What brought you to Dallas? Thats where you work out of, right? Dallas?
I was transferred there.
Why? Was it something you requested, or does the FBI move people around arbitrarily?
It was a mutual decision.
Brennas nose quivered. She sensed a story there. I bet theres a woman involved.
He looked at her sharply. What makes you say that?
Men dont just move halfway across the country for no reason. So, youre running to something or away from something. I doubt its anything work related, since you appear to be conscientious about your job. So it must be a woman.
He gave her a look that said she was out of her tree, but he neither confirmed nor denied.
Okay, I wont pry. Ive never been to Baltimore. Is it nice?
Yeah, its a nice city. Pretty harbor. Nice old row houses. Fancy ballpark.
But not your hometown.
What makes you say that?
Theres no passion in your voice. If youd been born and raised there, youd either love it or hate it.
He took his time responding, but he finally did. St. Louis.
Brenna snapped her fingers. Of course. Youve got a midwestern accent, which to me sounds like no accent at all. I spent four years in Kansas City, at the Art Institute. I should have guessed.
You went to the Kansas City Art Institute? He seemed surprised.
I not only went there, I graduated, she said proudly. It was her one tangible success, her single piece of evidence that she wasnt a complete screwup. Her parents hadnt come to her graduation. They hadnt understood what a big deal it was. They thought art school was insignificant compared to law school or business school.
She and Heath lapsed into another silence, and Brenna flipped through a jewelry magazine shed picked up at one of the stores theyd visited. Suddenly she stopped turning pages. Her heartbeat accelerated. Oh, my God.
What? Heath looked around, his right hand reaching inside his jacket for his gun.
Back down, there, Mr. FBI man. Its not a physical threat. Take a look at this. She turned the magazine around and showed him the ad that had so captured her attention.
Synthetic emeralds by mail?
Not that ad, this one. She tapped impatiently on the one she meant. Big gem-and-bead show. This weekend, right here in New Orleans. If I were wanting to unload some hot jewelry fast, thats where Id do it.
You think Marvin will be there?
Id bet on it. Its one of those shows where anybody with the money for a booth can exhibit anything they want.
Well go, then. The doors open this evening. He paused, regarding her thoughtfully. How come you didnt know about this show before? Youre in the business.
She shrugged. There are so many shows these days I cant keep track. Besides, once I got accepted to the IJC show, I totally forgot about everything else. I needed all the time I had to get ready for New York. I get a ton of jewelry-trade magazines, but I havent cracked one in weeks.
Guess Marvin blew your chances to make a big splash in New York, huh?
She sighed. Ive been thinking about it. If I pull out of the show, theyll probably never invite me to come back. The IJC is run by a bunch of snobscream-of-the-crop designers who want to protect their own positions as top dogs. On the other hand, if I show up with a less-than-stellar collection, theyll also never ask me back.
So theres no way out?
I have to find the stolen jewelry. The more she talked, the more depressed she felt about her situation. Lets keep working the stores. Somebody, somewhere in this town knows Marvin.
HEATH DIDNT KNOW what to think about Brenna. Her parents hadnt mentioned anything about a degree from the Kansas City Art Institute, and it hadnt shown up on a background check. That was a pretty decent school. The way the elder Thompsons had presented Brenna, shed sounded like a dabbler, a hobbyist. But she didnt strike him as that way now.
Then again, what did he know about the jewelry trade?
Fueled by caffeine and sugar, Heath and Brenna visited several more jewelers. But Brennas enthusiasm waned as afternoon wore into evening. No one recognized Marvin, and there was no sign of the stolen loot.
Are you ready to go back to your hotel? Heath asked.
Yeah. My feet are killing me. Where are you staying? Somewhere fancy? Our tax dollars at work?
Actually, Im in the room next door to yours. But he would probably spend most of the night in his car, alternating shifts with Grifwho was, speak of the devil, sitting down at a table uncomfortably close, his ubiquitous newspaper in hand. Brennas back was to Grif, so he grinned and waved at Heath.
Heath suppressed his urge to grin back. Grif was a good guy, fresh out of the academy and still having fun with the job. Heath sighed quietly, remembering when he was like that.
