“We wouldn’t have come if there was anything in this world you couldn’t make,” Gabrielle said, not flirting; not lying. It was in no way a con when she told him, “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t need the best.”
“I am the best.” It was the sure and steady voice of someone who knows that it’s true. And yet, Kat couldn’t help but notice that he rocked slightly at the waist. The artist’s hands trembled. “I’m retired,” he said, looking away. “And your uncle doesn’t want you here.”
“You’re our uncle too,” Gabrielle protested just as Kat eased onto the stool and caught her uncle’s eyes.
“Someone is using one of the Pseudonimas, Uncle Charlie,” she said, and watched him turn as pale as the snow. “Have you heard that?”
“It’s not me,” he snapped.
“I know.” Kat reached for his hand, but he flinched and pulled away. “I know,” she said again, softer this time. “But I need your help, you see.”
“We,” Hale inserted.
“We need to do a job for Visily Romani.” Kat took a deep breath. “We need the Cleopatra Emerald.”
And in a flash they were there—the steely resolve and power of will that Kat had seen so often on the face of Uncle Eddie. “No!” the man snapped, rising from the chair and pushing across the room with so much force Kat almost lost her balance.
She struggled to her feet, but the man didn’t stop, didn’t turn as Kat went on.
“The Kelly Corporation is moving the emerald to its corporate headquarters in New York two days from now, and we have to steal it, Uncle Charlie. Visily Romani needs us to steal it.”
“No one has to steal the Cleopatra Emerald. Eddie knows that. We know that. We know…We learned that lesson the hard way.” He turned to Gabrielle. “You should go.”
“Charlie, please.” Despite her smaller than average size, Kat crossed the room in three long strides.
“I can’t make that in…It can’t be…I’d need…”
“I’ll get you whatever you need,” Hale said.
“It cannot be done!” The old man yelled so loudly that Kat half feared an avalanche. “I can’t make that. I can’t make it. I can’t…”
“We don’t need you to make us a fake Cleopatra Emerald, Uncle Charlie.” Kat’s voice was low and kind and even. When she touched his arm, he didn’t pull away. “We just need you to give us the one you’ve already got.”
CHAPTER 10
Somewhere between the airport and the brownstone, the others must have fallen asleep. Kat watched Gabrielle curl into a tiny ball like a kitten while Hale splayed across the limo’s backseat, long legs and arms, and a head that, on occasion, would drift onto Kat’s shoulder in a way she couldn’t bring herself to mind.
Kat knew that she should be resting, but her eyes stayed open, watching the darkness fade. Thinking. Planning. Worrying about all the ways it could end badly. The switch could get blown or the gear could jam. The roof access might be compromised and the blueprints could be out of date. There were always a million ways a job could go wrong, but only one way for it to go right.
There were always too many chances.
When the car stopped, the street was quiet in that space that wasn’t quite night and wasn’t quite morning, and the girl who wasn’t quite a thief thought for a minute about staying there, telling Marcus to cut the engine and let everyone just sleep. But then Hale shifted beside her.
“We home?” Kat felt his breath against her neck, warm and soft. It was as if, half awake, he’d forgotten to be angry about Moscow and Rio and all the others. She missed the boy who was curled against her. “Did you sleep?”
“Sure.”
“Liar,” Gabrielle said, straightening and stretching. “You’re thinking about the roof, aren’t you?”
“Among other things,” Kat had to admit.
“The switch?” Hale asked.
“The cameras?” Gabrielle guessed, but Kat sat perfectly still, unsure whether she was hearing the spinning of the wheels in her head or the idling car. It seemed to take all the strength she could summon to reach for the door and step out into the dusky light.
“The timing.” She felt the green stone in her pocket, smooth and fragile. “The timing…is everything.”
Turning from the car, Kat expected to see the empty street and the vacant brownstone, to find peace and quiet and anything but the sound of a gruff voice saying, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”