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Authors: Ally Carter

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BOOK: Perfect Scoundrels
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S
leep every chance you get. Eat every chance you get. These were two of many lessons that Kat had learned at her father’s knee and her uncle’s table, but on the long flight over the Atlantic, she couldn’t manage to doze. She wanted to blame it on her coach-class ticket, but every time she closed her eyes, she heard Hale’s words and the slamming door. It felt like a dream on a constant loop inside her head, and as much as she wanted to press pause, it just kept playing over and over, and the scene never changed.

Not on the walk through the airport. Not during the long ride in the back of the cab. Even standing on Uncle Eddie’s stoop, Kat still saw the look on Hale’s face, and for once she had absolutely no idea how to steal the thing she really wanted.

“Don’t worry,” Gabrielle said. “He’ll get over it.”

Kat put her key in the lock and looked out over the sleepy street. Newspapers lay waiting for owners; the bakery on the corner had hot bagels and warm coffee. Gabrielle gave a full-body stretch and never once complained about the discomfort of the flight. There are some things even worse than flying coach internationally, and Gab knew it.

“He’ll come around,” she said. “Trust me, boys always come around.”

But that wasn’t it, so Kat shifted. “I’m not worried. I’m scared.”

“Hale will be fine. He’s just got to—”

“Not about Hale. Garrett. There was this moment in London… It was like…” She trailed off, unable to say the words aloud.

“What?”

“It was almost like he knew I was there. Or he was expecting me to be there or something.”

“You’re getting paranoid in your old age,” Gabrielle teased, but Kat didn’t think it was funny.

“Remember what Marianne said? About Garrett?”

“You mean how she was surprised that Hazel never got around to firing him?”

“Well, looks like that’s not exactly correct.” Kat handed Gabrielle the piece of carbon paper that she had found in the desk.

“How old is this?” Gabrielle asked with a laugh, but then her eyes scanned over the copy.

“Hazel typed that letter four days before her coma—two days before she arrived in New York.”

Gabrielle stopped reading. “So Hazel was old-fashioned? What does that…”

“Read the first line. Right there.” Kat pointed to the words. “It’s a termination letter. Hazel did fire Garrett. And five days later, she died.”

Neither Kat nor Gabrielle mentioned those facts again as they let themselves into their uncle’s house and made their way toward the kitchen. They didn’t reach for a light. They didn’t have to. Even without their particular skill sets, the walk was one they both knew well.

“And…?” Eddie said just before they reached the kitchen.

When Gabrielle shook her head, Eddie hung his and gave each niece a pat on the back. “It was a good thing you did for your young man, Katarina.”

Kat was fairly certain that Uncle Eddie was the smartest person she’d ever known, but right then she was equally certain he was wrong. He hadn’t seen the look in Hale’s eyes. He hadn’t heard the fury in his voice. Eddie didn’t know what Kat had spent the past twelve hours fearing—that she had flown all the way to London only to lose something she could never, ever steal back.

Kat wanted to tell him, beg him to explain to her exactly how she could go back in time and do it all differently. But she didn’t bother. Even Uncle Eddie couldn’t con the clock.

She just sat quietly as her uncle headed upstairs; but when he reached the door, he gave one last backward wave toward the table.

“Something came for you, Katarina.”

There was a letter on the table. As soon as Kat touched it, she knew it was important. The paper was heavy cotton, and her name was printed on the front in gold embossment. She turned over the envelope and ran her hand along the raised letters that read
GENESIS
.

Kat took a paring knife and slit the envelope open in one smooth gesture, then pulled out a card and looked down at the words
You are cordially invited to witness the beginning
.

There was the address of Hale Industries and a date and time for the following afternoon. But the thing that made her heart beat faster was the handwritten line at the bottom of the card.

Please come. Use the back door.

“What is it?” her cousin asked.

“I’m not sure,” Kat said, turning the card over and over in her hands. “Some kind of invitation.”

But to what, she didn’t have a clue.

A
t half past noon the next day, Kat found herself in the narrow alley behind Hale Industries’ world headquarters, staring at a locked door. It seemed utterly wrong to stand at the service entrance with an invitation and not a tool belt, and part of Kat wanted to flee the scene. Run. Disappear into the midtown traffic. But before she could move, a shadow appeared on the wall just over her shoulder, and a vaguely familiar voice said, “Well, hello there.”

Kat looked at the man coming up the alley behind her. Immediately, she recognized the white hair and bulging belly. But there was something different about the man whom she’d met at the funeral. This time, he wasn’t in mourning. This time, he was…nervous.

“Hi, Mr. Foster,” Kat said.

Silas nodded, impressed. “That’s a good memory you have there.”

“Thank you,” Kat said. “I try.”

“Allow me.” Silas swiped his ID badge across an electronic pad beside the door, and Kat gave a soft sigh.

“The McClintock Three-sixty,” she whispered when the light flashed from red to green.

“What was that?” he asked.

“That lock is really nifty,” Kat hurried to add, then smiled and bounced on the balls of her feet. She must have looked far more innocent than she felt, because the old man opened the door wide and gestured for her to go ahead.

