“WE REALLY SHOULD go back down.” Tia bit her lip as Rebecca topped off all three glasses. Again.
“They don’t need us at the moment.” Rebecca bit into a pretzel, studied it consideringly. “Let them huddle over their blueprints and diagrams for a bit. I can take a look at them later. Those deal with technicalities and are easily refined.”
“That’s if you know one end of a blueprint from another.” Tia sipped. “I don’t.”
“You won’t have to. It’ll be put into words for you, and those you understand very well. Malachi thinks you’re brilliant.”
“Oh well, he’s . . .”
“Toast,” Cleo said and scooped up dip with a ridged potato chip. “Guy’s nuts about you, but he’s not a moron. You are brilliant. I never got along with brains before. Your kind of brains,” she explained. “The academic sort. I spent most of my school time figuring out what kind of trouble I could get into next, and disliking girls just like the two of you.” She grinned as she popped another chip in her mouth. “Funny how things work out.”
“Gideon wouldn’t be wasting time with you if you didn’t have a brain. He’d have gone for the package,” Rebecca added. “But once he’d unwrapped it, he’d have lost interest quickly enough if all you had to offer were nice breasts and long legs.”
“Gee thanks, Sis.”
“Well, after all, he saw you unwrapped—so to speak—straight off, didn’t he? And while we’re on that subject, what’s it like?”
Cleo only picked up her wineglass, sipped.
“Oh, be a sport,” Rebecca complained. “It’s a natural curiosity, isn’t it? Tia, aren’t you wondering what it’s like to strip down bare-assed in front of a roomful of men?”
“I never thought about . . .” She trailed off, pinned by a smirking look from Rebecca. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But I don’t mean to offend you, Cleo.”
“You don’t. She’s a lot nicer than you are,” Cleo said to Rebecca.
“She is that. But I wasn’t after offending you either. Don’t you think that at some point in her life, a woman fantasizes about being built and beautiful and tormenting a lot of men by sliding out of her clothes in public? Knowing they want her but can’t have her. It’s powerful.”
“It can be. It can be powerful, or demeaning and exploitive. It can be fun, or it can be humiliating. Depends on how you look at it.”
“How did you look at it?” Tia asked.
“As a paycheck. Bottom line.” Cleo shrugged and dug into the chips again. “Modesty’s not a big issue for me. Most of the men, they don’t see you anyway. They just see tits and ass. For me, it paid the rent and gave me a chance to choreograph and dance. I had some pretty sharp numbers.”
“I’d love to see sometime. Not the stripping part,” Tia said, going beet red when Cleo laughed. “The dancing.”
“See, she’s really nice. You know what I think? That stuff you said before, about all of us being meant to come together. That rings for me. The three of us would never be sitting here like this otherwise. That’s cool. Now I’ve got a question for you,” she said to Rebecca. “You banging Jack yet, or what?”
“Cleo.”
“Oh, like you don’t wonder,” she tossed back, dismissing Tia’s appalled whisper.
“Not yet.” Rebecca lifted her glass. “But I’m thinking about it. And now that we’ve brought up sex, I’d like to continue that area as pertains to Anita Gaye. The boys downstairs, they can play with the toys, study the maps and make manly noises over the technology of the thing. But they don’t understand what she is, inside. It takes a woman for that. It takes a woman to really see that sort of female ruthlessness. No matter what they say, a man’s always going to imagine a woman’s just a bit weaker, softer, easier than he is. We’re not. She’s not.”
“She’s cold,” Tia said quietly. “All the way through, I think. It makes her more dangerous because she doesn’t care—not on any level—about anyone but herself. She wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone to get what she wants. She probably thinks she deserves it. I’m getting analytical again,” she apologized. “All those years in therapy, and suddenly I’m a psychologist.”
“I think you make sterling sense,” Rebecca agreed. “And I haven’t met the woman as yet. I’m getting a clearer picture of her from you than I did from Malachi. His description was colored with his own embarrassment, I think, and his anger. Once she knows we’ve outwitted her—as, by God, we will—what do you think she’ll do?”
“She’ll try to take it out on at least one of us. Your family,” Tia said. “Because it started with Malachi.”
“Cleo? You agree with that?”
“Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “Yeah, I do.”
