Thieves Like Us Page 23

  “More than friend, maybe?”

  Vasili’s hard look said this was important, although Rocky couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Either way, he preferred to keep Janet out of it—and far away from anything to do with Vasili. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe you got hots for this girl, eh? Got it bad.”

  The crudeness of it irritated him, making him respond a little too abruptly. “Hey, what do you care? That’s my concern, not yours.”

  He expected to see Vasili’s eyes go cold, ruining his only chance to lure the man who was after Janet into the open. Instead, Rocky was startled by a burst of laughter.

  “Yes! I am right!” Vasili grinned, his caterpillar eyebrows wiggling up and down. “Girl is special, eh? She have you by balls.” He reached over the counter to slug Rocky’s shoulder with a beefy paw. “Admit it.”

  Rocky sighed, knowing he was backed into a corner. “I love her, okay? I admit it. Does that make a difference?” It sounded belligerent, even to his own ears. He must be out of his mind, allowing his frustration to get the better of him around Vasili. The man could make people disappear forever—had made them disappear— just because he didn’t like what they said. If Rocky didn’t get a grip, he’d be of no help to Janet at all.

  “Yes. Makes difference,” Vasili intoned, suddenly serious. “You take risk, try to catch criminal, because you love this girl. Makes very big difference.”

  Rocky rubbed at the spot on his temple that seemed to be the source of a perpetual throbbing pain lately. “Look Vasili, I swear my judgment hasn’t been compromised. Just because—”

  “I do it.”

  He paused, unsure he’d heard correctly. “You will?”

  “I help you by doing sting. We trick thief into coming here to buy Pellinni Jewels. That what you want, yes?”

  “Yes. But . . . why?”

  Vasili’s heavy hand landed on Rocky’s shoulder, drawing him closer to the counter. “Rocky, I tell you important truth. Russians very romantic people. Money, jewels, power . . . all good. Very good. But nothing without love, eh?” The hand lifted from his shoulder, then pounded him in a friendly slug. “You must have Russian blood, my friend. You take big risk for love.”

  Rocky would do whatever it took to keep Janet safe. Risk hardly factored into it.

  “Just promise Vasili one thing.”

  “Uh, sure. What is it?”

  “I meet this girl who wins heart of my friend. You bring her here after.”

  Rocky didn’t like the idea, but if Vasili would help him catch the asshole, how could he say no? He didn’t have a choice. “Sure. You can meet her.” For a quick hello. God help him if Ben and Elizabeth ever found out.

  Vasili beamed. “Good.” He added a nod and a sly smile. “She is beautiful, yes?”

  “Yes.” Rocky smiled back.

  “Sexy?”

  The smile slipped. “Yes.”

  Vasili was looking at the ceiling, deep in thought, and didn’t notice Rocky’s discomfort. “Long blonde hair?”

  “No. Short and brown.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Too bad.”

  “Works for me.”

  Vasili’s sudden laugh nearly made Rocky jump. “That’s all that matters, yes?” Another punch landed on his bruised shoulder. “Yes,” Vasili answered his own question. “Now. We talk details. You tell to me what you need. We catch little fucker and teach him lesson, so I can meet your girl.”

  Rocky exhaled, releasing the tension that had built up. “Yes, first we catch him. Then—” heaven help him “—you meet her.”

  He sincerely hoped Janet was speaking to him by then.

  The Westfield mansion was huge—twenty-two rooms by Janet’s count, not including bathrooms. Janet had torn apart each one today. Just like in her previous searches, she found no trace of Banner’s diamonds. There had to be someplace she hadn’t looked.

  She was allowed to go wherever she wanted around the house and yard, but everyone got twitchy whenever she went outside. She could almost hear red alert sirens as the two security guards suddenly popped out of the bushes, keeping a vigilant eye on the perimeter while she batted tennis balls or swam. It was easier on everyone if she stayed indoors.

  She had no idea where else to look, though. Frustrated, she’d asked to go back to her condo, if only to clean the place up, but Ben had uttered such a forceful “No!” she didn’t press the issue. There was already enough tension in the house when it came to him.

