All she knew was that she was being hustled through the store and out the back door.
The alley beside the store had once been an open-air path. It was still a pedestrian passage, but now it was flanked by new buildingsnew as in maybe only fifty or so years oldand boasted sidewalk cafés at both ends.
Move! the third man shouted, hurrying to catch up to them. Someone in there must have set off the alarm. Hear the damned sirens?
Her captor shoved her toward the wall, and all she could do was wonder if they would or wouldnt shoot her in the back.
But before she hit the wall she was grabbed by the third man. Keep herwe may need her, he said, wrenching her around to face him. His eyes were like chips of blue ice. If you
He stopped speaking for a moment, and she saw his eyes widen. Did he know her? she wondered.
He quickly found his tongue again. Were going to run, and you need to do everything I say. If you dont, I will fucking blow a hole right through you. Got it?
Kieran was trying so hard not to shake that she was afraid she wouldnt be able to move. She finally nodded.
Good. Now run. And dont hold me back. Dont trip, dont falter, dont stop for any reason. Your life depends on it.
* * *
The moment Craig brought the car to a screeching halt, double-parking next to a silver Mercedes, he and Mike leaped out. They were already communicating via headsets, ready for whatever they might find inside.
A half dozen uniformed NYPD cops had arrived just ahead of them and were lined up outside the door of Flawless.
Mike produced his badge and said, FBI. Anyone go in yet?
Just got here, one of the cops said.
Well take it easythere could be people in there, Mike said. If two of you will cover me on the left, Ill take the door. Craig, what are you thinking?
Craig had been studying the building and thinking about the best way in.
Space had been at a premium in NYC for decades, if not centuries. Buildings tended to be flush against each other, but there were exceptions. In this instance, there was a café at the end of the block, with tables spilling out on a throughway that led to the back of the building. An old archway suggested another narrow alley at the back of the building that fronted the block, an alley that presumably ran between the buildings that faced one street and those that faced the next.
Going aroundtheres bound to be a back door, he told Mike briefly and pulled his gun.
He didnt wait for a go-ahead or a reply but moved as soon as he was done speaking.
He heard Mikes voice in his ear. Hey, watch what youre doing. You need backup, you say the word.
Im good, no problem yet, he said in return.
He moved as quickly as he could and rounded the corner. He saw that there was an actual archway on the end of the alley, space enough for some outdoor seating for a chain luncheonette.
There were people at the tables.
Move! he shouted, threading his way through them. Move!
What the fuck someone said.
Were moving in, Mike said over Craigs earpiece.
You take care.
I have backup.
Craig swore softly, running into a chair a man had pushed back.
Dickhead! the man said.
Move
You dickhead!
Move. FBI! Craig roared.
The man moved and then someone screamed and everyone got out of his way.
Craig realized then that he was wielding his Glock.
Whats going on, Craig? Mike demanded.
Im running! Craig panted.
He tore down the pedestrian alley as fast as he could move.
As he reached the rear of the jewelry shop he could see that the back door was open.
He heard Mikes voice again in his ear. Im inside. Two people in here, both okay. One is old man Krakowsky. He said they went out the back and they have a hostage.
Im on it, Craig said.
Dammit. The thieves had been thereand they were a step ahead.
He could see people running at the other end of the alley.
Men in black hoodies. And they werent alone.
Mike had been right. They had a hostage. A woman was being dragged along with them.
At least she wasnt dead on the ground in the alley.
Swearing, Craig cranked up his pace.
As the thieves neared the street, he saw that they were heading to a van that was waiting at the end of the alley, a commonplace white van.
The sliding door was open, the driver obviously waiting for his companions to jump in.
One of the thieves drew the woman out of the way as they reached the sidewalk. Another brandished his gun.
People were screaming everywhere. Some were running; others, too startled to move, stood where they were.
Right in the way of the thieves.
