Reluctant Runaway (3 page)

He grinned at his superior. “Count me in.”

“I already did.” The man held out his hand. “Welcome aboard.” They shook.

A feminine laugh drew Tony’s eyes. He glanced over to see Desi chatting with the president of the United States. If she was nervous, it didn’t show. Must come from running a business that served kings and billionaires on a daily basis.

Harcourt tipped his head in her direction. “Delightful woman. I enjoyed meeting her. Our nation’s capital is a great place to live and work. Excellent atmosphere for business if she were to consider relocating … ” He paused and smiled. “Down the road, of course.”

Tony’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He watched the man return to the group near the president.

Desi leave Boston? Why would she …?

Oh! Heat crept up his neck. No promises, but a dangled carrot. Washington
would
be his dream post, but no, he didn’t want to move away from Desi. If it came to a choice, though, would she leave her home for him?

Tony’s hands fumbled for pockets but didn’t find any. Blasted robes. How did those Bible guys wear these things? He readjusted his braided cloth belt and joined the others.

Desi touched his arm when he came up beside her. Her eyes shone too bright. Something he wouldn’t like was going on in that head of hers. He hadn’t forgotten Max’s tidbit of information about the antiquities theft in Albuquerque. Irresistible bait for a Jacobs.

“Your family has my sympathies in the disappearance of your niece.” President Curtis narrowed his gaze at Max. “But I do have a rather fussy question. How exactly did you get into the White House this evening?”

The Texan colored. “I suppose it comes from hangin’ around Desi.”

Desi shot her friend a don’t-blame-me-for-this glare.

Max smirked. “Well, it did. What do you always say? Keep it simple and seize the moment. Those watchin’ for the devious will often miss the obvious. You taught me those things, and you got ‘em from your father.”

Desi lifted her hands. “Guilty as charged.”

Tony grinned. He could vouch for
that
confession.

Max’s freckled face turned serious. “I needed to see Desi and Tony. Thought maybe someone would radio inside and have my friends come out. But before I could get to the gate, a group of teenagers charged up the walk. One of them was the granddaughter you’re raisin’, Mr. President. She let me in … sort of.”

The president’s head jerked back. “Avery?”

“She didn’t know she did it, sir.” Max rushed on. “You know how a bunch of teen girls can act like a herd of green broke mustangs? They were laughin’ and jabberin’ and millin’ around until I’m half-dizzy watchin’. The gate opens, and they head for it. Avery grabs my shirtsleeve and pulls me along without givin’ me much of a look-see. She pokes this ID badge at me and says, ‘If they have to stick me with a Secret Service escort
and
a chaper-one for a walk to the convenience store, the least you can do is keep up and not drop your belongings.’ I took the badge and didn’t argue. It was dark, and I trailed on the fringes, huggin’ the shadows away from the security detail. They were watchin’ for threats from the outside anyway. Keepin’ order with the girls was supposed to be my job—er, the chaperone’s job.”

President Curtis shook his head and grimaced. “Sounds like my granddaughter. She was upset that we wouldn’t allow her to attend the masquerade, so we let her have friends over instead.” He cocked a silver brow at Max. “And how did you get into the ballroom? That’s as much of a feat as entering the building.”

“Piece of cake actually.” She grinned; Whitcomb/ Washington frowned. “We came into the White House through the kitchen, and when those girls saw all those goodies for the party, their eyes lit and they scattered like spooked quail, security detail scurryin’ to keep up. Nobody cared a hoot about me. I grabbed a server’s coat off a hook, clipped the badge to it, found a loaded cart, and played caboose at the end of a train headed for the ballroom. Didn’t catch a second glance from anybody. They must not have noticed my slippers.” She waggled a fuzzy foot. “Another Jacobs maxim—if you act like you know what you’re doin’, people will think you do and leave you alone.”

President Curtis snorted a laugh. Desi clapped a hand over her mouth. Director Harcourt chuckled and stared at the floor. The aide went bug-eyed. Tony battled down a guffaw. Desi was a matchless original, but her best friend was the flip side of that rare coin. Look out planet earth!

“1 do feel kinda bad about something.” Max looked down. “That other poofy-haired redhead must be stuck outside the gate, and your granddaughter is minus a chaperone.”

The president turned toward his aide.

