Authors: Kerry Connor
“What’s wrong?”
“I missed you. You didn’t tell me you were going out for
the day.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting to be gone so long.”
“You should be. All I could think about all day was you. Where
could
Charlie
be? What could
Charlie
be doing? What is
Charlie
up to?”
It was the little emphasis she threw on the name that told him.
She knew.
Something inside of him crumbled into tiny pieces.
It was over.
“Jess—”
She shook her head, her eyes never moving from his face. “Charlie,
Charlie, Charlie—”
“Don’t.”
“Why not? It’s your name, isn’t it?”
“You know it’s not.”
“Ah. I guess I’m just not as good at these games as you
are.”
“Jess...”
“Yes, that’s my name. Now why don’t you try telling
me yours?”
“Caleb.”
She flinched, physically recoiling from the sound of his name. It
hurt like a physical blow. He’d answered without hesitating.
Even though she’d asked the question, he’d caught her by
surprise.
“Wow,” she breathed. “I thought that would be
harder. I thought—”
“That I would lie?”
“It wouldn’t be first time.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” he agreed, knowing it was no
more than he deserved. “I don’t know how much you know—”
“You don’t look like a Caleb,” she interrupted.
“Caleb’s a good wholesome name. Biblical, isn’t it?
But there was never anything wholesome about you. Charlie was a good
choice. Although you didn’t choose it, did you? It just
happened to be the name of Felicity’s friend in the
guesthouse.”
This was her show. All he could do was agree. “Yes.”
“Tell me something,
Caleb
. Was any of it true? Any damn
thing you told me this week?”
“The story about my parents. That was real.”
“Is there any reason I should believe you?”
“Probably not, but it’s the truth.”
“I don’t think you know what the truth is.”
“The truth is, I messed up.”
She snorted. “Well, obviously.”
“I made a mistake.”
“More than one, I’d say. Starting with paying the real
Charlie to vacate the premises and lying to me about who you were.”
She leapt to her feet so suddenly he took a step back. “Why,
Caleb? What was the point of all this? Is this how you get your
kicks? Is this how you get off?”
“Trevor Hastings.”
That stopped her short. She gaped at him for a long moment. Then,
seeming to realize her mouth was open, she slammed it shut.
Understanding dawned in her eyes.
“Is this about that damn emerald?”
“Yes.”
Her face turned so red for a second he thought she was going to
scream. “I don’t know where it is. I never did. I wish
I’d never heard of it, or Trevor.”
“I know that. Now. I didn’t then.”
“Well, that makes everything all right then.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You haven’t said a lot of things, and everything you did
was a load of crap. Who are you?”
“I’m a recovery agent. The company that insured the gem
hired me to do everything in my power to get it back.”
“Boy, when you say
everything
, you really mean it, don’t
you?”
“I might have come here for the emerald, but that’s not
why I slept with you.”
“Of course not. You did that because I was willing and you
wanted to get laid.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Don’t tell me what it was like. I was there. I lived
every moment of it, and now that I know the truth about you, you come
across even more like a manipulative creep.”
“You have every right to be mad—”
“
Thank you
,” she spat. “Thank you for
telling me how I’m allowed to feel. That’s very generous
of you. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were pretty
generous in bed too.”
“If you’ll just let me explain—”
“What is there to explain? Do you really expect me to care
about your reasons?”
“I know you do. You wouldn’t be so upset if you didn’t.”
“I’m upset because you’ve been lying to me from the
second I got here. I’m upset because I shared the most private
side of myself with you when I don’t know a damned thing about
who the hell you are.”
“Yes, you do. Not everything was a lie. Most of it wasn’t.”
“But too damn much of it was.”
He sighed. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
“Sorry you got caught.”
“Sorry that I hurt you. I never wanted that.”
“What did you expect to happen? Did you think you would tell me
the truth and I would be so grateful for all the sex that I wouldn’t
care? Or were you going to tell me at all?”
