When She Was Bad...

“Tell me about it,” Pepper said.

Irene tightened her grip on Pepper’s hand. “What I’ll tell you is don’t let Cole talk himself into thinking that it’s best for you if he backs out of your life.”

Pepper stared at her. “You think he would?”

Irene tapped a finger on the side of her head. “Love and logic don’t mix. But don’t make the same mistake I did. My advice is to take action before you have to steal a damn Monet twice to convince a stupid, stubborn man he’s wrong.”

Pepper threw her arms around her aunt and gave her a hard hug. Irene felt the prick of tears behind her eyes and was about to blink them away when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Drawing back, she flipped it open.

“You’re good to go,” Cole said.

Irene shot her a wink. “Here comes the easy part.”

COLE POCKETED HIS cell phone just as Happy and Butch joined him in the cluster of trees.

“Where’s Irene?” Butch asked.

“You’ll see in a minute,” Cole said, meeting Butch’s cold, hard eyes. “Where are Atwell and the Frenchman?”

Cole wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Butch’s eyes grew harder and colder. “They’re in my office. Where’s Irene? Is she all right? And what in the hell are we doing hiding in these palm trees?”

“First I need your word that you won’t interfere with what Irene’s trying to do. You could put her in danger.”

Butch grabbed the front of Cole’s T-shirt. “I’m tired of this game. I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is she?”

Cole stood his ground. “Your word. Irene’s and Pepper’s lives may depend on it.”

Five seconds ticked by. Neither man blinked. Then Butch said, “I won’t interfere.”

“There she is.” Happy spoke for the first time. Butch and Cole shifted their gaze to where Happy was pointing and watched Irene swing her leg over the edge of the roof.

“What the hell…?” Butch said.

Cole put a hand on his arm when he would have moved.

“You gave your word. I’m going to hold you to it.” It was all he could do to get out the words as he watched Pepper drop her legs over the edge of the roof. She could do this, he told himself.

“What the hell is going on?” Butch asked.

Happy patted his shoulder. “Irene’s stealing a Monet to prove she’s bad enough for you. Isn’t she something?”

“Yeah,” Cole said, never taking his eyes off Pepper.

“Shit,” Butch said.

WITH HER ARMS braced firmly on the narrow ledge of the abutment, Pepper peered over her shoulder. She purposely didn’t let herself look at the ground. She just wanted to judge the distance to the floor of the penthouse balcony. It wasn’t close. And it was much narrower than the one outside Cole’s suite had appeared. Her stomach pitched.

“Big mistake,” Irene said as she tested the rope she’d tied to one of the steel ventilation pipes that dotted the rooftop. “Never look down—rule number one for any good cat burglar.”

Pepper wrenched her gaze away from the balcony and looked at her aunt. “How can you do this?”

“I love Butch. Always have, always will.”

“I didn’t mean that. How can you rappel down from roofs?” She was thinking of the time that she’d gotten stuck on that roof and Cole had come to rescue her.

Irene shrugged and shot her a grin. “I took up rock climbing shortly after my parents made me break up with Butch. It was my feeble shot at being a rebellious teen.”

Pepper smiled at her. “Been there, done that. But I never did anything more dangerous than cut off my hair or learn to play poker. I wish I’d had the nerve to think of rock climbing. It would have come in handy.”

Irene reached over and tested Pepper’s rope. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

In Pepper’s mind, the possible implications were not quite as comforting as she was sure Irene intended them to be.

“Okay. Now, remember that the end of the rope is knotted around your waist. If you make a mistake, you’ll only fall to the end of the rope.”

“Kind of like a bungee cord, only there’s no bounce at the end.”

“Exactly,” Irene said. “You can watch me go first and then I’ll talk you down. Or we can do it together.”

Though she was tempted by the first choice, Pepper knew that they’d save time with the second. “Together.”

Turning her head, she watched her aunt clasp the rope between her two hands and slowly lower herself off the ledge they were both balanced on. Then holding her breath, she did the same. The resulting surge of adrenaline nearly made her dizzy.

“Now, keeping the rope between your legs, you’re going to make sure your toes are touching the wall.”

“Got it,” Pepper said.

“This is the toughest part. You’re going to do three things at once. Let the rope slide a bit between your hands at the same time that you lean back and plant your feet flat on the wall.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Pepper gave it a whirl. But just as she leaned back, her foot slipped, and the next second, she was dangling from the wall and the rope began to slip between her hands. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Irene’s movement as she walked backward down the wall, but her heart was pounding so hard that she couldn’t hear what Irene was saying. All that she knew was the rope was slipping through her hands. Just as her palms began to sting in earnest, her feet landed hard on something and her knees nearly buckled. Glancing down, she saw that she was on the railing of the balcony.

Fear swamped her, and for one long moment she teetered. Then she tightened her grip on the rope and one hard pull had her tumbling forward onto the balcony floor.

A second later, Irene landed beside her and pushed her down until they were out of sight below the railing.

“Excellent,” her aunt said.

Pepper dragged in a much needed breath, and pressed a hand to her chest because she was afraid that her heart was going to pound right out. “Right. My foot slipped.”

“Who cares?” Irene said. “It’s not like we got a bunch of Olympic judges out there deep-sixing us with low technical scores. In second-story work, form always takes a back seat to efficiency, and you beat me down.” Irene patted her on the shoulder. “You did good.”

“Thanks.” It was over, Pepper told herself as she pried her fingers loose from the rope. Rappelling down from a roof was going on her list of never-to-be-repeated experiences.

“Now for the fun part.” Irene rubbed her hands together and turned her attention to the balcony doors.

Pepper was beginning to think that her aunt had a strange idea of fun. But she had to admire Irene’s skill. In less than three minutes, they were inside, and for a moment neither of them moved. The windows were all shuttered to keep out a direct hit from the morning sun, so the interior of the suite was filled with shadows.

Pepper listened hard. The only sound was the steady tick of a clock. As her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, she made out the tall grandfather clock in the corner.

Letting her gaze sweep the rest of the living room, she saw that it was twice the size of the one in Cole’s suite. If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed that she had been transported back in time to the mansion of a rich plantation owner.

The bungalow had been lovely, and Cole’s suite had been luxurious, but neither could compare to this one. The floors were a honey-colored wood dotted with oriental rugs. And in spite of its size, the room seemed filled with overstuffed furniture, painted screens and huge potted plants. There was even a grand piano in the far corner.

“The damn place is huge,” Irene whispered. “And I don’t see the Monet.”

Pepper scanned the walls. She counted six paintings, but none of them was the one they were looking for. Now that she was getting her bearings, she could see that even though it was larger, the suite had the same two levels and general layout as Cole’s. The main entrance was down a short hallway to their left. She pointed to the two doors on the upper level to their right. “Let’s try the bedrooms.”

“C’mon.” Irene led the way. “You take the one on the left.”

Pepper crossed her fingers as she entered the bedroom, but a quick glance around told her that the stolen painting wasn’t hanging on the wall. The bed was neatly made and the closet empty. Clearly, Evan and LeBlanc were using the other bedroom.

Turning away from the closet, she scanned the room again, then turned her attention to the bed. They weren’t sleeping in this room, so perhaps…

She looked beneath the bed, then circled it, lifting the mattress until she was sure the painting wasn’t there either. Fisting her hands on her hips, she looked around the room again. Time was slipping past, and the fact that Irene hadn’t appeared in the doorway told her that her aunt’s search was similarly unsuccessful. She felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach and forced herself to ignore it.