And in his minds eye, all Craig could picture was the video of the thieves shooting the manager. And of the dead woman lying in an alley.
Craig, what the hell are you doing? Mike demanded.
Im on them.
Youre on them how? Wait for backup.
I cantIll lose them.
He could hear Mike cursing.
Cant talkrunning! Craig said.
The thief holding the woman turned and sawin the midst of the chaosthat they were being followed. He shoved her into the van and jumped in after her.
Craig practically flew toward the street. The last of the thieves was entering the van, and the door hadnt closed yet. He couldnt fire, though; he could too easily hit the woman or an innocent bystander.
He was going to need both hands, he thought, and shoved his Glock back into the holster nestled into the small of his back. Then he launched himself through the open door.
He pitched headfirst into one of the thieves and heard a cracking soundthe guys head hitting the far wall.
The driver screeched into traffic, rounding the corner onto the avenue and yelling, What the hell...?
His entry had been something like a bowling ball striking the pins at the end of the lane. All three thieves went sprawling. The woman was facedown, and he was somehow entangled with her legs.
Craig, what the hells going on? Mike demanded.
White van going south on Fifth, he said.
The thief hed catapulted into was out cold. That left two more, plus the driver.
He heard a cacophony of shouting in the van. And through his earpiece, he could hear Mike cursing Craig beneath his breath between giving orders to stop every white van on Fifth.
Then Craig saw that one of the men was rising and that he had a gun. Craig reacted, rolling the woman onto her back as he struck out with his left foot. He caught the guy right in the jaw, and he stumbled back awkwardly, then fell flat on his rear.
Craig barely missed getting whacked across the head by the third man. But he ducked in time and head butted the man in the gut.
By then the second man was moving again. He lifted his gun and aimed at Craigs head.
He never got the chance to fire.
Craig was astonishedand incredibly gratefulto see that the woman had not only moved, shed found a tire iron and cracked the thief hard over the head with it. He went down like a brick.
The panel door suddenly slid open. The last of the thieves hopped from the moving vehicle.
The driver suddenly stepped on the gas. Craig looked out the windshield and realized that theyd miraculously hit a clear patch of Fifth Avenue.
Craig knew he couldnt have gone after the thief anyway. The woman was still in the van, and the driver was alive and well.
Now his lead foot on the gas sent both Craig and the woman flying. He landed half on top of the unconscious man shed hit and half on top of her.
For a moment he got a good look at her face. Mid to late twenties, brilliant blue eyes, deep red hair, fine bone structure and porcelain skin.
He got moving again quickly, staggering to the front, pulling the Glock out of its holster as he went, then pressing the muzzle against the drivers head.
Pull over. Now.
Ah, hell, the driver muttered. He added a few colorful expletives, but, as ordered, he pulled over to the side. Craig cuffed him and then went back to cuff the other two, easing their guns out of reach as he did so, swearing inwardly. A takedown wasnt easy when he was stooping over the whole time to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling of the van.
The young woman was getting to her feet at that point, and he realized she was tall enough that she needed to stoop, as well. He met her eyes. They were a stunning crystal blue, almost impossible to look away from.
Thanks, he told her. You saved my life.
I think you saved mine, she said.
Oh, fuck you both, the driver said. No one saved anyone. We dont kill people. Were thieves. We dont even use real guns!
Craig spun around toward him and then bent down to pick up the thieves guns.
It was an incredibly real copy of a Smith & Wesson. And it was made out of plastic.
He grabbed the other weapon off the floor of the van; it, too, was an excellent copy and, like the first, made of plastic.
Where the hell did you get these? Craig demanded.
The driver laughed. Toy store, he said. Check that one out. Its a water pistol.
You idiot. Dont you know that the police would shoot you, whether these were real or not?
Police never should have caught us, the driver said.
Am I hearing this right? Mike demanded over the earpiece.
Craig wasnt sure how Mike could hear anything, frankly. By now sirens were ripping through the air and police cars were surging around them.
