shop, the woman put the CLOSED sign up. Cat was about to take the stairs when she had the strangest sensation that she was being watched. Call it years on the job or simple intuition, but she was sure someone was lurking nearby.
The shadow of a palm tree afforded her cover as she took herself out of view. She turned on the video portion of her phone and panned it as steadily as possible as she performed a visual scan of the stairway.
“Catherine, it’s me,” Vincent said, and she stepped away from the palm tree.
“Any luck?”
“The thieves left together in one car. There were tire tracks. I’m sure the police will take prints. And yes , I took pictures of the tracks with my phone.” He grinned at her. “What were you up to? You can take the cop out of New York City…”
“Just making a small purchase.” She rattled her bag. “Which I will now model for you if you’d like.”
He tried to peek in the bag. She gave him a little bat.
“I would like,” he said.
When they got to their room, she put it on. He was about to take it off of her when an expensive bottle of champagne and a large bouquet of roses arrived—Vincent had planned ahead, but it had taken the hotel staff some time to locate their switched room—as well as an elaborate fruit and cheese basket and vouchers for massages, courtesy of the apologetic management. They filled up their two-person in-room whirlpool tub with bubble bath while Vincent popped the cork and Cat arranged a platter of delicacies and placed them within reach of the frothing bubbles.
“They could have at least taken my phone,” Cat said as she slid into the churning water. “It’s practically brand new.”
“We shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Vincent argued. “If they had taken something, we’d probably be making statements to the police instead of drinking champagne and eating strawberries naked.”
“I wonder if any of the other guests who moved are shipmates of ours.” She had already shared the gossip about Mitchell Samosa with him. “What a way to start a vacation, you know? It’s like we’re crime magnets or something.” Cat popped a pineapple chunk into Vincent’s mouth. He chewed appreciatively. “I’m so glad we shipped our bags ahead. What a mess that would have been.”
“Luck’s on our side. For people whose stuff gets manhandled.”
They clinked champagne glasses and luxuriated.
CHAPTER NINE
Anatoly pinched the bridge of his nose hard to keep from launching into a barrage of Russian swear words and screaming at the top of his lungs.
“What do you mean, you didn’t find it?” he said into the phone. “She packed the jacket.” He had a thought. “Was she wearing it?”
“No. We had a tail on them. They had dinner and walked down by the beach. She didn’t have on the jacket.”
“Then it had to be in her room,” he said through clenched teeth. Unless she lost it. Or someone else got to it before we did. Suresh had had another buyer but Anatoly had no idea who “Mr. Q” was. Could it be that this mysterious rival had already tracked down the chip? Did Suresh tell him about the jacket? The pieces didn’t quite fit.
“We tossed her room, and several others to make it look like a random crime of opportunity. The hotel moved them. She went to the gift shop but he stayed in the room. But Anatoly, we looked through everything they had.”
What if she had misplaced it? It was possible, if she was even half as stupid as her sister.
“Check the lost and found of the hotel and the restaurant. Search the beach. Call me back in half an hour.”
He disconnected and phoned Svetlana in New York. It was two a.m. there. Seven a.m. in London, where he was.
“ Da ,” she said sleepily.
“Wake up the girl. Make absolutely certain that her sister packed the jacket. I don’t care what you do to her. Make sure she’s telling you the truth.”
“ Da , Anatoly.” She sounded more awake now. Good girl. Good smart girl.
The shadow of a palm tree afforded her cover as she took herself out of view. She turned on the video portion of her phone and panned it as steadily as possible as she performed a visual scan of the stairway.
“Catherine, it’s me,” Vincent said, and she stepped away from the palm tree.
“Any luck?”
“The thieves left together in one car. There were tire tracks. I’m sure the police will take prints. And yes , I took pictures of the tracks with my phone.” He grinned at her. “What were you up to? You can take the cop out of New York City…”
“Just making a small purchase.” She rattled her bag. “Which I will now model for you if you’d like.”
He tried to peek in the bag. She gave him a little bat.
“I would like,” he said.
When they got to their room, she put it on. He was about to take it off of her when an expensive bottle of champagne and a large bouquet of roses arrived—Vincent had planned ahead, but it had taken the hotel staff some time to locate their switched room—as well as an elaborate fruit and cheese basket and vouchers for massages, courtesy of the apologetic management. They filled up their two-person in-room whirlpool tub with bubble bath while Vincent popped the cork and Cat arranged a platter of delicacies and placed them within reach of the frothing bubbles.
“They could have at least taken my phone,” Cat said as she slid into the churning water. “It’s practically brand new.”
“We shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Vincent argued. “If they had taken something, we’d probably be making statements to the police instead of drinking champagne and eating strawberries naked.”
“I wonder if any of the other guests who moved are shipmates of ours.” She had already shared the gossip about Mitchell Samosa with him. “What a way to start a vacation, you know? It’s like we’re crime magnets or something.” Cat popped a pineapple chunk into Vincent’s mouth. He chewed appreciatively. “I’m so glad we shipped our bags ahead. What a mess that would have been.”
“Luck’s on our side. For people whose stuff gets manhandled.”
They clinked champagne glasses and luxuriated.
CHAPTER NINE
Anatoly pinched the bridge of his nose hard to keep from launching into a barrage of Russian swear words and screaming at the top of his lungs.
“What do you mean, you didn’t find it?” he said into the phone. “She packed the jacket.” He had a thought. “Was she wearing it?”
“No. We had a tail on them. They had dinner and walked down by the beach. She didn’t have on the jacket.”
“Then it had to be in her room,” he said through clenched teeth. Unless she lost it. Or someone else got to it before we did. Suresh had had another buyer but Anatoly had no idea who “Mr. Q” was. Could it be that this mysterious rival had already tracked down the chip? Did Suresh tell him about the jacket? The pieces didn’t quite fit.
“We tossed her room, and several others to make it look like a random crime of opportunity. The hotel moved them. She went to the gift shop but he stayed in the room. But Anatoly, we looked through everything they had.”
What if she had misplaced it? It was possible, if she was even half as stupid as her sister.
“Check the lost and found of the hotel and the restaurant. Search the beach. Call me back in half an hour.”
He disconnected and phoned Svetlana in New York. It was two a.m. there. Seven a.m. in London, where he was.
“ Da ,” she said sleepily.
“Wake up the girl. Make absolutely certain that her sister packed the jacket. I don’t care what you do to her. Make sure she’s telling you the truth.”
“ Da , Anatoly.” She sounded more awake now. Good girl. Good smart girl.
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