“As do I. So, we have to make certain she can’t reach us. Whatever happens, we have to expose her for what she is. And take away her power.”
“I’ve sort of started working on that.” Tia rose, walked into the kitchen to finally start the coffee. “Money gives her power, and if you look at her marriage, you have to conclude money is vital to her. I thought it might be helpful to find out how much she has. Then we’d have an idea how much we need to . . . what’s the word?” She stopped with the coffee scoop in one hand. “Hose her for. Is that right?” she asked Cleo.
“Isn’t she great? Amateur, my ass. Tia honey, I think you could make a living out of this.”
Downstairs Gideon jiggled the loose change in his pocket. “They’re taking a lot of time putting together coffee and tea.”
Jack glanced at his computer clock, shrugged. “They went up there to huddle. But . . .” He turned to his monitors, danced his fingers over a keyboard and engaged the apartment cameras.
When the women appeared on-screen, Malachi let out a low whistle. “You’ve spy cameras in your own flat? Does the word
paranoia
have any personal meaning for you?”
“I prefer to think of it as thorough.”
“They’ve crisps up there,” Gideon pointed out. “Should’ve known Cleo would nose out crisps. Almost looks like a party. Christ, they make a pretty picture, don’t they?”
“Classy blonde, gorgeous redhead, sexy brunette.” Jack scanned the screen. “Covers all the bases. Take a good look because we’re going to have to decide how far into this we’re going to take them.”
“I don’t see as we have much choice,” Gideon commented.
“There’s always a choice.”
“You’re meaning we can hold things back from them.” Malachi had leaned closer to the screen and now straightened. “Keep certain parts of the plan from them, tucking them up, as it were, to protect them from Anita.”
“She’s responsible for two deaths so far. She’s got no reason to quibble about a third.”
“It won’t do, Jack.” Malachi watched Tia pour milk into a small pitcher. “They’d figure it out in any case. Rebecca would, I can guarantee that.”
“Too right,” Gideon agreed.
“Moreover, I started this thing lying to Tia. I don’t want to lie to her again. They deserve the full truth of the matter. We’ll just have to find a way to protect them despite it.”
“I could keep them in that apartment for a week. Locked in, cut off. A week’s about all we need if we move fast and move right. They’d be pissed off when they got out, but they’d be safe.”
“Are you serious about my sister?”
Jack shifted his gaze from the screen, from Rebecca, and looked at Malachi. “Down to the ground serious.”
“Then take my advice and put thoughts like that out of your head. She’d peel the skin off your face for it, and when she was done . . . Gideon?”
“She’d walk away, erase you from her life the way you do letters on a chalkboard. And as for me, I won’t cut Cleo out. She lost a friend and deserves taking part in avenging him.”
“If we make a mistake, even one mistake, someone could get hurt.” Jack tapped a finger on the screen. “It might be one of them.”
“Then we won’t make a mistake,” Malachi said. “They’re coming back down. I’d turn off those monitors if I were you, unless you want your coffee poured down your crotch.”
“Good point.” He blanked the screen, then swiveled in his chair. “So, it’s the Musketeers’ thing?”
“All for one,” Malachi began.
“And one for all,” Gideon finished.
Jack nodded, then disengaged the locks so the women could get in. As he did, the phone rang. He glanced at the light blinking on his multiline unit. “Upstairs, office line.”
Behind him, Tia nearly bobbled the coffee when she walked in to the sound of Anita’s voice.
“Jack, Anita Gaye. I expected to hear from you by now.” The answering machine picked up the irritation in her voice. “It’s urgent. This Toliver woman is harassing me, and I want it to stop. I’m counting on you, Jack.” There was a pause, then the tone of her voice changed, became soft, shaky. “You’re the only one I can count on. I feel very alone, very . . . vulnerable. Please, call me as soon as you can. I’d feel so much better if I knew you were looking out for me.”
“And the Oscar goes to . . .” Cleo dropped into a chair. “What a load of bullshit. Oh, Jack.” She hitched up her voice, fluttered her lashes. “I feel very alone, very vulnerable.” She stretched out, gave Jack a considering look. “Did you ever do her?”
“Cleo! You can’t—”
“No.” Rebecca waved off Tia’s flustered protest. “I’d be interested in the answer to that.”