“I was. I spent all day trying to figure out how to do that.”
“Am I really supposed to believe that? Or are you just playing
nice hoping that we’ll patch things up and I’ll tell you
where the emerald is?”
“I know you weren’t involved. I believe you.”
“A liar believes me. That’s reassuring.”
“I already reported to my superior that I think you’re
innocent.”
“Great. Now if you can only convince Interpol and the Brazilian
authorities, I’ll be all set.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She shook her head. “I really don’t know whether to
believe you or not. Scratch that. I really don’t know why I’m
standing here listening to you at all. I’m out of here.”
Caleb opened his mouth, but it was another voice that rang through
the room, shocking them both.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”
They both spun toward the other entryway that led down the hall to
the kitchen. A dark-haired man stood there, watching them with a coy
little smile on his lips. A chill of warning slid down Caleb’s
spine.
Jess displayed none of his trepidation. She threw her hands up.
“Well, look who it is. The real Charlie. Displaying his usual
sense of perfect timing.”
The man smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”
“How’d you get back in the house anyway?”
“Oh, I never left. I was waiting in one of the spare rooms
upstairs. I couldn’t miss the show, could it?” He stepped
forward.
And pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket.
Everyone froze. Jess’s mouth formed a round O of shock.
She still managed to speak. “What the hell are you doing?”
Keeping his eyes on the man in the entryway, Caleb tried to keep his
voice as even as possible. No mean feat. “Jess—”
“What?”
“That’s not Charlie.”
It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. Jess jerked her head
from one Charlie to the next and back again. The man with the gun had
a bemused expression on his face. The man a few feet away, her
Charlie, was watching the other with wary eyes.
They were both Charlie.
Neither of them was Charlie.
As if things hadn’t been absurd enough. She felt like she’d
wandered into a Monty Python sketch.
Finally all she could do was shake her head in disgust.
“Okay, maybe one of you can answer something for me. Does
Charlie really exist? Is he an actual person, or just a pseudonym
every psycho under the sun assumes at will?”
The newcomer was the one who responded. “There certainly is a
Charlie Wells. I had an interesting conversation with him yesterday
evening when he explained his arrangement with our mutual friend Mr.
Carpenter.”
She jerked her gaze between the two of them. The stranger—fake
Charlie #2—appeared supremely amused by the situation.
Charlie—
Caleb
, she corrected with a wince—had gone
stone-faced, his icy stare never wavering from the new arrival.
“How do you two know each other?” she asked. There was no
point asking if they did since it was obvious that was the case.
“Carpenter stole something from me some time ago,” the
stranger said.
“Only after you stole it from the rightful owners,” Caleb
spit back.
He shrugged. “So we’re both thieves.”
“No. You’re a criminal. I’m not.”
“Really? Maybe we should ask Miss Harper about that.” He
swung his gaze to Jess. He had the same face as the man she’d
met that morning, but there was no trace of the nervousness or
stupidity she’d seen in his eyes then. She had no doubt that
the man she saw in front of her now was who he really was. The other
had merely been an assumed persona.
And she’d thought
Charlie
was a good actor.
“How about it, Miss Harper?” the stranger asked in a
wheedling tone. “Do you think old Cal’s a criminal? After
the way he lied to you. After the way he seduced you to get the
information he wanted. It’s not the first time he’s done
it, you know. It’s what he does for a living. He seduces women
to get them to reveal their secrets.”
She knew she shouldn’t take anything this man took to heart.
For whatever reason, he was taking perverse pleasure in twisting the
knife. But hearing him confirm what she’d suspected only made
it worse.
“Shut up, Thomason!” Caleb took a step forward.
The stranger halted the forward movement by aiming the gun flat at
Caleb’s chest. “Back off, Carpenter. I’m talking to
the lady.”
She could almost see the physical effort it took Caleb not to advance
on the man. When the gunman saw that he wasn’t going to move,
he turned his attention back to Jess.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her jaw clenched. “None
of that explains why you walked in here with that gun aimed at me.”