  It had Elizabeth on edge, too. Janet had never seen her composure slip so often, even when Banner’s crimes had been exposed. She’d held her head up through the public embarrassment and handled her grief in private. But the continual friction with Ben left her jumpy and irritable—and so self-absorbed she didn’t seem to notice Libby’s manipulations.

  “Can I call Grandpa Ben and invite him over for dinner?” Libby asked from her lotus position on the ottoman in front of Elizabeth. Janet paused in the doorway where she’d overheard the question, waiting to see what excuse Elizabeth would come up with this time.

  “May I,” Elizabeth corrected.

  “May I ask him?”

  Her grandmother lowered her book. “I think he’s busy tonight, honey.”

  It sounded weak to Janet, and Libby was equally unimpressed. “But I could ask, couldn’t I?”

  “Not while he’s at work. Being chief of police is an important job, and you can’t interrupt him just to ask him to dinner. I’m sorry.”

  Slam. End of discussion.

  Or it should have been. But the threat of being a pest has never deterred a thirteen-year-old.

  Libby waved the argument aside. “That’s okay. Grandpa Ben said I can call his cell anytime. It’ll go to voice mail and he’ll call me back as soon as he gets a chance.” When the tight lines around Elizabeth’s mouth didn’t soften, she rushed to add, “Pretty please, Grandma? With Dad and Ellie in Europe, I really miss having family around.”

  Janet stepped closer, astonished. Libby must be off her game; Elizabeth would never fall for that “poor me” shtick.

  Libby appeared suddenly shy beneath her lowered lashes. “It’s all still kind of new to me, you know. Having a family.” She actually looked slightly embarrassed as her shoulders trembled with an apparent shiver of delight over so many newly discovered relatives. Janet imagined teenagers everywhere gagging in response.

  It shouldn’t have worked, but Libby’s vulnerable eyes hit her grandmother’s guilt dead center.

  Elizabeth’s resistance crumbled. Janet knew her soft gaze was seeing the semiorphaned waif of eighteen months ago, unwanted by one set of grandparents, unaware of the existence of her father and his parents. Never mind that the waif had been a tough kid well in touch with her self-sufficient Payton genes. To Elizabeth, Libby had been a child without the all-important benefit of a stable family, a family with connections to the best schools and opportunities. In Elizabeth’s privileged world, those advantages were Libby’s birthright. And here she was, depriving the poor girl of that very love and support by preventing her from seeing her grandfather.

  Keeping Libby from spending time with Ben was only part of it. Libby’s touching plea had no doubt reminded Elizabeth of all the years she’d deprived Jack of a family, never telling him that Ben was his father. Tons of guilt to tap into there.

  Double whammy. The kid was good.

  Elizabeth smiled in defeat. “Fine, give him a call. Tell him dinner is at seven.”

  Libby unfolded her legs in one fast move and bounced to her feet, giving Elizabeth a quick hug. “Thanks, Grandma. He knows when dinner is, but I’ll ask him to come early so I can spend more time with him, okay?”

  Elizabeth gave a helpless nod before Libby raced off to call Ben. From the floor beside the ottoman, Freddie jumped up and bounded after her.

  Janet’s chuckle from the doorway caught Elizabeth’s attention. “You are such a sucker for that kid,” she said, walking over and dropping onto the couch beside her. “
It’s kind of cute.”

  To her surprise, Elizabeth set her book aside and turned concerned eyes on her. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Do you think Libby seems different lately? Rather . . . needy? She always seems to want Ben around, and I don’t know if it’s because Jack has been away. Do you suppose it’s some sort of phase teenage girls go through, needing a constant father figure?”

  Janet laughed. “You’re asking the wrong person about teenagers and father figures. Libby’s the family expert on psychology.” She paused, knowing she couldn’t pass up this chance to talk to Elizabeth. “But I can tell you that’s not what’s on Libby’s mind.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No.” Any remaining shred of amusement faded at Elizabeth’s confused look. The poor woman was so distracted by her own emotions she really didn’t see what was going on. “Libby’s matchmaking, Elizabeth. She’s getting you and Ben back together.”