Both Malachi and Gideon became extremely busy with the coffeepot. So much, Jack thought sourly, for all for one.
“Thought about it. For about five seconds. Kept getting this image of one of the vegetable slicers. You know.” He made quick, chopping motions with his hand. “And her running my dick through it. Not real appealing,” he added as both other men winced.
“Why do you work for her?”
“First, I don’t work for her. Her husband hired my company as security consultants. I liked him. Second, a job’s a job. Do you only take people on your tour boat who you approve of?”
“Fair enough,” Rebecca decided, and offered him the bowl of chips as a peace offering.
“Are you going to call her back?” Tia asked him.
“Eventually. We’ll let her stew and steam awhile. I figure my pal Bob will pay her a visit tomorrow. That’ll give her more to stew and steam about. She won’t like being questioned by the police. Then tomorrow night we’ll give her the first real kick in the teeth with the break-in at Morningside.”
“Tomorrow?” Tia sat down heavily. “So soon? How can we be ready?”
“We’ll be ready,” Jack assured her. “Since we’re going to fail—or at least, it’ll look like we did on first glance. You’re going to take the first step tomorrow morning.”
“I am?”
Tia listened, stupefied, as her assignment was explained to her.
“Why Tia?” Rebecca demanded. “Of the six of us, I’m the only one Anita or one of her monkeys hasn’t seen.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” Jack corrected. “It’s very likely she’s seen photos of you. Besides, we need you here. Next to me, you’re the best tech.”
“Tia knows how to think on her feet,” Malachi added, and had the woman in question gaping at him.
“I do?”
“And best,” he said, taking her hand, “she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. She’s a way of making herself invisible and seeing what’s around her. Remembering what’s around her. And if she’s seen and recognized, no one will think too much of it.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m the one who suggested you for this part,” Malachi told her. “I know you can do it. But you have to agree. If you don’t want to take it on, we’ll find another way.”
“You think I can do this?”
“Darling, I know you can. But you have to know it as well.”
It was the strangest thing, Tia realized. For the first time in her life she was the object of someone’s complete confidence. It wasn’t scary at all. It was lovely.
“Yes. Yes, I can do it.”
“Okay.” Jack rose. “Let’s go over the steps.”
IT WAS AFTER midnight when Jack and Rebecca stepped into his apartment again. He knew she wasn’t completely satisfied by the developing plan. He’d have been disappointed in her if she had been.
“Why do you and Cleo get to be cat burglars?”
He knew that was one of the sticking points for her and was pleased to detect the faintest hint of what he liked to think was jealousy in her voice. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on his part.
“First, to make it look like a genuine attempt at a break-in, I need more than two hands. Want a drink?”
“No, I don’t. Why Cleo’s hands and not Mal’s or Gideon’s?”
“They’ll be patrolling the area, watching out for cops or bystanders and so on. Sure you don’t want a brandy?” he asked as he poured himself a snifter.
“Yes. That doesn’t explain—”
“Not finished yet.” He swirled, sipped, watched with deep affection as her eyes heated at his interruption. “Despite great strides in equality, a woman wandering the streets of New York in the middle of the night is more likely to get hassled than a guy. So, your brothers take the street watch, you run tech in the van with Tia, and Cleo and I do the job.”
It was too sensible to argue with, so she picked another angle. “Tia’s nervous about the morning.”
“Tia’s nervous about her shoe size. It’s part of her makeup. She’ll be fine. When push comes to shove, she comes through. Besides, she’ll make it work because Mal believes she’ll make it work, and she’s in love with him.”
“Do you think she is?” Something softened inside her. “In love with him.”
“Yeah. It’s going around.”
She kept her eyes on his as she stepped forward, took the snifter from him for one short sip. “Well then, we’ve a busy day ahead of us. I’m going to bed.”
“Good idea.” He set the brandy down, took her arms and backed her slowly against the wall.
“Alone.”
“Okay.” He kept his eyes open and on hers as he lowered his mouth to hers, as he took the kiss from a teasing brush of lips into quiet urgency.
When her eyes began to blur, when her hands gripped his hips, he shot them both into turbulent heat. He felt the tremor run through her, through himself, heard the strangled moan that caught in her throat.