Thieves Like Us Read online

  An old man smoking on the sidewalk glanced at Rocky as he dashed by, tossed his cigarette in the gutter, and ducked into the bar. Probably avoiding whatever trouble had Rocky sprinting.

  He reached the car and rounded it quickly, examining it. Dark blue, just like Janet’s. There were no marks on the body, but it had been recently repaired. Nothing inside to give him a clue about the owner, and he didn’t know her license plate number. He circled the car again, trying to remain calm, but something inside him was edging toward panic. He ran his hand over

  the smooth metal, peered through the windows, and stepped on something hard in the process.

  He bent down. Keys—with a large, silver rectangle bearing a company emblem and black letters. He held it up to catch the light. Aims Air Freight.

  A cold jolt of fear hit him in the gut. She hadn’t left here on her own.

  His gaze darted around the parking lot, though he knew there was nothing to find. She’d been taken. There was no other possibility.

  Questions tumbled through his mind as the fear inside him thrashed and twisted like a wounded snake. This had to do with the Pellinni Jewels. Had he been followed again? Had his sting been turned back on him?

  He couldn’t think clearly; instinct took over. With frantic fingers, he called Ben. The Detroit police would take a call about a missing woman more seriously from Ben than from Rocky. Then Ben could help him search for Janet.

  Rocky winced, remembering how the police chief had ordered him to keep Janet safe. His ass was grass, but he didn’t care. Nothing Ben could do or say would be worse than what he already felt. If he didn’t find Janet . . .

  He would. He refused to think about any other possibility.

  Ben was terse, snapping out questions and ordering him to stay put before hanging up. Rocky closed his phone, breathing as heavily as if he’d run a mile. His heart thundered even faster. He was torn, anxiety telling him to move, to search for her, and reality telling him he had no idea where to start. He paced the lot while he waited for the police.

  There could be witnesses. The idea made him look frantically up and down the street. The group of kids was gone from the corner, but someone from the bar might have noticed her. She was pretty and had been in enough of a huff to be memorable, even without the expensive car.

  Yanking open the door to the bar, he stopped just inside, scanning the small room. Dim yellow lamps hung over a banged-up pool table and several booths, but no one occupied them. At the bar, three old men looked up, faintly curious. The bartender who’d been slouched over the bar talking to them straightened up but said nothing.

  The closest man was the smoker Rocky had seen earlier. All three seemed well past their first beer. The bartender was younger and far more clear-eyed. Rocky included him in his hard stare as he spoke. “Anyone see a young woman in the parking lot next door? White girl, pretty, short dark hair. It would have been just a few minutes ago.”

  The old guys looked at each other as if checking to see who knew the correct answer before shaking their heads. The bartender offered, “Ain’t been outside.”

  The smoker waved a thumb in the direction of the parking lot on the other side of the wall. “She the one drivin’ that fancy BMW?”

  Excitement cracked through him like electricity, but he held perfectly still, as if his anxiety might leap across the room and shock the old guy. “Yes! You saw her?”

  The guy tipped his beer and took a swig. “Nope. Nice ride, though.” He looked at the guy next to him. “Tol’ ya someone had a Beemer out there.”

  The fraying feeling inside Rocky intensified in a rapid unraveling of patience. Keeping his voice calm and even was the hardest thing he’d done in a long time. “Did you see anyone out there at all? Anyone passing by or hanging around? It’s important. Someone may have abducted this woman.”

  The old men shook their heads and the bartender said, “Sorry, man.” Two seconds later, they casually went back to their conversation. Just another missing woman, nothing worth getting excited about. Rocky turned and banged out the door, stalking back to the lot as the first police cruiser pulled up.

  Ben arrived minutes later, and Rocky couldn’t tell him any more than he told the Detroit cops. Janet hadn’t received any threats that he knew of and had only been out of his sight for a few minutes. He did his best to leave Vasili out of it, admitting that he’d been at the barber shop, claiming he’d come for a haircut. Ben gave his overlong hair a skeptical glance, but when asked, Vasili backed up his claim, fairly demanding that the police officers admire Rocky’s artistically trimmed ends. There was no way he’d mention the sting they had planned, and no way it would ever net them a thief now with three cop cars parked outside the door. The plan might be ruined for good. And Vasili looked torn between worry over Janet and a strong desire to string Rocky up by his tender parts and put his barber’s shears to use on something other than his hair.

