“Lloyd’s of London sent you a pile of stuff. And there’s one here from Viper-unless you know anyone else who signs their notes,
She scanned Viper’s fax quickly. “The supercomputer came up with a catalog called ‘Undiscovered Masterpieces of the Great Artists,’ published last year. All the paintings stolen so far have been in it.”
Jeff gaped. “No kidding?”
She passed him the paper. “Vanessa says she’s contacted someone who’s going to send a copy of the catalog to her. She’ll scan it and send us the file as soon as she gets it.”
He nodded slowly. “The Ghost’s employer isn’t an art connoisseur if he’s using a catalog to identify what constitutes great art. Which means any rich bastard in the world could be our guy. I was really hoping a sophisticated trend would emerge in the collector’s taste. It would narrow the suspect list considerably.”
His logic sounded on target. Which meant they couldn’t go through the Ghost’s client to get at the thief. They’d have to catch the guy directly.
Jeff was flipping through the second sheaf of papers, the ones from Lloyd’s. “If we can get a hold of that catalog, we can check it against this list of insured art on the island and see if any more of the paintings in it are here in Barbados. Your friend Michael didn’t only send us Lloyd’s list of insured art, here. It looks like his buddies at Lloyd’s called all the other major insurers of art worldwide and compiled their lists of insured pieces in Barbados, too.”
“Gotta love that British efficiency.”
He grinned. “Yeah. And friends in high places.”
“Amen. So. With that list in hand, do you think we can predict the next piece the Ghost might go after?”
“It’s worth a shot.”
Kat’s PDA beeped distinctively on her nightstand. “That’s the incoming e-mail signal. Maybe that’s the catalog now.” She dashed into the bedroom to check. “Yup, it’s the file.” Jeff hurried after her, and they huddled over the handheld device as the pages of the catalog scrolled across its tiny screen.
She was
She mumbled, “Mind if I jump in the shower while you compare this catalog to the list of pieces here on the island?”
Such was Jeff’s concentration on the incoming file that he barely acknowledged her as she slipped out of the room. Or maybe he was just covering up being as flustered as she was. She hoped the latter was the case.
When she stepped out of the bathroom a half hour later, wearing form-fitting white yoga pants and a matching tank top, lotioned, powdered, perfumed and primped within an inch of her life, Jeff looked up from the papers…and stopped cold.
“Wow. You look fantastic.”
She smiled even as she mentally shook her head at her absurdly pleased reaction to the compliment. She had to admit, having him around did wonders for her ego. “Any matches?”
“Yes. Several. What say for our third date we stake out a ghost? I’ll even throw in a picnic.”
Another date. Complete with the close quarters and adrenaline rush of a stakeout? And food, no less? How could a girl say no to that? Her mouth curved up into a smile. “I had no idea that running a Special Ops mission could be so civilized. We Medusas have obviously been doing it all wrong.”
“Obviously.” His dimples flashed and her knees went weak on cue. “Stick with me, babe. I’ll show you the ropes.”
“Or maybe I’ll show you how it’s done, big guy.”
His dancing gaze met hers. “We haven’t even begun to have fun yet, darlin’.”
Chapter 9
From the catalog, Jeff picked out the likeliest painting of the three that were still left to steal here in Barbados, and he and Kat obtained grudging permission from Detective D’Abeau to stake it out. But after Kat had advanced a plausible “theory” of how the Ghost had gained entrance to the Valliard estate, the cop had owed her one. Not to mention that she’d flirted with him some more. The memory of her casting come-hither looks at that cop continued to set Jeff’s teeth on edge. It might be just business, but he still didn’t like it.
Kat’s buddy in London had sent them the house layouts and security plans of the likely target, along with a note that of the three properties they’d identified as being probable targets, this one had the least extensive security system. If the Ghost was going to strike again, Jeff was betting they’d pegged his next mark correctly.
He and Kat spent all afternoon poring over the house plans and wiring diagrams, planning how they’d rob the place if they were the Ghost. Anticipation at the idea of nabbing the bastard made Jeff edgy. His tension had nothing to do with the mesmerizing woman leaning over the drawings across from him, giving him tantalizingly incomplete glimpses down her shirt of small but perfect breasts that his hands itched to touch and his mouth itched to taste. He was a cad to look, but his gaze broke completely out of his control every time she leaned across the table just so.
This mansion, a sprawling one-story affair unoriginally called Shangri-La, had copious security measures inside the house as well as out. Kat suggested several outrageous methods of bypassing the system…things even an acrobat of her caliber would surely not be able to pull off.
But when he challenged her on it, she casually claimed she could do everything she was suggesting. And somehow, he believed her. He’d about passed out when she took off down that railing last night. She’d looked like a circus performer running along a tightrope. He’d never met another operator who could do some of the things she could. And damn if his imagination didn’t keep straying to adventurous things he’d love to try with her in bed that took advantage of her athleticism and flexibility.
After hours of brainstorming together, they arrived at the conclusion that the Ghost would have to disable the entire security system, or simply set it off and move in fast to make the hit and leave before the police arrived. And, frankly, if there was a way to turn off the security system and not have the police know about it instantly, the two of them couldn’t find it.
Which was outstanding news for them. If the Ghost were operating in a two- or three-minute window to get in and get out, they reasoned he’d have to eschew fancy circus maneuvers and just make a fast grab at the painting in question. Which also meant they stood a decent chance of nabbing the guy.
Jeff was exultant. Finally, the setup he’d been waiting for to move in and catch this bastard.
Ideally, they’d be inside the mansion for this stakeout, but the Bajan police didn’t trust them that much, flirting or no. And frankly, neither he nor Kat wanted the exposure to suspicion if something went wrong and the Ghost got away. In that event, they’d be left as the only people known to have been inside the house when the painting went missing.
The painting was one of Turner’s smaller landscapes, a brilliant piece. If Jeff were an art collector with ten million bucks burning a hole in his pocket, he’d snap it up in a heartbeat. The art catalog Viper had sent them raved about the piece, claiming it was one of the finest privately owned landscapes in the world. Oh yeah. Their greedy collector wouldn’t be able to resist this tasty morsel.
Jeff retired to take a nap before the night’s festivities began. He slept restlessly, dreaming of dark eyes and ivory skin and silky black hair falling down around him. That girl was a fever in his blood. He thought about her constantly, and none of his thoughts were platonic in nature. How in hell he was going to keep his hands off her for days or weeks to come, he hadn’t the faintest idea. And he suspected this torturous itch would get a whole lot worse before it got better. He wanted her worse than any woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
When he finally got up and went out into the living room, he was startled by the sight that greeted him. Kat had pushed all the furniture back to the walls, and was in the midst of performing a complex and insanely difficult martial arts routine. Oh, Lord. And now he had these images to add to his fantasies of her. The thought of what
