Charmed and Dangerous (3 page)

“Exactly how is she doing this?”

He sighed. “You’re not going to tell me where Cassie might be until I disclose everything, are you?”

“You got that right.”

He growled softly and the sound was so electric it seemed to push right under her skin. Maddie forced herself not to shudder with perverse delight. What was it about this guy that simultaneously repelled yet attracted her?

“Okay, here’s the deal.”

Maddie could tell he begrudged having to fill her in. Well, too bad. If he wanted information from her, he’d have to pony up with some of his own.

The wind gusted cold and she felt her nipples bead beneath her sweat top. David was staring at her chest but trying to pretend he wasn’t.

“You wanna go sit in my car?” He gestured up the hill toward the parking lot. The breeze tousled his already spiky hair, giving him a roguish look.

She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I promise I won’t bite.”

Her natural cautiousness outweighed her desire for warmth. “I’m fine. Your story?”

“I’ve been tracking Shriver for years, but he’s pretty damned slick.”

“Slicker than you obviously.” Maddie knew she was aggravating him, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Call it retribution for the way his rugged good looks provoked her heretic hormones.

David glared. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

“Go on.”

“Peyton Shriver is thirty-eight, a native of Liverpool, England,” he said. “His father was a petty criminal who fell in with a dangerous crowd, got involved in armed robbery and ended up a lifer. His mother was an alcoholic who was run down by a truck on her way home from the liquor store when Shriver was ten.”

“Poor kid.”

“Save your sympathy. Shriver’s aunt Josephine took him in. She lived in New York City and she’d married into money. She didn’t have any kids of her own and she doted on her charming nephew. When Josephine died, her husband cut Shriver off without a cent. Desperate for a way to support the lifestyle he’d come to enjoy, he launched a series of sweetheart scams, focusing mainly on older women.”

“What’s that got to do with my sister?”

“Hold on. I’m getting to that. There was one victim in particular. Her family once had a great deal of money, but the fortune had been squandered over the years. She had planned on funding her retirement with the last remaining family heirloom, a Rembrandt worth close to a million dollars. Shriver romanced her, then waltzed away with the painting.”

Something in his expression, something in the way his body tensed told Maddie this case meant more to him than just business. He’d flattened out his lips, fisted his hands and broadened his stance, as if secretly readying himself for a fight.

Had he known the woman with the Rembrandt? Was his pursuit of Shriver as much about revenge as duty?

“After that theft, Shriver dropped out of sight for several years,” David said.

“Living off the money from the Rembrandt,” Maddie guessed.

He nodded. “A few months ago a new spate of art thefts bearing Shriver’s unique pretty boy signature—but focusing mainly on museum employees rather than rich women with private collections as before—began cropping up all over Europe. The FBI has been working closely with Interpol and we’ve tracked Shriver to Fort Worth. He’s been casing the Kimbell and he started a relationship with Cassie.”

“He’s using her,” Maddie said flatly.

“Yes.”

“But you’re using her too.”

“Okay,” he admitted. “But I only approached her because Shriver is completely nonviolent. He’s never hurt any of the women he’s charmed.”

“What about those other women? Why didn’t you recruit them? Why single out my sister?”

“None of the other victims would testify against him and Cassie was not only willing, but eager to help.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Maddie muttered under her breath.

“With Cassie’s assistance, I had a good chance of foiling the robbery and finally putting Shriver away for a very long time.”

“Had?” His tone made her nervous.

David cleared his throat. “Yesterday I discovered an old friend of Shriver’s had blown into town.”

“Yeah?”

“The guy’s name is Jocko Blanco. He’s also a thief, among other things.”

“What sort of other things?” she asked, even though she was afraid to hear the answer.

“Armed robbery, gun running, drug smuggling. You name it, he’s done it.”

“Even physical violence?” Maddie croaked.

He paused. “I’m afraid so.”

She felt the blood drain from her face and her head spun dizzily.

“Don’t panic,” David said. “I was meeting Cassie to pull her off the case and offer her police protection.”