  Mild irritation mixed with her puzzlement. “What do you mean? We’ve been together for years. Libby knows that.”

  “Not really.” She reached out to squeeze Elizabeth’s hand, reminding her of the affection behind the words she was about to say. “You and Ben have been fighting for the past few days, and Libby’s scared.”

  She didn’t deny the fighting part. “Scared?”

  “She’s probably afraid she’ll lose one or both of you if you don’t resolve this issue about selling the house.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Elizabeth recovered, dismissing the thought with a shake of her head. “It’s a temporary disagreement, and we’ll work it out. Libby’s a smart girl; I would expect her to know that couples don’t always agree.”

  This was the hard part. “She does. She’s just not used to being the cause of it.”

  “She—” surprise made her falter for a moment. “She’s not the cause. Why would you think that? Why would she think that?”

  “Because she heard you say it.” Hesitation tugged at Janet’s heart; she couldn’t imagine how much it was going to hurt Elizabeth to hear this. “She overheard part of an argument,” she began, editing out the part about Libby eavesdropping on the whole thing. “Apparently you told Ben that selling the house would hurt Libby, that her friends’ parents might think less of her if she didn’t come from this wealthy family with its incredibly expensive mansion.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth dropped, and she raised a hand to cover it. “I . . . I didn’t mean it like that. Oh, God, she heard that?”

  Janet nodded. “Now she’s afraid you think the Payton-Westfield money is buying her friends.” Before Elizabeth could respond, Janet hurried to add, “I told her that’s not true, that her friends would like her no matter where she lived.” She wished she could say Libby believed her, but she wasn’t sure. Teenage girls could be incredibly insecure, and she promised herself to reinforce that lesson later. Right now she had to worry about correcting Elizabeth’s impressions. “But she thinks you believe it, and that it’s keeping you from selling the house. And because Ben refuses to live here, Libby thinks she’s keeping the two of you apart.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It’s not true that Ben doesn’t want to live here?”

  She sighed. “No, that’s true. He said the house was Banner’s idea, not mine, which is accurate. And that it’s inappropriate for the chief of police to live in a huge mansion on the salary of a public servant.”

  Janet could see his point but kept quiet.

  Elizabeth stood suddenly, too agitated to sit still. Pacing the Oriental rug, she wrung her hands. “It’s true I don’t want to sell the house, but it’s not because of Libby. I just told Ben that because I thought it would convince him. It’s because—” her voice caught, the words coming out hoarse and whispery. “It’s me. I’m the one who’s afraid of what people will think.”

  Janet breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to point that one out. “I know.”

  That earned her a sharp look. “I’m not a snob.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and corrected herself. “Okay, yes, I am. I admit I’ve been a spoiled princess my entire life, and I like it. I prefer to live in luxury.” She stood straighter, eyes hard and unflinching. “But I don’t judge others by where they live or what they do for a living, or where their kids go to school.”

  Janet smiled, as much to reassure Elizabeth as at the absurdity of the statement. “I know that, too.”

  “And I wouldn’t want anyone to do that to Libby.”

  “Do they? Do they treat her differently?”

  “I don’t know,” she hedged, then tightened her lips, forcing the truth out. “No, not that I know of. She’s had no problems at school or at the club. But how do I know it’s not because they’re afraid of offending me?”

  “I guess you don’t.” Janet avoided eye contact, absorbed in examining her cuticles. Making the next question sound as nonthreatening as possible. “Do you care if Libby has friends like that, people who are nice to her just because her grandmother is superrich and owns the biggest house in town?”

  The silence finally got to her, and she looked up to meet Elizabeth’s steely gaze, wondering if she’d just crossed the line.

  Janet wasn’t sure until something flickered in the gray-blue depths of Elizabeth’s eyes as she drew a deep breath. “Yes.” Stiffness seeped out of her body like air escaping a blow-up pool toy. “Yes,” she repeated, nodding her head for emphasis. “I care deeply. I don’t want her to have superficial friends. I tried to pretend this thing about selling the house was because of Libby, about protecting her way of life, but I’m the one who’s insecure about how others will perceive me.”