He slid open the panel door, holding out a hand with his badge showing. Lower your weapons. FBI. The situation is under control.
He looked back at the driver.
The guy wasnt wearing a ski mask or a hoodie. He looked like any other blue-collar worker in a Yankees beanie and a plaid flannel shirt. He was about thirty-five, Craig estimated. Brown hair, neatly trimmed beard and mustache.
Someones all-around good old boy uncle, perhaps, come to the big city.
Craig realized that he and the woman were no longer in dangernot as far as this crew went. He regretted the fact that he was now certain he had been right.
There was a copycat group working the streets. With real gunsguns that killed.
Hed won the bet with Mike.
He wished that hed lost.
Two groups...
And the one that killed was still out there.
CHAPTER THREE
ALL KIERAN WANTED to do was escape, but getting away wasnt going to be that easy.
The police and the FBI and everyone else who had shown up where the van had stopped needed to speak with her.
At least half of them were convinced that she needed medical attention.
She was somewhat banged up. There werent seats in the vanthe back had been empty except for some tools, including the tire iron shed used on the thief when hed had a gun trained on the FBI agent.
Except that it hadnt been a gun at all; it had been a water pistol. However, she didnt feel quite so foolish, because Mr. FBI hadnt known it was a water pistol, either.
Why the hell did companies make such accurate childrens toys? Were they trying to help raise the next generation of crooks?
She needed to leave. She needed to get back to the pub before Declan started worrying about her.
But instead she was stuck sitting in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket and drinking coffee while desperately trying to convince the police and EMTs and whoever else was there that she was fine and just needed to leave.
Finally one cop told her, Sorry, miss, youre not going anywhere. Youre the best witness weve got against these guys.
But I really need to go to work.
She hadnt seen the agent who had leaped into the van like a fullback since the cops had sounded and he had jumped out again. An officer had helped her out, and then others had entered the van to gather up the thieves, who were now on their way to a police station somewhere to be held for arraignment. Shed overheard the driver, a good old boy with a beard and flannel shirt, inform them that he wasnt talking to anyone until he had a lawyer.
She had turned over all the diamonds to the policeincluding the one her brother had pinched.
She realized that she was now actively afraid of explaining to Declan what she had been doing. She had promised to work that night, and while Daniel might manage for a few hours, he wasnt up to handling the night crowds.
One of the EMTs came over to her. You should really go to the hospital for a checkup, just to make sure youre all right. Sounds like you got pretty shaken up in that van.
I swear, Im fine, Kieran said, putting a little more pressure on the ice pack pressed to her cheek.
Everyone who was in there looks as if theyve been in the ring with Ali, the EMT said. He kept talking, but Kieran didnt hear him. She was too busy being horrified by the reporterswith cameraswho had arrived on the scene.
She had to get out of there.
She slid off her perch. Shed told her story at least three times: once to a nice-looking man in his late thirties wearing a pin-striped suit, once to an officer in uniform and once to an older man with gray hair and a grim face. Theyd said something about statements and the DAs office getting hold of her. Fine. They had her information and they could call her later.
She did not want to appear on the news.
As she slipped around the ambulance, hoping that she could just blend into the crowd, she stopped short. The FBI agent who had literally jumped to her rescue was talking with the man in the pin-striped suit she had spoken with earlier.
The bosses want you to make a statement, Craig, the man in the suit was saying. They want you to say that the jewel thieves have been caught.
Mike, they havent all been caught. These guys didnt kill anybody. Dont you understand? They were running around with toy guns!
Yeah, toys now. How do we know that they werent packing the real thing before? That they werent expecting to be caught sooner rather than later and were determined not to go down for murder?
Mike, why would they think
Because its hit the news, Craig. Two people deadyou didnt think that theyd be able to keep a gag on it long, did you?
Kieran froze where she stood.
Two people were dead?
Killed by the same thieves whod taken her hostage?