“But she hasn’t shown up.” Maddie swept a hand at the empty park, the old familiar dread flooding through her body.

“No, she hasn’t.”

She gulped. This wasn’t good news. Not good at all.

David’s cell phone drolly played the theme from
Dragnet.

“Do you think it could be Cassie?” Maddie asked. “Does she have your cell phone number?”

“She does.” He yanked the phone from his coat pocket and glanced at the small display screen. “But it’s not her.” He flipped the phone open. “Marshall here.”

She studied him while he listened to the voice on the other end of the conversation. His countenance changing from dangerous rebel slouch to full-on badass cop posture. He pressed his mouth into a hard, uncompromising line. His gray eyes turned as moody as the heavy clouds brooding overhead. He swore viciously and kicked at a rock.

Alarmed, Maddie backed up, distancing herself.

“I’ll be right there,” he barked into the receiver and then switched off the phone before jamming it back into his pocket.

“What is it?” she asked, knowing in her heart of hearts something was terribly wrong. She imagined a dozen what if scenarios, each more grisly than the last and all of them involving Cassie’s safety. She sank her fingers into David’s forearm and squeezed tight. “Tell me the truth. What’s happened?”

He met her gaze with an uncompromising stare. “Some time during the early morning hours, Peyton Shriver used your sister’s security clearance to break into the Kimbell Art Museum, override the alarm system and steal a Cézanne worth four million dollars.”

Chapter

TWO

W
ITH SINGLE-MINDED
purpose, David spun on his heel and scrambled up the embankment toward his car. That bastard Shriver had trumped him again.

“But the game’s not over yet, you sonofabitch,” David muttered under his breath. “Not by a long shot.”

His neck flamed hot with anger. He had to get to the museum and find out exactly what had gone wrong. Cassie was supposed to give him a heads up if she suspected Shriver was about to make his move. But she hadn’t.

Why not?

He didn’t like the answers his gut flung at him. There were two obvious choices. Either Cassie was in deep danger or she’d thrown her lot in with Shriver. He could easily see flamboyant Cassie entertaining some
Thomas Crown Affair
fantasy about the guy. After all, Shriver was quite the rakish charmer.

Either scenario spelled mucho trouble.

“Hey wait, where you goin’?” Maddie scurried along beside him.

“To the Kimbell,” he said, without looking over at her. The stubborn woman possessed the potential to become a royal pain-in-the-ass and he wasn’t going to encourage her.

“What about my sister?”

“What about her?” he asked, slapping back the guilt digging into his conscience. He had no use for regrets. He made a decision, committed to a course of action and accepted the drawbacks. Only weak men second-guessed themselves.

“Where is she?”

“How should I know?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Don’t you have to go to work or something?”

“I own my own gym. I’ll call my manager and have her arrange for someone else to teach my exercise classes.”

“You can’t come.”

“Why not?”

“I’m too busy to mess around with you.”

“You owe me,” she said, puffing up the hill beside him, matching his stride step for step.

“How do you figure?”

He hesitated just long enough to glare at her and wished he hadn’t. The determined set of her jaw caused him to think wickedly inappropriate thoughts. Like what would she do if he hooked a finger under that tenacious little chin, tilted her face up to meet his and kissed her hard?

She’d probably sock you in the breadbasket.

Probably.

“You shoved me off a cliff.”

“That was an accident.”

“You involved Cassie with a criminal.”

“What’s that got to do with you?”

“We’re twins.”

“And . . . ?”

Maddie tossed her head and her ponytail flicked provocatively from shoulder to shoulder. “Obviously, you don’t understand the bond. We’re exceedingly close.”

“If you two are so chummy, how come Cassie didn’t tell you she was working for me?”

She blinked. “I suppose you swore her to secrecy.”

“Nope.” This time she frowned. David could see it was bugging the hell out of her that her twin hadn’t confided in her. “I do know one thing about Cassie.”

“And what is that?” Maddie asked suspiciously.

