Changing the Rules (Richter #1) - Catherine Bybee Page 0,1
about chatter on the line?”
Claire rolled her eyes and shook her head, but kept her mouth shut.
The announcement for the silent auction tables closing was broadcast over the PA, which gave her a job to do.
Pushing off the wall, she patted Lars on the back. “That’s my cue.”
Back outside the trailer, she pulled down on the hem of the cocktail dress she still hadn’t completely gotten used to wearing. Blend in, she’d been told. The place had security everywhere. The men wore three-piece suits and looked like they were personal bodyguards. And in reality, there were a few of those there as well. But Jax, Sasha, and Claire wore dresses. Granted, there was an awful lot of spandex in the dresses they wore, on the off chance they needed to interact with anyone up to no good. But they were still dresses.
When the auction table came into view, those at the event who were bent on winning something hovered over the items and waited for the countdown so they could write their names in the final and winning spot. Which meant the table was packed with people.
Claire noticed the back of Jax’s head at the far end.
“Everything good down there?” she said into her mic.
Jax didn’t respond.
Claire tapped on the microphone that looked like one of the many beads on her dress. “Yoda?” She used Jax’s nickname.
When she didn’t respond a second time, Claire tapped on the microphone again. “Lars, is there an issue with the mics?”
Her earpiece crackled, almost like it was underwater.
“Great.” The state-of-the-art, high-end toys were shockingly reliable in difficult situations like jumping between rooftops and surviving hand-to-hand combat, but apparently walking around a lawn party was when they failed. “If anyone can hear me, my audio took a hike. I can’t hear any of you.”
Silence met her.
Instead of returning to the trailer, Claire waded through the crowd and did her job.
She was in charge of the east end of the table, and Jax was on the west.
The announcer started the final countdown, and a buzz went up among the hovering guests.
Claire smiled at people as they stepped in front of her, but then looked around them to lay eyes on one of three extremely pricey items up for auction. Items that were small enough for someone to walk away with.
A man stood in front of the pair of diamond earrings. The woman with him smiled as he wrote his name slowly.
Next was a sapphire-and-diamond tennis bracelet where a lone woman was also writing her name.
Then there was a Victorian brooch that was previously owned by some famous woman Claire didn’t know. The starting bid was twenty thousand dollars. But at last look, the bid was nearly double that. It, too, was where it needed to be.
“Three, two, one. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to step away from the auction to enjoy the rest of the evening.” With the final direction from the announcer, she heard the first chords of a guitar strummed from the stage. The band hired for the evening welcomed everyone.
The coordinators for the event started to push in as the guests dispersed.
Her gaze ignored those acting as they should and instead found a man who switched places with the woman gunning for the bracelet. His back to her, Claire started to move forward.
His hand reached out to touch the jewelry. Something many of the guests had done all night. But when Claire peered closer, she saw something dangle in his fingers for less than a second. With a flick of his hand, he switched the bracelet on the table with whatever he had in his palm. If she’d blinked, she would have missed it.
Her heartbeat sounded in her ears as her adrenaline started to pump.
“We have a situation,” Claire said into her mic as she moved to intercept the man.
The silence that followed had her cussing dysfunctional equipment.
She didn’t run, didn’t call out. These events called for diplomacy, so unless someone was flashing a weapon, the team was meant to apprehend and deal with any situation with as few witnesses as possible.
The thief kept his back to her as he slowly walked away. Unlike the other guests, he wasn’t headed to a table or the bar line that never seemed to end. He headed toward the back of the house to where the catering vans were clustered.
Claire looked away for less than a second to signal to Jax. Only Jax’s view was blocked by the exiting guests. When Claire looked back,