  It was hard to care. If anything happened to Janet, it wouldn’t matter what Vasili did to him. Nothing mattered to him as much as she did, not even his own life.

  As soon as he could, Rocky snuck away. He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to do something. If he stood around simply listening to theories he’d go crazy. He was at his car when his cell phone rang, and he dug it out of his pocket, half-annoyed at the interruption and half-hopeful it would be Janet.

  He looked down and there was her name, solid and reassuring, on the caller ID. He flipped it open, plastering it to his ear. “Janet! Where are you? Are you okay? Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

  “Really? Good to know.”

  The voice was wrong—male, cocky, familiar. Anger tore through him. “Easy! Where’s Janet?”

  “Well, duh, where do you think? Your pretty little girlfriend is right here, keeping me company.”

  Fury churned in his chest, gripping his heart like a vise. He had to clamp his lips together to keep from sputtering profanities and threats. Caution was required, and he fought down the crazy part of him that longed to throttle the little weasel. His free hand plugged one ear to dull the city sounds and he lowered his head to growl into the phone. “What did you do to her? If you hurt her, I swear I’ll kill you.”

  It was too rash; he knew it as soon as he said it.

  “Hey! I’d watch the threats if I were you. Understand?” The sharp edge that jumped into Easy’s voice convinced him to back off.

  Rocky repeated the pertinent part. “What did you do to her?”

  “Why? Are you worried? Mad?” Easy taunted. He almost expected to hear a childish “Na-na-na-na-na.” If the man were standing in front of him, Rocky’s hands would be around Easy’s neck, choking the life out of him. “How does it feel when someone takes the thing you care about most? Yeah, I finally figured out what it was, Hernandez. Or rather, who.”

  Rocky didn’t think taking Janet came close to the few gold doubloons he’d reclaimed from Easy, but he knew better than to say it. If Easy considered this a game of getting even, then it should be over now.

  “So what do you want from me, Easy? You did what you said you were going to do. Congratulations. Now let her go.”

  “Does that sound fair to you?” The voice on the phone sounded unperturbed, even friendly. “I don’t remember getting my gold coins back. Seems like that would be more fair, don’t ya think?”

  He wanted to make a trade? “I told you, those coins belonged to my grandmother. I gave them back.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, ’cause I changed my mind,” he said conversationally. “It turns out you have something I want more—the Pellinni Jewels.”

  He nearly held the phone out and stared at it. “You want the Pellinni Jewels?”

  “Surprised? Did you think they were out of my league? I’m hurt, Hernandez.”

  That was exactly what he’d thought, but he revised it quickly. If Easy was the Pellinni thief, the man was also far more dangerous than he’d ever imagined. “You were the one who was coming to make
a deal with Vasili?”

  “Yeah, and imagine how surprised I was to see your girlfriend come skipping out of Vasili’s place.”

  “She has nothing to do with this.”

  “I don’t care.” The smooth voice had become irritated. “I don’t care if she’s your partner or if you just bring your girlfriend along on jobs. What I care about is getting what I want. I want the Pellinni Jewels; I have a buyer waiting.”

  Now was not the time to say he’d never had the jewels. “You want to trade Janet for the jewels?”

  “You get your valuables, so to speak, and I get mine.”

  All he could think was stall. “Vasili won’t give them to me.”

  “Your problem. Meantime, sweet little Janet and I will get better acquainted.”

  Rocky responded exactly as Easy knew he would— with revulsion and rage—and used every bit of willpower he had to keep from screaming and swearing into the phone. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He also didn’t want to imagine Easy laying one finger on Janet, much less doing whatever else came to the little asshole’s mind. And the longer it took to get Janet back, the greater the chance that something would happen.

  “Oh, and Hernandez? If you even think of calling the cops, you’ll never see your cute little girlfriend again. You won’t even find her body.”