Whitcomb/Washington nodded. “Mrs. Webb’s story checks out. Ms. Parkins lost her pass during the impromptu excursion. Her story wasn’t believed when she presented herself at the gate, so no alarm was raised about an imposter chaperone. I’ve vouched for her now, and she’s been reunited with her charges.”

The lines in the president’s face relaxed. “Then I believe this
incident can be put behind us. Please consider yourself invited to stay, Mrs. Webb, and enjoy the hospitality of my home.”

“Call me Max, Mr. President. And I’m honored by the invitation, but—”

“Max and I have a job to finish tonight.”

Tony frowned at Desi’s interruption.

“We need to be on a plane to Albuquerque in the morning. Her sister needs her.” Desi nodded at Max.

His gut did a dive. Sure, Max needed to go to her sister, but why did Desi have to go along? If she thought she was going to interfere in a missing persons investigation, or more likely, throw herself onto the trail of thieves who had already put someone in the hospital—

He tried to catch her eye, but she didn’t spare him a glance.

President Curtis nodded. “Understandable.” He turned to the aide. “Order one of the limousines. Tell the driver to take his passengers wherever they want to go.”

“I’ll escort them to their hotel,” Tony said through a rigid jaw

The dismal truth hit him.

Unless he and Desi worked out a healthy balance between his need to keep her safe and her compulsion to take risks for a cause, it wouldn’t matter where he was assigned. They wouldn’t be together.

 Three

M
ight as well be a hearse, not a limousine. Desi breathed in the scent of fine leather and looked around the darkened vehicle. On the opposite passenger bench, her back to the driver, Max brooded in silence. Tony shared Desi’s seat, but occupied the far end of the bench. She studied his wooden profile.

Something was eating him, but as usual, he was Mr. Sphinx. “You didn’t have to leave the party because Max and I needed to go.”

“That’s not it.” Tony turned toward her, face oddly pale under the passing streetlights. “Max should go take care of her sister, but why you? There’s more to this story.”

“Don’t look at me like I’m a suspect in a crime.”

Max jerked as if startled. “He’s right, Des. You’re up to your neck at the office. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“He’s wrong, and it’s not babysitting to support a friend in a crisis. I’m happy to avoid my paperwork for another couple of days, and Tony’ll be glad for the time to catch up on his own work.”

Tony leaned forward. “I’m right here, ladies. Talk
to
me not about me.”

Desi glared at him. “It so happens you’re right. I do have a secondary reason for going to Albuquerque.” She turned to her friend. “But you’re the priority.”

Max gasped. “Oh dear, I forgot! HJ Securities provides the
protection for the New Mexico Museum. And my niece and nephew are suspects in the robbery. Des, I’m so sorry. This puts the company in a bad spot.”

Desi shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll get there and find out that the Denver branch has everything under control. They’re primaries on this. I’m just the meddling boss coming to breathe down their necks.”

Tony stared at Desi under lowered brows. “I thought HJ Securities was in business to prevent theft, not investigate it.”

She lifted her chin. “When did I mention conducting an investigation?”

His gaze bored into her. “Are you saying you wouldn’t fight Goliath with one hand tied behind your back to protect HJ Securities and help Max? I can’t see you sitting this one out.”

“You’re making assumptions I don’t appreciate, Tony.”

“So tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not going to Albuquerque with sleuthing on your mind.”

“I don’t owe you promises or explanations.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I’m not asking because you owe. I’m asking because I care.”

“But you don’t trust me not to do something foolish. That’s insulting.”

Tony frowned and shook his head. “I know you, Des—”

“And I
don’t
know you. I’m supposed to live in a glass house and tell you my every move, my every thought, but you don’t let me past your outer layer. Sure, I know you’re a Red Sox fan, and you jog every day. Your barber could know that much. But your mother had to tell me you’re in the Big Brother program and mentoring an inner-city teen.”

“Mom mentioned that?”

“Why wouldn’t she? Why didn’t you? Don’t you think I might have enjoyed knowing something so important to your
life?” Her fists knotted. “Or maybe you didn’t feel the need to share because I’m not so important to your life.”

Tony looked at her like he might tell the driver to head for the nearest asylum. “Where did this come from? I thought we were talking about your trip to Albuquerque.”

“Yeah, Des. A little off topic there.”

Desi stared at Max, but her friend wasn’t playing favorites.

Max turned toward Tony. “And what’s up with you not telling her about that kid you mentor?”

