To Have and to Heist(94)

Jack took the box and ran his fingers over the blue velvet interior. He pried up the plastic mount and felt inside. “Let’s check the safe. Maybe it fell out.”

We emptied the safe. Aside from the cash, some papers, and the envelope Jack had found, there was no sign of the necklace.

I racked my brain, trying to come up with an explanation. I wasn’t giving up. Not this time. “Could he have given it to his wife to wear for the wedding? Or maybe he’s planning to give it to Bella as a wedding gift because he feels bad about forcing her to marry a jerk.”

“People don’t wear jewelry that valuable and with that kind of history for a backyard wedding,” Jack said. “Pieces like that are displayed in museums and private collections. Occasionally a big star will ask to wear one to the Met Gala or the Academy Awards and then the insurance company will only release it subject to strict rules and top-level security including a detail of bodyguards that must accompany the star everywhere. When that kind of piece is sold, it’s done through an auction house or a broker who handles private sales.”

“Do you think he sold it? He is a fence, after all. Isn’t that what was supposed to happen? Maybe we were just too late. Or could Mr. X have beaten us to it?”

“It hasn’t hit the black market, and I’d know if it was on the move,” Jack said. “The two guys who broke into your place aren’t known for keeping their mouths shut.”

I messaged Anil to let him know he could stand down from his post outside the window. I was about to put my phone away when I got a message from Chloe.

“Jack . . .” My heart raced, almost exploding. “Chloe says Mrs. Angelini is on her way to the office. She overheard Mr. Angelini asking her to get something from his desk. Rose couldn’t stop her, not even with a tray of eclairs.”

Jack had spread all the papers from the envelope across the desk. He pulled out his phone and took a picture. “I just need one minute.”

“We don’t have one minute.” A wave of dizziness caught me, making my legs and knees weak. “She’s coming right now.”

“Climb out the window. I’ll be right behind you.”

I ran to the window. A group of people had gathered outside, drinking and talking like they didn’t realize there were two people twenty feet away who needed to escape before they were caught by a Mafia boss’s wife.

I heard voices in the hallway, the rattle of a handle, the scratch of a key.

“Jack . . .” My pulse roared in my ears. “We can’t get out. We’ll be seen.”

Jack closed the safe and pushed the secret bookcase back in place. “We need a distraction. Find something heavy to throw.”

“You want me to throw something heavy at them? What if I hit someone?”

“Then the plan will be a success. They’ll be distracted.”

“Sophia,” a male voice said loudly. “How nice to see you again.”

“Cristian, I thought that was you on the patio.” Mrs. Angelini’s voice was crystal clear through the door.

“It’s Cristian,” I whispered, incredulous. “He’s come to save us.”

“I was invited by one of the bridesmaids as her plus-one,” he said, his voice dropping, husky and low.

“Which one?”

Silence.

“He still can’t remember which bridesmaid he’s with,” I muttered. “He probably doesn’t know any of their names.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Sophia. You know how special you are to me. You’re the only woman who can . . .” Cristian’s voice dropped to a low murmur. Unable to resist, I leaned toward the door. What could only Mrs. Angelini do?

“Simi.” Jack grabbed my arm. “Stop eavesdropping when we’re trying to escape.”

Mrs. Angelini responded to Cristian’s whispers with a flirtatious laugh. “You naughty boy. I think we should talk about it some more in my husband’s office. I just came to get his cigars.”

“Cigar smoke triggers my asthma,” he said, mimicking Anil’s words. “Is there somewhere else we can go? Somewhere we can be alone?”

I texted frantic messages to the team, asking them to get the crowd away from the window.

“He has cameras all over the lower floor,” Mrs. Angelini said. “And we can’t be seen going upstairs. This is the only room where we can talk privately. If he checks the cameras, I can always tell him I wanted to show you his art.”

I heard the key in the lock, the thunk of a deadbolt sliding back. We dove under the desk, huddled together, knees and foreheads touching.

“Oh, here we are,” Cristian said loudly, his tone so forced, I was amazed Mrs. Angelini wasn’t suspicious. “In the office. Together.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’re perfectly alone.”

The door clicked shut, bolt sliding into place. I jammed my hands into my armpits, my breath bursting in and out.

“I can book you in for a coaching session next week,” Cristian said.

I could see his feet as he walked around the room. He was looking for us. When he came to the desk, I tapped his shoe. He lifted his toe in acknowledgment.

“We can talk about your goals for the future—”

“Silly boy.” Mrs. Angelini laughed. “You know that’s not the kind of coaching I want.”