  Rocky tried to think. Easy and Janet had to be somewhere nearby, no more than a half hour from where he stood, and yet he had no idea how to find them. The cell call could only be traced to a tower, which still left a million possible hiding places in a city this dark and dense. They could be anywhere. Even Canada, which was only fifteen minutes away by bridge or tunnel. Or boat. Security on the Detroit River between Canada and Michigan was lax enough for a criminal like Easy to bypass.

  The possibilities made Rocky sick. Waiting even a day was too much. He didn’t trust Easy to keep his hands off Janet, and Rocky didn’t even know if she’d been hurt when he took her.

  “Okay.” He rubbed his forehead and took deep, slow breaths, inhaling damp night air. He had to sound like he intended to do what Easy asked. “I’ll get the jewels, even if I have to buy them,” he lied. “But I have to know that Janet is okay. You’re not getting them until I talk to her.”

  “Of course. Call me when you get them, you know the number.”

  “Wait!” He relaxed marginally when Easy didn’t hang up. “That’s not good enough. How do I know she’s not already dead?” He didn’t think Easy would go that far, but he hadn’t been terribly competent with the gas bomb. Rocky had no idea how Janet had been abducted. Hit on the head? Injected with drugs? The possibilities had him breaking out in a cold sweat. “You have to let me talk to her.”

  No answer. “Easy?”

  “Hang on,” Easy snapped.

  It was simple to play weak and helpless when you were puking your guts out on a cold cement floor. Whatever had been used to knock her out had a brief but nasty effect on her stomach. And whoever had done it had bound her wrists and ankles with duct tape, connecting them with a string of tape that wasn’t long enough for comfort, forcing her to keep her hands between her knees even while she was sprawled on the floor. It made being sick pretty damned awkward.

  She’d wiggled as far away as she could from the mess on the floor. She was still bleary-eyed and groggy when Easy Joey crouched in front of her, holding out a cell phone and demanding she tell Rocky she was okay. Like she could make it sound believable.

  Easy was giving her instructions she barely understood as she struggled to clear her head. She blinked as he talked, trying to make her eyes focus. Where was she? A dark doorway loomed to her right and a long hallway lay behind Easy’s squatting form, a bare bulb on its ceiling the only source of light. “Where am I?” she mumbled.

  “Never mind. Just tell him you’re okay,” he ordered. She was pretty sure it was the second or third time he’d said it. “But nothing else.”

  Speaking into a cell phone, he said, “Shut up and listen, Hernandez. I’m lettin’ her talk so you know she’s okay. But she’s not answering any questions and I’ll hear anything you say. Got it?”

  Her mind was clearing, and she finally realized who Easy was talking to. “Rocky?”

  “Yeah. Here, talk.” He pressed the phone to her ear.

  She cleared her throat and spoke hesitantly. “Rocky?” It still came out scratchy and weak.

  “Janet!” His voice was edged with something she’d never heard from him before—fear. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m . . . okay.” Not really, but she knew being alive was all that mattered.

  “I’ll come get you as soon as I can, babe.”

  “I know.”

  “Okay, that’s it.” Easy pulled the phone away.

  “Wait! I have to tell him something!” She didn’t know what, but something that would help him figure out where she was. It was going to be hard, considering she didn’t know that herself.

  “You think I’m stupid? You’re done. He knows you’re alive. If I were you, I’d just hope I stayed that way.”

  “Please! It’s important.”

  Her gaze darted around, looking for something that would give Rocky a clue. Squinting around Easy, she peered down the dimly lit hallway where a metallic flash caught her eye. If he noticed, he probably thought she was still woozy, leaning over like that and scrunching her forehead. But something looked familiar. It took several seconds, but she got it: She was looking at the edge of the barred window in Sleazy’s pawnshop. They must be in the back of the shop, looking toward the front. And the metal winking at her from the floor beyond was the edge of Freddie’s cage.

  Her thoughts scrambled as she raised pleading eyes to Easy. “I left my dog locked up. Just let me tell him to feed my dog.”