“Because lately, you’ve been even more of a problem than
old Cal,” the stranger said. “I’m honestly not sure
who to shoot first.”
“I vote for yourself,” Caleb muttered.
“Ah, Carpenter. A smartass to the very end.”
“Sorry to interrupt your pissing contest, but who the hell are
you?” Jess demanded.
“His name’s Ian Thomason,” Caleb supplied. “He’s
a thief, suspected in a number of heists, though nothing recent has
been proven. My guess would be he was your friend Hastings’s
partner.”
Jess stared at the other man. “But why would you tell me you
were Charlie?”
“For kicks,” he tossed back blandly. “When I
figured out what Carpenter was up to, I couldn’t resist. I have
to admit, the show wasn’t everything I was hoping for. I
thought you’d at least punch him in the face. I’m a
little disappointed.”
He said the words as though they were nothing, as though inflicting
such severe emotional pain and then standing back to watch the
carnage was little more than an idle amusement for him. White-hot
anger rushed through her, boiling in her blood.
And she’d thought she was furious at Charlie.
“You son of a bitch.”
His smile only deepened at that. The mask of good humor slipped away,
replaced by something far more frightening. The gleam in his eye was
practically feral.
“Oh, Ms. Harper. You have no idea.”
“Enough, Thomason,” Caleb said. “You didn’t
come all the way here for that. So why are you here?”
“I’m here for the emerald.”
Jess could have screamed. “For the last time, I don’t
have the damned thing!”
Thomason reacted to the outburst with nothing more than benign
amusement. “I didn’t say you did. But I do think you know
where it is.”
“I don’t. I really don’t have any idea.”
“What is the old bird’s head?”
The words caught her completely off-guard. “What?”
“Those were Hastings’ last words. He said I’d never
get close enough to the old bird’s head.”
“His ‘last words,’” she echoed. “You
killed him.”
“He shouldn’t have tried to keep what was mine from me.
You should consider that lesson.”
“‘What was yours?’ He’s the one who stole
it.”
“I supplied him with the security plans to the da Silvas’
home.”
“The outdated plans that got him shot? I’m not surprised
he didn’t want to give you a damn thing.”
“And you see how well that turned out for him.” He calmly
turned the gun toward her. “Tell me about the bird’s
head. I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last year.
Finally I figured if anyone would know it would be you.”
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your problem. And even if I did know, why would I
tell you anything?”
“If you don’t, I’ll shoot you.”
“Give me a break. You’re going to shoot me anyway.”
He calmly turned the gun back toward Caleb. “All right, then
I’ll shoot him.”
For one traitorous second, a sharp jab of fear pierced her heart.
Damn. She could have hit herself. The man threatened her and she
didn’t feel so much as a twinge. He threatened Charlie and hit
her panic button.
Except Charlie didn’t exist. How many times would she have to
remind herself of that before the remembered it?
She didn’t allow the momentary lapse to show on her expression.
“That probably would have been more convincing before you gave
me reason to hate him.”
He smiled, all teeth. She was reminded of a cobra baring its fangs
before striking. “But you don’t hate him, do you? Even
after all the lies, you still care about him. You still wouldn’t
want him to die.”
“I don’t want anyone to die.”
“Then tell me about the old bird’s head.”
His eyes bored into her. It was all she could do not to fidget under
the force of his glare. His unwavering focus meant he didn’t
notice Caleb inching closer to him, the movement so painfully slow it
was unnoticeable. It wouldn’t be long before he could reach out
and grab it. Still, it was hard to forget that Caleb had a gun aimed
straight at his chest. She weighed her answer carefully, knowing that
anything could set the man off.
“Well?” he ground out, his teeth clenched.
She took a deep breath. She’d given Caleb all the time she
could. Any closer and Thomason would notice he was standing too close
anyway.