  Elizabeth was talking to herself as much as to Janet, so Janet kept her mouth shut. Some things had to be said out loud, and this seemed to be one of them.

  “I made mistakes before, but they were my own business. I didn’t love Leonard Westfield but I stayed with him anyway. That was my bad decision. But then Banner—” Janet didn’t expect her to list Banner’s sins, since they were too numerous to name. “You know what happened as well as I do, Janet, as much as I wish you didn’t. Smuggling drugs, laundering money, and having his own brother sent to jail for a crime he didn’t commit. And—my God, I still can’t believe it—he and Leonard are somehow responsible for murdering Joe Benton. The police may never prove it, but I know they did it, and so does everyone else in this town. My husband was a murderer. And my son . . . my own son is one of the worst criminals this town has ever seen. It’s—” her voice dropped to a whisper “—it’s shameful.”

  “He’s sick, Elizabeth. It’s not your fault.” It didn’t excuse anything he’d done, but she couldn’t bear to see her ex–mother-in-law suffering for what her son had done.

  “Yes, he is. But it hasn’t stopped me from being embarrassed. And that’s the problem. I’d given up everything to marry Leonard Westfield, to give my children a name and a family with prestige—I gave up Ben. I was a fool, and I paid a steep price. I thought I was past that, but now I’ve been even more foolish. I—” As if she no longer had the energy to hold herself up, she dropped into a brocade wing chair, staring at nothing for several seconds before turning her desperate gaze on Janet. “I can’t believe it. I’ve taught my own granddaughter that people’s perceptions are more important than who she is. That having money and keeping up appearances matters more than anything else.” She let her head fall into her hands. “I’m such a hypocrite. What have I done to Libby?”

  “Nothing!” Janet hurried over to kneel in front of her, clasping Elizabeth’s clenched hands in her own. “Libby is the nicest, most well-adjusted kid I’ve ever known. Her friends like her for who she is, not for where she lives.” At least, she prayed they did. “You just need to let her know that you aren’t staying here because of her.”

  “No,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m staying because of me. Because I’m shallow and afraid to face the world without the protection of my fancy house and all the trappings of wealth. What a gr
eat example for my granddaughter.”

  “That’s a bit harsh.”

  “No. It’s embarrassing, but it’s true.”

  She should have known Elizabeth would be as unflinchingly honest with herself as she was with others. And as cathartic as their conversation might have been for her, only one thing mattered. “As long as Libby knows that whatever differences you and Ben have, it’s not because of her, or because of what you want for her.”

  She nodded, deep in thought. “You’re absolutely right. I have to fix this as soon as possible.”

  It was typical Elizabeth: Identify the problem, take control, and fix it. Janet smiled to herself. “I think Libby understands, but she’ll be glad to hear it from you.”

  Elizabeth stood, her gaze focused and clear, and smoothed her skirt. “Thank you, Janet. Will you excuse me? I don’t think I should wait any longer.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She refrained from adding, And for God’s sake, work it out with Ben while you’re at it. She hoped it was possible, but no one knew better than she did that some issues couldn’t be worked out, no matter how you felt about the other person. No matter how much you cared or how wrong your world felt without him. Sometimes it was out of your hands.

  Unless you refused to concede.

  Janet was more determined now than ever to resolve the issues that were keeping Rocky from her. There had to be a logical way to figure out what Banner had done with the stones.

  The diamonds had been close by when he’d been arrested at the house—he told her he’d planned to take them—but they weren’t here now. They must have been moved after that. Yet she couldn’t think of anyone he’d trust to keep them safe. Hell, no one would even talk to him these days except his lawyers, and they were paid well for that dubious honor.

  She grew still as her mind suddenly raced. How were his lawyers paid?

  Banner had hired the most expensive criminal lawyers in the state, and she’d seen his financial statements during the divorce. She was sure there were no attorney fees noted. Seabrook wouldn’t do this pro bono. With all Banner’s money tied up in lawsuits and pending charges, he had to have come up with a retainer somehow.