  “I don’t give a shit about your dog.”

  But he did look annoyed by her pleas. “But my poor puppy,” she whined, making it sound as obnoxious as possible. “He must be so anxious and hungry, and his water is probably gone, too.”

  “Shut up!”

  “I’m just so worried about him!” Desperation made a tear slip out, and she added some sniffles for effect. “Please let me tell him! I can’t stand the thought of little Freddie suffering all night, maybe even longer.”

  Easy flinched from her grating whine, looking as uncomfortable as if someone had dragged fingernails down a chalkboard. She cranked up the volume and added an hysterical edge. “Oh, God, what if no one finds me? What if I never get home and poor little Freddie—”

  “Okay! Christ, just shut up. I can’t stand that whining. Just tell him to feed the dog. Nothing else.”

  She sniffed and nodded. “I promise.”

  He held the phone back to her ear. “Rocky?”

  “Janet!” His voice was pure panic. “What’s going on? Has he hurt you?”

  She wanted to talk to him forever, but Easy’s cold stare drilled into her, reminding her that his patience was nearly gone. With her gaze locked on Easy’s, she spoke over Rocky’s frantic questions.

  “Rocky, just listen. Remember to feed my dog, okay?”

  “What?”

  She opened her mouth to repeat it, but Easy pulled the phone away, disconnecting before she could say another word. “There, little Fido’s safe. But you’re not, so shut the fuck up.”

  She did. She just hoped Rocky figured out her message.

  Rocky lowered the phone slowly. Feed her dog? Freddie didn’t belong to Janet, but he was the only dog they both knew. Dog food was her clue? It seemed an unlikely stretch. Or had feeding him just been an excuse to bring up the dog. Because she hoped he’d connect Freddie to—

  Damn, he loved that woman. He was in the car and laying rubber within seconds. When he got there he could figure out if he’d guessed right and call Ben.

  Or not. Some things were best left to the thieves.

  Janet figured Easy probably had an aversion to distraught females and gave in just to get her to shut up. She hoped that meant
he didn’t have enough duct tape left to cover her mouth.

  Just in case, she pretended to gag again, which at least got him to take a couple steps back. “Sorry about the ether,” he mumbled, looking slightly ill himself. “That should wear off soon.”

  It was wearing off, but she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know. She studied his face in the dim light, trying to figure out the best way to play it. He was keeping a cautious distance and casting disgusted glances at the pool of vomit to her right. Clearly not the grit and fortitude type. And since he’d trussed her like a roped calf, he probably feared any sort of aggression. Meek and cooperative was probably the way to go, to keep his defenses down. She might even catch him off guard if she could play on his sympathy.

  “Can I clean up?” She kept her voice soft and a little whiney.

  “No.”

  So much for mercy. “Please?” She tried again, adding a helpless, pleading look. It had worked before. “Just a drink of water to wash my mouth out?”

  His lips pulled into a grimace as if tasting sickness in his own mouth. With a sudden pivot, he disappeared into the darkened room across the hall, reappearing with a paper cup. He thrust it toward her mouth. “Here.”

  She leaned toward it, swishing the first mouthful and spitting it on the floor, then eagerly swallowing the next. He pulled the cup back as she tried for more. “You’ll get sick again.”

  He was probably right about that. The water had stirred up a feeling of nausea and she leaned against the wall, willing it to pass. The fact that he seemed to be familiar with the effects of ether didn’t make her feel any better. While she concentrated on quieting her stomach, Easy laid about a mile of paper toweling over the puddle of puke, taking care to cover every drop. Just a little neurotic?

  He stepped back and stared at her. She had the creepy feeling he’d do the same thing on a date. Apparently it was up to her to carry the conversation.

  Best to start with the obvious. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “I’m holding you for ransom.”

  “For the Pellinni Jewels—yeah, I heard.” She’d barely been conscious, but that much had sunk in. It was a dead-end topic, since she didn’t plan to stick around long enough to be traded. The duct tape was going to make escape difficult, though. Maybe she could get him to release her if it were for something a bit more serious than a drink of water.