When She Was Bad...

“If Butch did try to steal this painting,” Irene said, “he’ll use the same arguments he used forty years ago—that he’s clearly not good enough for me.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Pepper said, hoping against hope that for once in her life, the feeling she had was dead wrong. But with each step she took toward the elevator, the queasiness in her stomach grew stronger. “Besides, he didn’t steal it. You did. So his record is still clean.”

“Right.”

Pepper’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket and her heart sank. It couldn’t be good news. Cole was only supposed to call if there was a problem. She released her grip on Irene and dug out her phone. “Yeah?”

“Atwell and LeBlanc are on their way up. Get out on the balcony and hide until we can get there.”

Not going to happen, Pepper thought as the elevator doors slid open and Evan and Le Blanc stepped out. For a moment they all froze, but Pepper’s mind was racing. The hallway behind her was a dead end. Their only chance was to get to the suite and bolt the door.

She managed one step back before LeBlanc pulled out a gun. “Go back to the suite, ladies. And if you’re thinking of trying something, make no mistake, I’ll kill you.”

COLE FELT A WAVE of cold fear wash over him as he heard LeBlanc’s words.

“LeBlanc’s got them and I think he has a gun.” Even as he relayed the information to his two companions, Cole was making his way out of the cluster of palms. Then he broke into a run. “He’s taking them back to the suite.” He kept the cell phone pressed to his ear, but Pepper didn’t speak again.

By the time he reached the lobby, he’d pushed the swirl of emotions down and managed to get to that cold place that he’d always been able to find when he had his rifle in hand, waiting. H was holding an elevator for them.

“H has a gun,” Butch said as they moved into the waiting car.

“So do I,” Cole said. But he didn’t have what he wanted—a rifle with a telescopic sight. “We can’t rush in. It’s too dangerous. But I think we have a little time. From what my colleague Luke was able to gather, this guy’s a planner. He’s got two hostages, three if he decides to use Atwell, so he’ll take a little time to figure out how to play that to his advantage. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has an escape plan in place. My guess is that he planned to leave the island with the money and the painting.”

“Bold son of a bitch,” Butch muttered.

“We’ll split into two teams,” Cole continued. “Butch and I will come down from the roof the way the women did. H, you and Happy will wait outside the door of the suite until I give a signal. Got that?”

The men nodded, and no one spoke for the rest of the ride. When the elevator door slid open on the top floor, Butch led the way to the roof. The sun beat down, and in the distance, the sea was the color of a turquoise gemstone. They walked together to the ropes that Irene had tied to the pipe.

“Go for a soft landing,” Cole said.

“Got it. You got any plan once we land on the balcony?” Butch picked up one of the ropes and they moved toward the edge of the roof.

“It all depends on what’s going on inside. Those women are both smart, and Pepper can think on her feet.” It helped to remind himself of that.

“I watched some tapes of Irene’s show. She’s pretty inventive.”

Cole met Butch’s eyes as they each threw one leg over the abutment. “One way or another, we’re going to get them out safely.”

Butch nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Together, they lowered themselves hand under hand until they were on the balcony.

The shutters were still closed, but as yet, no one had thought to close the door that Irene and Pepper had left ajar. Cole felt a little trickle of relief as he moved closer and peered through a crack in the slats of the shutter. The interior of the room was dim, and he could hear voices before he could make out exactly where the four people were.

“…understand what’s going on,” Evan Atwell was saying.

“I have to say that some of this puzzles me too,” LeBlanc said. “Would one of you ladies like to explain the body in the entranceway?”

“Another thief,” Pepper said. “The Monet is very popular, Leblanc.”

“Why do you keep calling him LeBlanc?” Evan asked. “His name is Jean Claude Rambeau.”

“His real name is Maurice LeBlanc,” Pepper corrected.

“No,” Evan said. “You’re mistaken. Tell her, Jean Claude.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Evan. She’s right, you see.”

A little sliver of fear worked its way up Cole’s spine as he registered the coolness in LeBlanc’s tone. It told him that the Frenchman was in control and thinking, weighing his options.

“What are you saying?” Evan asked.

“Your ex-girlfriend has ruined everything,” LeBlanc said without emotion. “Now I think we should move farther into the suite until we can sort this all out.”

Cole felt the cold knot in his stomach tighten. LeBlanc might have been inviting friends in for a drink. He studied the scene as the group moved down the stairs into the living room. The two women seated themselves on one of the sofas facing the balcony. Evan took a chair to the left of them and LeBlanc settled on the arm of the sofa to their right. For the moment, neither of the men was thinking about the balcony doors.

But Pepper was. He’d seen the way she’d walked deliberately to that sofa. That meant she was keeping her cool and thinking. She would expect him to come in through the balcony.

The bad news was the Frenchman had a gun pointed directly at Pepper. Even with a rifle, Cole would have had to push the shutters aside first to get off a shot. The noise would have given LeBlanc too much warning.

Cole pulled his revolver out, and did what he was trained to do. He waited.

“I STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND.” Evan ran a hand through his hair. “She hasn’t ruined everything. We still have the painting. Castellano wants it. He’s moved closer to what we’re asking.”

“He’s dragging his heels. But thanks to the ladies, I think we’ve got something that will motivate him.”

Pepper swallowed hard and struggled against the fear that was threatening to numb her. Luke’s description of LeBlanc was swirling around in her mind. Not only a master thief but a sociopath too. As her mind raced, one chilling thought kept rising to the surface. Whatever scenario LeBlanc was hatching to get off the island, he didn’t need three hostages. They would only slow him down.

There was no time to try to figure out how a super sleuth like Veronica Mars would handle this. She had no one to rely on but herself and her aunt. She remembered what Cole had told her about trusting her instincts. Instinct told her she had to keep the two men talking. If she could succeed in rattling one of them into doing something stupid, they might have a chance. She edged her foot slowly sideways until it rested against Irene’s. It was some comfort when her aunt nudged her back.

“What are you talking about? Castellano wants that painting,” Evan said. “If you hadn’t walked out of the meeting, he would have met our price. And you said this morning that the plane is gassed up and waiting.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Pepper said.

“Damn right,” Irene said. “Once Butch finds out that LeBlanc stole the Monet, he won’t buy it.”

“And then there’s the fact that LeBlanc has lied about more than his name,” Pepper added. “He’s a professional con man and a master thief.”

“And he’s a killer,” Irene put in.

Evan stared at them. “You’re lying.”

Pepper shook her head. “Look at him. He isn’t denying it, is he?”

Evan glanced at LeBlanc, but still the man said nothing. Pepper was sure that he was listening with one part of his mind, but in another part, he was planning his escape.

Keep the conversation going, Pepper told herself. Hopefully it would distract him. Turning to Evan, she said, “I understand why LeBlanc wanted to steal the Monet. But I haven’t figured out why you’re helping him. Why in the world did you steal your mother’s painting?”

“Jean Claude and I are in love,” Evan explained. “And we need the money. My mother expects certain things of me. And I can’t give them to her. I’ve never been able to tell her that I’m gay. She’s expecting me to marry properly and produce children to carry on the name. If she knew the truth, it would destroy her. You understand. I know you do.”

Pepper did understand. But while she’d listened to his tale of star-crossed lovers, she’d also been trying to think of something she could do. So far she was drawing a blank, and it was LeBlanc that she needed to get talking.

“The painting will be mine someday anyway,” Evan said. “So it’s not really stealing.”

“That’s what we all say,” Irene muttered under her breath.