Gee, and I was going to offer to let you sleep in Sonyas bed, Brenna said breezily. Without Sonya, I mean. Since shes gone. We could have split the cost of the room.
Heaths breath caught in his throat. Share a room with Brenna? Oh, yeah, that would be a smart move.
Why would you offer me a place to sleep? I thought you didnt like me.
She batted her eyelashes in that flirty way she had that was starting to drive him crazy. Well, I would like to know whether you wear that tie to bed.
He knew she was flirting to throw him off balance. He clearly wasnt her type. Her father had said she usually dated long-haired artistic hippie types.
I dont think the Bureau would go for me sharing a room with awith a crime victim and potential witness. Damn, hed almost used the word suspect.
Probably just as well you have your own room. She grinned. Staying with me, youd be overwhelmed by my potent sexuality.
She probably had no idea how close to the truth she was.
BRENNA STOPPED OFF at her room to change clothes. The weather in Cottonwood, Texas, had been briskly cool when she and Sonya had taken off last night, but it had degenerated into a muggy eighty degrees in southern Louisiana, unusually warm for November even in New Orleans. Her tank top was damp. She thought about taking a shower, then decided she was too hungry. Shed been ravenous the past few days, even for her.
Heath had suggested she go incognito to the jewelry show, in case Marvin was actually there. The last thing they wanted to do was spook him. She didnt really think Marvin would be dumb enough to show his face at such a public event when he knew he was wanted. He would con someone elseperhaps Miss FrenchQuarterChicto sell his stuff. Still, after donning a black denim miniskirt and a purple crop top, she tucked her frosted hair into a baseball cap and put on a pair of nonprescription glasses with pale purple lenses, which she sometimes used as eye protection when working with her jewelry. She slid her feet into a pair of platform sandals and freshened her strawberry lip gloss, then left the room.
Heath was waiting for her. Still in his suit. She thought his eyes shone with a strange light when he first looked at her, but then it disappearedif it was ever there.
Oh, you look real unobtrusive, she said. Only maybe four out of five people would guess you were a cop in the first thirty seconds.
He arched one eyebrow at her. And I suppose you dressed to blend in? Good Lord, have you never heard of a neutral color?
I dont own neutral colors. And Ive never been the kind to blend. You dont think the hat and glasses are enough? As long as Marvin doesnt get a close look at me, I should be fine.
Heath looked doubtful about that, but he didnt make her change. They set out toward the New Orleans Convention Center, which was on the river just west of the French Quarter and fortunately only a few blocks from their guest house.
Where should we go for dinner? Brenna asked brightly.
Youre hungry again?
Those beignets were mostly air. Anyway, you must be starving. Hey, how about that place? She pointed to a dimly lit bar with a corner doorway that looked as if it hadnt changed for fifty years. Smoky jazz filtered out into the street.
Big Daddys Oyster Bar?
It looks like the sort of place thats not written up in the tourist guides.
Theres probably a reason its not written up, Heath said dubiously.
Come on, wheres your sense of adventure? This place is just overflowing with local color.
They entered the dark, smoky bar, which listed every kind of oyster dish imaginable on a chalkboard menu as well as boiled crawfish, fried catfish and a bunch of dishes Brenna didnt even recognize.
Just have a seat any ol place, the bartender yelled at them. He was an enormous man with a huge belly who could easily have been Big Daddy. Cheriell be around to get your order.
Brenna led the way to a cozy booth in a corner, where they had a view of the street as darkness fell. A blues trio played in the back, the smoky strains of bass and guitar wafting through the bar, just loud enough that they could still converse easily.
A beautiful woman with toffee-colored skin and a dress short enough to get her arrested sauntered up to their table. Her hair was done up in an elaborate style that resembled a pineapple. Whatll it be?
Ill have the oyster variety platter and a cold Becks, if you have one, Brenna said decisively.
The waitress looked at Heath. She licked her lips unconsciously. How about you, Mr. Cop?
Heath looked startled, but Brenna just laughed. Told ya.
Ill have the étouffée and a Pepsi.
Brenna snorted. Pepsi?
Cant drink on the job, huh? the waitress said. You must not be a New Orleans cop, then. She sauntered away, hips swaying.
