Crack.
Again, the shot went wide, and again, the brothers hardly noticed.
“What about it, Simon?” Hale asked, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, and yet Kat was certain that his gaze never trailed from where Nick sat on the other side of the table.
“Yeah, well, the new phones are really more like little computers and…”
“Simon. Buddy,” Hale prompted.
“We didn’t just bug his phone. This morning, LaFont synced his phone to his computer.”
“So we…” Kat prompted.
“We have everything.” Simon turned the screen around. “‘Today, three o’clock, photo op at the Prince’s Palace,’” he read. “‘Four forty-five, interview with Maggie and the Associated Press. Seven p.m., polishing with the royal jeweler.…Tomorrow, nine a.m., VIP brunch with’ what…three CEOs, the Russian ambassador, a delegation from Egypt. Ooh, Princess Ann of Astovia—I hear her plastic surgery was very effective.”
Nick gave a low whistle, then settled back in his chair. “This is a very busy emerald.”
“Looks like it all culminates Thursday night with a big ball or gala or whatever,” Simon said, and Gabrielle looked offended that galas and balls could ever be whatever ed away. “The emerald is going to be there so all the potential bidders can see it up close. Then Friday morning, they auction it off.”
“You’ve got locations?” Kat asked Simon.
“Oh, yeah. We’ve got everything.”
“Security?”
“If LaFont knows it, we know it.”
It felt as if maybe the curse had lifted, the tide had shifted, but then the breeze picked up and a skeet took a very unfortunate turn. Seconds later, Angus was pulling his shot far to the right, shooting a large hole in the second-story galley not ten feet above Marcus’s head.
“Give me that!” Gabrielle bolted to her feet and jerked the shotgun from Angus’s hands.
“Excellent plan,” Nick said with a smile at Gabrielle.
“By the way, Nick,” Hale said, “I’m sure someone can take you to shore now. Thanks for stopping by and—”
“Hale,” Kat said, cutting him off. “We need him.”
“To do what, exactly?” Gabrielle wanted to know.
“Maggie,” Kat said softly. “Someone’s got to keep an eye on Maggie.” She stood and walked tenderly to the rail. The coastline didn’t seem so distant, but the details were still clouded in a fog. So she stared out at the water and tried to focus on the few things she truly knew. “We need to know where she goes, whom she talks to. If she buys anything, I want to hear about it. If she makes any calls, I want to know to whom and for how long.”
“Okay, okay. I got it.” Nick plopped a grape into his mouth and turned for the door, but Hale was already up and blocking his way.
“I don’t think you do.”
“She’s not just some old woman,” Kat said, taking her place at Hale’s side. “She’s not a mark or a chump. She’s been on the grift longer than any of us have been alive.”
Nick laughed a little. “I seem to remember another lifelong con I managed to successfully tail one day in Paris.”
“I mean it, Nick. She’s good.”
“So were you.”
“I’m serious,” Kat warned.
Nick wasn’t smiling when he finished, “So am I.” Then he stepped around Hale and went inside, leaving the crew to watch him go.
The Bagshaws had stopped shooting. Simon wasn’t fiddling with any wires or keys. Even Gabrielle sat perfectly still, back straight, when she asked, “What are we going to do?”