Desi forced her hands to unclench. Where
had
that come from? A picture flashed in front of her mind’s eye—Tony leaning forward to hear Director Harcourt speak in his ear, the man’s hand resting on his shoulder. For all she knew, she could lose Tony to a coveted promotion tomorrow. Maybe he held himself back to keep from getting too involved with her so the break wouldn’t be painful.

For him, anyway.

Cold wrapped around her insides. The thought made awful sense.

Someone jabbed her arm, and she looked at Max. “What?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Great. When he starts tellin’ you about the kid, you’re not listenin’.”

Tony barked a laugh.

Desi glared at both of them. “Don’t expect a few dribbles of belated information to thrill me.” She zeroed in on Tony. “My best friend’s niece is missing.”

Max moaned and slumped against the seat.

“And my security business may see repercussions from a theft we didn’t prevent,” Desi continued.

Max put her head in her hands.

Desi patted her friend’s knee, but kept her gaze on Tony. “I’m going to Albuquerque as a bosom buddy and a business professional. If you can’t trust me to conduct myself properly in both capacities, this discussion is over.”

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and then stared at her with that hard, assessing look she’d thought she’d never see again. He shook his head and looked out the window.

Silence fell like a rock through sullen water.

Seated before the computer in the Tate Gallery’s workroom, Desi tapped the screen displaying Max’s fresh set of schematics for cameras and laser detectors. “I can’t beat this.”

Desi had studied the 3-D layout from every angle and come up with zilch for an approach. A thief would have to be Rubber Woman or Elastic Man to navigate without tripping the alarm. And
kablam!
Steel doors would trap the burglar inside the display room with loot worth millions but no way to make off with a Dresden thimble.

Yawning, she glanced at her watch. Five a.m., and her sore toe hadn’t hindered her from stealing an O’Keeffe and the Grandma Moses. Smooth jobs fueled by the steam pouring out her ears. Where did Tony get off presuming she’d head for Albuquerque for any reason except legitimate business and moral support for Max? But at this hour of a sleepless night, the anger edge had begun to wear off. She stifled another yawn behind a gloved hand.

Max yawned instead and crossed her arms. “You have to try anyway That’s the deal.”

“Slave driver.” She took a good look at her friend. Red streaked the whites of her eye, and her lips were pinched and colorless. “Let’s call it good.” Desi rose from the desk chair.
“I shouldn’t have kept you up all night.”

“We always finish a job.” She delivered a flat stare.

Desi knew when to drop a subject. Max was steamed, too—about the mess in her family. The woman meant to get to Albuquerque or bust, and this assignment was an obstacle on the route. One bright spot—better to see her friend angry than defeated and hopeless.

“Let’s get to it then.”

Desi went into the gilded reception area and took her starting position outside the double-wide entrance of the main gallery. The lights went out. She stood in darkness relieved by the dim glow of a nearby
Exit
sign.

“Ready. Go.” Max’s muffled voice floated from the equipment room.

Desi pulled her infrared goggles over her eyes, and the lasers popped into view She spotted a narrow hole in the grid, bent a knee up to her chest, and then straightened it through the opening. Folding herself almost double, she flowed after the limb with her torso and head, followed by her other leg. Her toe complained, but she ignored the griping.

Several moves later, she worked herself to a dead end. Oh well, she could turn around and find an alternate route. Her pulse throbbed in her neck, and she pulled in deep, even breaths. Pivoting on the balls of her feet, she faced the direction she’d come.

Hey, what?

The configuration of the laser beams had changed. No body-sized opening existed. Desi tried toward the left. Same result. To the right. Again, no way.

“Max, you’re a genius! You’ve got the lasers rigged to change configuration on a timer.”

Her friend’s chuckle came from outside the doorway behind
her. “Yep, the program is run by a client-unique algorithm the NSA would have fun decrypting. Even power failure can’t shut it down. There’s battery backup.”

“Congra—” Desi turned.

Wa-a-a-ah! Wa-a-a-ah! Wa-a-a-ah!

She charged for the exit, adrenaline spiked to the moon. Before she covered half the distance, the metal doors snicked shut. She halted, breath spurting between her lips. Max had won this round, and Desi should be delighted. So why did frustration gnaw her insides?

Because she hated to lose, that’s why. No wonder few professional art thieves retired. The game was addicting. They loved to play, they played to win, and they even loved the art they stole. One day, a pro would find the Tate Gallery an irresistible challenge and lose their freedom. Desi would hear and rejoice, even as she felt a pang of sympathy in her secret heart.