“She was raring to prove herself to somebody and after making your acquaintance, I’m guessing that somebody is you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her emerald green eyes flared a warning.

“I don’t have time for this.” He stalked toward the Impala. “She’s your sister, you figure it out.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” She placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“What?” He wanted to brush her off but he was afraid of what might happen to his libido if he touched her. Disconcerted, he stepped back and she voluntarily removed her hand.

“I’ve been abrupt,” she said. “I’m just worried about my sister. Please forgive me.”

“You’re forgiven.” He punched the alarm control on his keypad and his car chirped twice indicating the doors were unlocked.

“Great.” She hurried around to the passenger side.

“Oh, no, no, no.” He quickly reactivated the locks just as she reached for the handle.

“You’re still not taking me with you?”

“That’s right.” He unlocked the driver’s side the old-fashioned way and slid behind the wheel, but before he could get the door shut and the car started, Maddie flew over to jam her body between him and the door. She wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel, anchoring herself to his vehicle.

“You’re fast,” he said.

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Physical talents aside, you’re staying here.” He keyed the ignition and the engine rumbled to life.

“You’re a rude, rude man.”

“Bingo. Now get out of the way if you don’t want me to back over you.”

“Okay, you asked for it. I didn’t want to have to resort to dirty tactics, but you’ve forced my hand.”

“Are you threatening me?” He narrowed his eyes and met her gaze. Damn if a thrill of sexual excitement didn’t blast straight through his groin. Nothing tickled him more than a worthy opponent.

“Yes I am.”

“Bring it on.”

“I will.”

“I think you’re bluffing.”

“I never bluff.”

He eyed her for a long moment. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“I’ll got to the media. Tell them that you involved a private citizen in your cops-and-robbers game and now she’s missing.”

“She’s not missing.”

Maddie waved a hand at the empty park. “You see her anywhere?”

“She’s a flake. Maybe she just forgot.”

“You know better than that,” she chided. “Admit it, you screwed up, David Marshall. You placed my sister’s life in peril when you recruited her to spy on your art thief.”

She was right. And he loathed her rightness. He couldn’t allow her to go to the media. They would be all over this story like hot on chili peppers.

And then his boss would be all over him.

He couldn’t let Shriver win. No way, no how. Better to tolerate this smart-mouthed pop tart than ruin years of detective work.

“Take me with you or I go to the news stations,” she reiterated.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He felt obligated to call her bluff one more time, test her commitment before giving her the green light.

“When it comes to my twin sister, I’ll dare anything.” The look on her face told him that she was dead serious. He admired her devotion to her sibling while at the same time he cursed it.

“This is not the optimal way to get in good with me.” He glowered, doing his best to quell her with a withering glance.

“I could care less about getting in good with you.” She defiantly thrust out her chest, which just happened to be at his eye level.

Trying hard not to notice what a truly exceptional pair of ta-tas she possessed and fantasizing about how they would look out of that sports bra and in a low cut va-va-va-voom dress, David clenched his jaw and unlocked the passenger door.

“Get in.”

“Thank you.” Tossing her head, she pranced around the car and climbed inside. David slammed the Impala into reverse and plowed out of the parking space, tires squealing as he burned rubber.

Fuck! He hated this. Bested twice in one morning.

David made Maddie wait in the employee lounge of the Kimbell Art Museum while he and his team assessed the crime scene. She was none too happy about it.

Before they got out of the car, he’d threatened to handcuff her to the steering wheel if she didn’t agree to obey his orders. The ‘I’ve-reached-the-limits-of-my-patience-don’t-push-me-one-more-millimeter’ expression on his face told her that he meant every word.

And then, just to rub his power in her face, he’d positioned one of the museum security guards in the doorway to keep her from wandering off and doing a little investigating of her own. Jeez. You’d think he didn’t trust her.

Stuck with the situation, she had called her assistant and asked her to find a replacement instructor for the remainder of the week. She had no idea how long it was going to take to resolve this thing with Cassie, but it was better to be prepared for the worst.