You really know how to have fun, Brenna grumbled.
HER COMMENT shouldnt have stung, but it did. Heath used to know how to have fun. He used to have a reputation as laid-back, always ready with a smart comment. Hed shared a great relationship with his fellow agents back in Baltimore. Theyd played together in a summer softball league, invited each other over for backyard barbecues.
Hed never been a renegade, exactly, but he hadnt been as worried about the rules as he was now. Hed been the guy people could count on, the one everyone wanted guarding their backs. Hed had a solid reputation for being cool under pressure and closing cases others had given up on.
That was BCA. Before Christines Arrest.
Now it felt like he was constantly walking on a fragile spiderweb. One false move, and he would break through and plunge into the abyss, or wherever it was that ex-FBI agents went. That, or he would become hopelessly entangled.
Hed made up his mind as soon as hed learned that his transfer to Dallas was going throughhe wasnt going to make that false move. His image at the Bureau was in tatters, and there was only one way to rebuild it, and that was one brick at a time. One arrest, then another. One case solved, then another, and no controversy.
Brenna Thompson was walking controversy. Her irreverence appealed to the old Heath, but that was someone he could no longer afford to be.
He should arrest her and be done with it, he thought for the zillionth time since hed met her. But that would be too easy. He needed Brenna, Marvin and the Picasso.
He had no illusions about what would happen tonight. Brenna wasnt about to knowingly lead him to her accomplice. But she might be planning to make contact, to get a message to Marvin somehow. Heath would be there when she did.
Grif strolled past the restaurants window for the third time and paused to study the menu posted near the door. The guy was not exactly subtle. Brenna was very observant, and she was going to spot him if he wasnt more careful.
The food arrived, along with Brennas beer in a frosty mug. Heaths mouth watered. He loved a cold beer as much as the next guy, and it sure would go down good with the spicy shrimp-and-rice dish in front of him. But he could not afford to muddle his thinking or take the edge off his reflexes, even for a moment.
The oyster platter, on the other hand, didnt tempt him in the slightest. He had to look away as Brenna slid the raw ones into her mouth and practically swallowed them whole.
Theyre aphrodisiacs, you know, she said lightly.
Thats an old-wives tale.
Care to test it out? Theres plenty here to share.
Ill stick to my own meal, thanks. It was pretty good, he had to admit, though his experience with Cajun cuisine was somewhat limited. As for Brennas flirtation, he didnt take it seriously. Anyway, I dont need oysters. The words popped out, seemingly of their own accord. He saw hed at least surprised Brenna, if not shocked her. Hed shocked himself, though he tried real hard not to show it. What had made him say something like that?
How about the truth? All right, so the little blond thief made him hot and bothered like no woman had since hed outgrown watching the Playboy Channel. That didnt mean he had to act on it. He would just keep his lips zipped from now onand his pants zipped forever as far as she was concerned.
Brenna polished off her oysters. He wasnt surprised when she wanted dessert. She ordered bread pudding with two spoons and insisted he try a bite. It did smell pretty good, so he dished a little bit onto his spoon, topped off with a smidge of whipped cream and tasted it.
It was heaven, a heady concoction drowning in butter, brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg, studded with pecans and topped with a brandy rum sauce. One bite enveloped all of his senses at once. He was even aware of the sound of Brenna licking her lips.
Too sweet, right? she said.
Not this time. He took another bite, then another. Oh, he could get addicted to this in a hurry. Well, hell, this was one sin he could commit without worrying about what Ketcher would think.
By the time they left Big Daddys Oyster Bar, Heath wished hed been a bit more circumspect. If he had to suddenly chase a suspect, he wouldnt be able to run half a block.
It was a few more blocks to the convention center, right on the Mississippi River, and Heath was glad for the walk. Once they entered the modern building, crowded with tourists, he felt more at home. Here there were several men in suits. They looked like they might be gem dealers. No one gave him a second look.
Brenna, however, always got a second and sometimes a third or fourth look. Aw, hell, shed stand out even if she wore a nuns habit. It wasnt how she looked so much as the energy she gave off. She was pure charisma in a pint-size package.
Youre looking forward to this, he observed as they took the elevator up to the third-floor exhibit hall.