“Come on in,” he told her. “I’ll show you the way.”

Kat had never been inside the Hale Industries headquarters before, but she didn’t pause to consider the irony. She was there. Hale had invited her. And the fact that he’d sent her through the back door might not have meant anything
at all.

“Come along, Miss Bishop. I believe the party is upstairs.”

Mr. Foster pushed the elevator call button, and a moment later, Kat was inside, achingly aware of the silence that filled the shiny car.

“I’m so glad to see you here,” Silas told her. “It’s a big day for us.”

“What
is
today, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Well, before Hazel died, she and I were working on a new project. Today we unveil it for the board of directors. The real party is next week—a
gala
, I believe they’re calling it. You should come to that, too. It’s going to be quite the big
to-do.”

“Sounds exciting,” Kat said, and laughed a little at the old-fashioned phrase.

“It is,” Silas said. “I’m only sad Hazel won’t be here to
see it.”

The elevator made a
ding
and came to a stop.

“Allow me.” Silas held open the doors and gestured for Kat to step out into a corridor lined with paintings. There was something eerily familiar about them all, and Kat was just starting to wonder what it was when Silas said, “Miss Bishop, allow me to introduce the Hale men.”

He gestured to an old oil painting of a man in uniform. “That’s Mr. Hale the First. He was something of a character, I’m told. A big brute of a man. Powerful.” Silas puffed up his chest as if to prove the point. “He served in the military with one of the British princes. Saved his life, even, if the stories are true. And was rewarded handsomely for it.”

The next painting showed a man on a factory line, surrounded by crates and machinery.

“Mr. Hale the Second,” Silas said. “He was the first to come to this country, I believe. A bright man, by all accounts. Greedy. But bright.”

They took a few more steps, and Kat came even with two matching portraits.

“W. W. the Third is on your left,” Silas said. “And that’s his little brother Reginald on the right.”

“W. W. the Third was Hazel’s husband?” Kat asked.

“He was. He commissioned this building in 1969.” Silas smiled a little with the memory, then lowered his voice. “But make no mistake about it, my dear, this is the house that Hazel built.”

Silas eased down the long hall, to the last portrait hanging in the row. It was the same image that had run in the paper, and Kat looked at the original, wishing she’d known the woman behind it.

“As much as the Hales understand money, Hazel understood people,” Silas said. “None of these old boys would say so, but this place changed when she came on board.” He leaned close to Kat and whispered, “For the better.”

Kat couldn’t pry her gaze away from the portrait. She wished more than anything that she could ask that woman for advice.

“Are you okay, my dear?” Silas Foster asked. Something in the way he looked at her made Kat forget herself for a moment. He seemed so wise and sage and trustworthy, and Kat wanted to tell him everything—about Hazel and Marianne, the will and the trustee’s trip to London.

And Hale.

Kat wanted to tell Silas that her boyfriend wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, and beg him to go down to his lab and create a device that would make everything okay.

“Kat?” he asked again. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m just a little…” Kat began, but she didn’t know how to continue. So instead she asked the question that had been on her mind for hours. “Mr. Foster, what
is
Genesis?”

Silas gave a knowing smile. “I guess we’re getting ready to find out.”

Then she watched the man push open a set of double doors, unsure what she was going to find on the other side, totally not expecting what she saw.

Hale. What Kat saw was Hale.

And he was angry.

Kat knew it the second his gaze met hers. His eyes narrowed and his face flushed. He seemed so much older than sixteen, as though the paintings in the hall had come to life and there he stood—a future tycoon being groomed for greatness. But instead of his father’s blank, professional stare, Hale’s face was full of rage; and as he headed her way, Kat had every reason to be shaking.

“What are you doing here?”

He was the person she knew best, trusted most, and in spite of all that, she recoiled from his touch. “You invited me,” she said.

“No. I
didn’t
.”

“But…” Kat began, then let the words trail off.

“Look, Kat. It’s not personal. It’s just that this isn’t really a public thing.”

“I didn’t realize I was the public.”

“You need to leave, Kat. You just…” And then the most naturally gifted inside man that Kat had ever seen was stumbling for words. “I just… Who invited you?”

“I did.” Kat felt Silas’s hand at her back. “Genesis isn’t for my generation—it’s for yours. Thought it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of young eyes on it.”

“Oh.” Hale forced a smile at Silas and then shifted his gaze to Kat. “I see.”

Kat wanted to feel her blood boiling, to find the strength to yell, but everything was going cold instead.

“Now, you two have fun.” Silas gave them a wink and crossed the room.

Marcus was there, floating through the crowd with a tray of champagne. She recognized several people from the funeral—members of the board, Kat assumed. Hale’s mother stood alone in the corner. And something about it all made Kat feel small, inconsequential. Even with Hale beside her, she had never felt more alone in her life.

“Hale, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Son?” Senior was walking toward them, looking right through Kat as if she didn’t exist at all.

“I’ve got to go, Kat,” Hale said, but all Kat heard was her cousin’s voice whispering the words
secret girlfriend
.…

And then a different set of words flashed through her mind:
I don’t have a girlfriend anymore
.…

“Hale”—she pulled him close—“we need to talk.”

