Masquerade

Twenty-three

Billie Black

I wake up early that day. Impossible to sleep. All night long I tossed and turned. Jaron did not spend the night with me. He said he had an important thing to do. And when he said it, I had an awful feeling in my belly. A premonition.

‘What is it that you have to do?’ I asked him.

‘It is not dangerous. I just have to help a friend,’ he said.

‘I’m afraid,’ I said.

‘Don’t be. It is nothing.’

‘Can I come with you?’

‘Oh, darling, I wish I could take you, but I can’t.’

So I slept badly, woke up before dawn and spent my time drawing. But I could not concentrate and I hated everything I came up with.

I am surprised when the phone rings. It is Lana.

‘Did I wake you?’ she asks me.

‘I wasn’t in bed,’ I tell her. Her voice sounds strange and strained.

‘What is it?’ I ask her. I think I know even then that it will affect me. I close my eyes and wait for it. And it comes just the way I feared it would.

‘We were burgled last night,’ she says.

‘What?’ My voice is hoarse.

‘Don’t worry, your sapphire is in the bank. There were only a few pieces in the safe.’

‘You were robbed?’ My voice is a shocked whisper.

‘They bungled it, though, and the police have already caught one of them. A woman.’

I feel, I actually feel the blood drain from my face. ‘A woman?’

‘Yes, a woman. They have her in the cell and—’

‘Lana, what’s the woman’s name?’

‘I have no idea.’ She pauses with surprise. ‘Why?’

‘I just need to know. Can you find out?’

‘Of course. I’ll call Blake later and ask him.’

‘No. Now. I need to know now. Please.’

‘Billie, what’s going on?’

‘I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just find out her name first.’

‘OK, call you back.’

I end the call and dial Jaron’s number. His phone is switched off. My hands are trembling. I clasp them tightly together. I unclasp my hands and cover my face with them. There must be some other explanation. I stare at the phone. The truth is I am unable to do anything else but stare at it. My mind is blank with shock. I want to tuck into a tight ball and simply sleep. When the phone rings I jump like a startled cat.

‘Billie,’ Lana says, and just by that one word I already know. ‘It’s Ebony.’

I close my eyes.

‘What’s going on, Billie? She is accusing Jaron of being the ringleader.’

A small, involuntary sound escapes my lips. In my head, I see Ebony taunting me. ‘Ask him why he chose you? Ask him why he is in your life?’ Of course, it all makes perfect sense now. When he met me at the exhibition he was casing Lana Barrington’s jewelry. I remember that night with incredible clarity. That’s what they were doing. Now I understood why he was so curious about Lana in the beginning.

And I was the idiot in the middle who led him to the crown jewels. I took him to Blake’s house. I made it easy. I try to remember, did he pause to look at the alarm by the door? Of course, he had always been curious about Lana. My breaths come in uneven gasps. Sorrow like I have never experienced, never imagined existed, hits me in the gut. I’m going to fucking cry.

‘I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later,’ I choke out.

‘Billie, I’m coming over,’ Lana says.

‘All right, come over.’

The line goes dead and I feel my eyes begin to fill with unshed tears. He used me. It was all a lie. All of it.

Suddenly I feel faint. Helplessness surges into me. I want to howl with anguish and horror, but I can barely whisper. I hold back the angry tears, but my throat starts squeezing and my eyes simmer painfully. Shit. I’m gonna cry. I do my best to blink them away but one or two start sliding down my cheeks. I see the expression in his eyes change. Pity? Fuck him. I’m not having anyone feel sorry for me. I force myself to sit down and show that I am calm. But my heart is as cold as a stone in winter.

‘Oh my God, Oh my God,’ I repeat as the tears flow down my cheeks.

I have never been in such a situation before. Always it is Lana who is in trouble or who requires a shoulder to cry on. I am the strong one. When she comes through the door I am shocked to see the change in her. Like a different person. She wraps me within her slim arms and holds me for a long time. And for all that time I simply stand and absorb the love that pours out of her.

My chin trembles and I try very, very hard to get myself back in control. And in the end I do. And she must have felt it. With her hand still around me, she guides me to the couch. I sink down. It is a relief to sit. To have her take charge.

The first thing she says surprises me.

‘I don’t care if it was him, I’m not pressing charges.’

I stare at her dumb-founded.

‘Blake is going to talk to Ebony and get some facts. Do you know where Jaron is now?’

I shake my head. I feel such a fool. I’ve been so stupid. So blind.

‘Don’t worry, Blake’s people will find him.’

I nod and then I look her in the eye. ‘I knew he was a jewel thief. And I didn’t care. He was stealing from the super rich. He was like a Robin Hood.’ My voice breaks on a sob. Listen to me. I sound like a total idiot. Robin Hood. He used me to steal from my friend. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry he stole from you. I’m sorry I brought him to your house.’

‘Oh, Bill! Please don’t be sorry. I would have given you those jewels if I thought you wanted them. They are not important to me. You are.’ She pauses for a moment. ‘And Jaron. Jaron is important to me too.’

‘What do you mean? He lied to me and abused your trust and friendship.’

She shrugs. ‘I liked him from the first moment I met him, but I always had reservations about Ebony. So I’m not going to believe the worst of him until he has had a chance to explain.’

I look at her, shocked that she wouldn’t give up on Jaron. At her refusal to judge him. Her phone rings and she takes it out of her bag and looks at it. ‘Let me take this call. It’s Blake.’

‘Hi, darling,’ she says into the phone and then starts listening. For some minutes she listens. Then she rings off and turns to me.

‘This is what Ebony is claiming. Most of the heists are executed by Jaron alone, and once or twice she has been involved, but this time they connected with some low-level Mafia and it went wrong.’

‘Yes, he did tell me that he mostly works alone.’

She frowns. ‘After all these years why would he contact the Mafia this time around then?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Something doesn’t feel right.’

I feel too exhausted and miserable and angry to answer. The shock is dissipating and in its place is a burning ball of anger. I don’t feel forgiving or loving or like I don’t want to judge him. Jaron Fucking Rose is a bastard!