The lights burst on. “Hey!” Desi squeezed her eyes shut. A heavy tread entered the room, and she peeped through half-open lids. “Tony!” Her eyes popped wide. “No way, buster. I’m mad enough at you as it is. Don’t you dare!” She backed away. “I’m going to Albuquerque with Max, and you can’t stop me.”

Tony came on, jaw set in stone. He caught her right wrist and snapped a handcuff onto it. Desi winced. The metal sent a chill through tender flesh. The cuffs snapped again. She gaped at the sight of Tony’s left wrist connected to hers by a short length of chain. He folded their shackled hands together. The warmth of his clasp chased away the cold.

“I can’t let you leave with those words in the limo between us.”

“What words?
You
never say any—”

He caressed her knuckles with his lips.

Shockwaves coursed down her spine. The low-down, sneaky—and very clever—rat! “If you think you’re going to get
to me with this backward romancing, you’re … ” Her protest fizzled into a splutter as he tugged her forward, and her stupid feet cooperated.

“Let’s take another drive. This time without so much ice between us that Jet Li couldn’t bust through with a flying heel kick.”

“Jet Li?” It was as if her brains had sprung a leak en route to the elevator. Elevator? They were in the elevator already? This man was sooo bad for her good sense.

“Not familiar with Jet Li?” He grinned down at her while the car descended. “Chuck Norris then. Is that better?”

Desi didn’t answer. Thoughts spun. Last night—a few hours ago, really—came back to her in detail. Was she fooling herself that there was any hope for them?

He squeezed her hand. Maybe. A girl’s got to hang on to hope.

Stepping out of the Tate Gallery into the cool dawn of a new day, Desi breathed in early commuter smells. She sneaked a peak under her lashes at her crafty captor. Better to be cuffed to the annoying man than sitting with a wall of silence between them.

A pair of cabs idled at the curb. Tony took her to the one in the lead. He motioned toward the other one. “For Max, as soon as she closes up shop here.”

Desi looked away She couldn’t let him see evidence of thaw. If the guy wasn’t so thoughtful, it would be a lot easier to stay mad. But if he never trusted her with his inner self or had faith in her ability to make good judgment calls …

Tony helped her into the vehicle—an awkward maneuver with their arms linked. The driver pulled out without comment. No doubt a cabbie in DC saw lots of strange things.

“Given these—” Desi held up their jail jewelry—”I’m surprised
you didn’t stuff me into the back of a Bucar or patrol special.”

Tony lifted her arm and unbuckled her wrist and then did the same with his own. “I wouldn’t put a stray dog in the backseat of any vehicle that hauls suspects. You have no idea what lowlifes do in those after they’re arrested.” He tucked the cuffs into his jacket pocket.

Desi glimpsed his shoulder-holstered gun. “Don’t talk to me about staying out of danger when you strap on one of those at the same time as you stuff your wallet into your pocket.”

“I’m trained for what I do.”

“So am I.”

They locked stares.

“Are you trained to walk across steel girders ten stories in the air?” Quiet intensity gave Tony’s question the force of a shout. “I saw your planning notes in the Gallery workroom. I doubt aerial gymnastics is in the HJ Securities job description—even for the boss.”

“Is that what’s got your tie on too tight?” Nuts! She knew he’d ferret out her activities of the night before, but he must not have checked out the roof and noticed the broken ledge. She’d have gotten more than this mild rebuke.

Tony shook his head. “No, but it’s an example of the wild risks you take.”

Desi frowned. “Supervisory Special Agent Anthony Lucano, your background investigation on me missed a juicy tidbit.”

“Oh, boy, I’m in trouble. Women never use your full name unless you’re about to get your ear twisted. My mother taught me that much. Ouch!” He rubbed the side of his head.

Not going to charm her that easily “As a junior in college, I was offered a tryout for the U.S. Olympic team in floor exercise, uneven bars, and—guess what?—balance beam. I never tried out—too focused on finishing school and heading home to help with the business. Gym time is a firm date with me three times
a week—minimum. I haven’t fallen off a beam on a straight walk-across in … well … forever.” She shrugged. “Besides, Max made me wear a bungee cord. I’ll bet you didn’t know that, now did you? It wasn’t in the notes.”