams, and everyone who’s anyone attends.”

“Good. Bring a picnic basket with some fruit and shit in
it. Core the apples. I like apples. I’ll meet you under the refreshment canopy at two-thirty.”

“I’ll be there. And don’t screw me over, Jellicoe.”

“Hey, I was wondering how I was going to keep myself entertained while Rick’s off playing sticks and ponies.”

She hung up. Her hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush.

Rick took the phone from her and set it on his nightstand. “The apple thing was very clever. That’s thinking on your feet.”

“Thanks. I just hope it works.”

He slid his arms around her waist, tugging her back against his side. “So do I. Especially if I have to be out on the field playing ‘sticks and ponies’ while you’re accepting stolen property connected with a murder.”

“Only for pretend,” she said, hoping that was the truth. She was going to have to let Castillo in on it, or she
would
be breaking the law.

And he was right about the “connected with” bit. The stolen goods didn’t equal murder. Finding the gun would, but that meant a whole other set of problems. It was a damned good thing she liked trouble.

“Rick, you don’t need to go with me,” Samantha said, leaning her elbows on the kitchen island while Hans loaded sodas into a picnic basket. “I’m a big girl.”

“I know that,” Rick returned, finishing a quick perusal of the Sunday paper. “Two of us together make a better cover.”

She studied his expression. Calm, a little amused, and beneath all that a stubborn determination to somehow make things right. Well, if he wanted to go along with her, so be it. She could probably use the backup. “Fine,” she conceded. “But I’m the boss.”

He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I’m merely going on a picnic.”

“Right. Me, too.”

Hans closed the wicker lid and handed the basket off to Rick. It seemed nuts, even pretending to go for a picnic lunch while Stoney sat in jail, and while Laurie and Daniel were taking the time to plan who knew what for the polo match tomorrow. But she didn’t have to be a cop to know they needed the damn gun to make the case, and Daniel wasn’t likely to hand it over any way but bullet first.

Rick picked the old banana-yellow SLK because it was a convertible. Putting the picnic basket prominently in the space behind her seat, they tooled along toward South Lake Trail. They passed a dozen locals bicycling, and one of them nearly crashed into the high sea grass as he tried to wave at them.

Samantha checked her watch. “Okay, enough of your fans have seen you to give us an alibi. Let’s head to Coronado House.”

“How certain are you that Laurie and Daniel aren’t home?”

“I talked to Aubrey. They always attend Sunday church service.”

He glanced at her as he turned the car onto Barton Avenue. “This hasn’t exactly been an ordinary week for them.”

“I know. But I bet they figure they need all the forgiveness they can get from the man upstairs.”

“I can’t help thinking this is a very bad idea.” His lips twitched at her snort. “You really want this badly, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Because it’s a rush, or because you want to find the gun and prove a murder?”

“Can’t it be both?”

With a deep breath he flipped on the left-hand turn signal. “You worry me, Samantha.”

She couldn’t help grinning. “I know. Seriously. I know. After this I’ll only break into
your
houses.”
And maybe the occasional one to return things Patricia stole, and shit like that
.

“Wait,” Samantha’s soft voice came from inside the high stone walls bordering the Coronado House grounds. “Wait…okay, now.”

Richard hit the wall halfway up, dug in the toes of his shoes, and grabbed the short iron spikes topping the thing. With another push he went over the top, landing with a fair amount of dignity on his bum inside.

Samantha grabbed his arm and yanked him into a cluster of ferns. “Your first try,” she said, amusement crinkling her voice. “I’m impressed.”

“Ouch,” he whispered, refusing to rub his haunch.

She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. “I’m serious,” she said, crouching low beside him. “That wasn’t an easy climb.”

“Did you fall on
your
arse?”

“No, but I’ve jumped way more walls than you have. You didn’t break anything, and you didn’t get caught. It counts.”

“Fine.” It didn’t help his ego much, but as he glanced back at the ten-foot wall topped with three-foot spikes, Richard decided he had nothing to be ashamed of. Christ.

“Okay. See the light box there?” she asked, gesturing with one gloved hand. “I’ll go first, and then I’ll signal you when to follow. When you get there, get behind it and look back at the wall. Wait until the camera starts to swing away from you, then run straight for the chimney. And I mean run.”

Richard took in the fifty-foot expanse of grass and low
flowers between the lighting box and the house. As a homeowner, he would have thought it far too wide for anyone to cross undetected. Looking at it from Samantha’s point of view, he could see that it was the shortest open space in the garden, the way no window above had a straight-on view, the camera to the north with an overgrown juniper between it and the clearing. “Ready when you are,” he murmured.

Flashing him a smile, Samantha returned her attention to the cameras. “You totally dig this, don’t you?” she breathed.

She took off before he could answer. Moving low to the ground, she worked her way around the flower beds to the lighting box. It didn’t provide much cover, but since the camera only saw in two dimensions, whoever was monitoring the screens would have to be paying extremely close attention to see her crouched there. Of course, he was a foot taller than she was, but he wasn’t going to sit this one out.

Much as he’d hate to admit it, he did “dig” this. It was arousing. And addictive. No wonder she was having such a hard time giving it up.

With a barely perceptible push, Sam stood upright and ran for the house. She hadn’t been kidding about the importance of speed. Richard didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he let it out, relieved, when she reached the small hollow beside the chimney.