But Hale just brushed her aside. “I’m through talking.”

Kat didn’t want to make a scene—it went against her upbringing, her DNA. So she let him leave. And even though he never looked back, Kat could feel somebody watching, staring.

She turned, taking in the room, and there he was, on the other side of the lab. At least a dozen people stood between them, and yet Kat knew that Garrett was looking right at her. Not blinking. Not smiling.

A good job was nothing more than a play, Kat believed. And right then she couldn’t forget that she was backstage at someone else’s con. Kat wanted to shout and point at Garrett, tell everyone what he’d done. She felt the words bubbling up inside her, but before they could break free, Silas moved to the center of the room.

“If I can have your attention, please,” he called to the men and women assembled. He looked and sounded almost like a preacher when he said, “Thank you for joining us today. As everyone in this room knows, we’re here because Hazel wanted a new beginning for Hale Industries. A fresh start. A Genesis, if you will.”

Silas walked to a wall safe in the corner of the room. It was an excellent model, and Kat was impressed. She had no idea what kind of scientist the man was, but at least he had good taste in safes.

“Hazel came to this very room several years ago, and together we talked about the future. Of Hale Industries. Of the Hale family. And—not to put too fine a point on it—the world. Hazel knew she wasn’t going to live forever—none of us will. But she wanted to build something that would last for generations—something that would alter everything we touch. Something every man and woman could carry in the palm of their hand and be better for it.”

When Silas reached into the safe, it was as though the whole room was holding its breath. He held his hands out, like an offering, and then gazed down at the tiny device that lay there.

It was smaller than a deck of cards, gleaming and shining under the bright lights of the lab. When Silas held it up for the audience to see, Kat wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking at. But then again, she realized, that was kind of the idea. This was new, fresh. Big. And it was Hale’s.

“Genesis, simply put, is power.” Silas pointed to the sleek panels that formed the device’s shell. “These pull energy from the sun.” He slid open a tiny door to reveal the delicate workings inside. “This technology harnesses kinetic energy so that every time the device moves, shakes, tilts—that energy is converted as well.”

Silas closed the device and held it aloft again. “All of this technology has existed for years. We just combined it and shrunk it, and now…hopefully…it is in a package that can change the world.”

Silas took a cord from the table and attached one end to the Genesis prototype. Then he picked up a cell phone and removed its battery. “Whatever you need charged—whenever it needs charging—all you have to do is plug Genesis in.” He attached the powerless cell phone to the prototype, and instantly the phone sprang to life.

Kat felt the room change. No one moved or spoke for a long time. There was nothing but a long beep and a solemn hush to mark the occasion before, finally, one of the board members dared to speak.

“Foster?” The man cleared his throat. “Are you saying… What you mean to tell us is that Genesis
works
?”

“Yes.” Silas gave an
I told you so
smirk. “It does. Of course, this is just a prototype—just one model. But given time, I think Hale Industries could use this technology in a way that touches almost everything. Cell phones. Laptops. I suspect even cars could eventually be completely self-sustaining.”

Kat looked down at the small device one more time. It felt like all of Hale Industries could fit in the palm of her hand. People crowded around Silas, wanting to see the prototype up close, ask him questions. She could feel the whole tide rising, and she knew that the board was pleased. Hale Industries would be fine. They didn’t need Hale, didn’t need him at all, so she reached for his hand and pulled him from the crowd.

“Hale, can I talk to you?”

“It’s incredible.” He looked at her. “Isn’t it incredible?”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m—”

“Hazel should have seen this.”

“Hale…” Kat said again, but Hale was walking away.

She tried to follow him, but a most unusual roadblock stood in her way.

“Well, hello again,” Hale’s mother said. She’d traded her black dress for purple, and her short hair was perfectly coifed. Her shoes probably cost a thousand dollars, but even they paled in comparison to the broach she wore at the base of her neck.

“Do you like it?” Her long graceful fingers brushed the diamond-and-ruby pendant that Kat had last seen in Hazel’s portrait. “It was my mother-in-law’s. It has been given to all the wives of the W. W. Hales for generations.” Her gaze slid toward Hale. “Someday it will belong to the wife of my son.”

“That’s nice,” Kat muttered, desperate for something to say.

“I’m so glad you could come today,” the woman said.

“You are?” Kat blurted a little too quickly.

“Of course.” And then the strangest thing happened. She put her arm around Kat’s waist, steered her carefully to a quiet corner of the room. “We were so afraid when Scooter took a leave of absence from school that it would be hard on him. But, honestly, this is bringing us so much closer to our son. And the people in his life.”

She gave Kat’s waist a tiny squeeze.

“You’ll have to come up to the country house, dear. We don’t want Scooter losing touch with his friends. Or…anyone who might be more than just a friend.” She gave a smile, and Kat wondered what kind of alternate reality she had fallen into.

Marcus passed by, and Kat mouthed “help,” but he just offered Hale’s mother some champagne and continued through the room, wordless.

BOOK: Perfect Scoundrels
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