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  Shiny Things

  Book 1 Gretel Koch Jewel Thief

  Samantha Price

  Copyright © 2019 by Samantha Price

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  About Samantha Price

  Chapter 1

  In the silence of the dark mansion, Gretel Koch slowly approached the safe. Once she reached it, she lowered herself to her knees and flicked on the flashlight strapped to her forehead.

  She studied the flat base inside and saw the screws she knew would be there. This safe had a secret compartment and if the robbers from the night before had missed it, she’d be the owner of some iconic and rare jewels. If she was wrong, she’d just risked everything for nothing.

  Gretel reached into her knapsack and pulled out the automatic screwdriver and undid the single screw in each corner. Then with a bent nail, she pulled on the base and it moved.

  Second obstacle overcome.

  The first one had been getting into the house, but tonight that was made easier by knowing the owner wasn’t due back until the next day.

  When the base of the safe was removed, she turned her attention to what was hidden. She couldn’t believe what she saw by her flashlight.

  It was empty.

  Completely.

  Nothing.

  It made no sense. Why have a secret compartment in the safe if they didn’t use it? The police had never mentioned the secret compartment so she knew they didn’t know it was there.

  That only meant one thing. The jewels had been taken out before Mr. Welch had been killed. His murder was an inside job. Welch wasn’t shot while disturbing intruders. He’d been murdered and the robbery staged.

  Lights outside distracted her. Immediately, she flicked off her flashlight and ran to the window to see a car. When the car door opened, she saw Mrs. Welch home, ahead of schedule. Then a man got out of the car and followed her to the house.

  Gretel watched in the darkness. Surely the woman wouldn’t cross the tape. Surely she would turn around and stay in a hotel for the night. The police would’ve told her the situation. When Gretel heard the door open and muffled voices coming from downstairs, she was shocked.

  Suddenly the house lit up like a beacon, inside and out.

  There was no time to waste.

  She had to leave. As quietly as she could, she closed the heavy door and after she spun the dial, she noticed the shelf and the screws.

  This wasn’t like her. She was panicking.

  Calm down.

  She placed the shelf along with the screws between the wall and the safe, out of sight. Then she raced to one of the bedrooms that lined the back of the house intending to climb out the window and make her way down the sandstone blocks that made up the facade of the house.

  The first door she tried was locked. Moving onto the next one, it too was locked. There was no time to pick a lock. She couldn’t believe her misfortune when she found the third and last bedroom on that side of the house was locked too.

  Then she remembered the servants’ stairway that led to the kitchen. She raced to the corner and ran carefully down the narrow stairs.

  When she arrived in the kitchen, she heard footsteps. She froze. Would she make it to the back door without being seen? There wasn’t enough time.

  She spied a butler’s pantry adjoining the kitchen and slipped into it, closing the door behind her.

  “Check the house,” she heard Mrs. Welch command. “Every inch of it.”

  “I’m on it. You wait right here,” the man replied, his voice distinctively raspy-sounding.

  How did Mrs. Welch know someone was in the house? Gretel realized that it was the security system. She’d had it disarmed. Mrs. Welch would’ve seen the light off. Systems like the Welches' weren’t overly complicated despite what treasures they had. It was surprising they hadn’t been hit earlier, if indeed this last one had been a genuine hit.

  Gretel closed her eyes tightly. Leave. Please leave.

  Where was that nightly patrol car? It was bad timing since the car had just done its drive past. It was supposed to be driving past the house at regular intervals, but that meant it wouldn’t be back for ages. Even Mrs. Welch wasn’t allowed back in her home yet.

  Lowering herself to the floor, the bitter regret of coming back to the house stung through her body. She’d been wrong. No crime was perfect. The risk of being caught was always a lingering threat looming overhead like an angry cloud.

  With her sleeve, she wiped the sweat that dripped from her forehead.

  In her mind, she’d had nothing to lose and everything to gain by coming back here tonight. She’d been too sure of herself. It had promised to be so easy when she’d played it out in her mind. Why hadn’t she resisted the temptation?

  If she was sent back to prison, it’d be as good as a death sentence since she’d double-crossed those girls to suit her own ends. The haunting images of all the prison inmates flashed through her mind.

  When she heard footsteps on the stone kitchen floor, she knew it was the end. Would she be killed in this house, and die here just like Glen Welch? She backed further into the corner, but there was no place to hide. Feeling her heartbeats throbbing inside her head, she drew a large knife out of the rack, ready to defend herself.

  She’d never liked violence, but self-defense was an entirely different matter.

  The Previous Day

  Gretel awoke in her upper east side New York City apartment, thankful to be in her own bed. She was still conscious that she had to be useful to the FBI or she’d find herself back in prison. As yet they had given her no concrete guarantees that they wouldn’t proceed with the charges that had been mounting against her. For now, she was free and one day at a time was how she had to play it.

  She took time to leisurely stretch her hands above her head. Freedom had never felt so good. Only a couple of weeks ago she had been facing the prospect of twenty-five-to-life. Somehow, life always had a way of surprising her to the extremes.

  She pulled the covers up around her neck, thinking about Ryan Castle, the man who had double-crossed her and brought her to the attention of the FBI, and who was the direct cause of her getting arrested. Ryan had stolen her latest heist of diamonds and stashed them somewhere. Then he gave evidence against her telling them she’d hidden the jewels. And then, most annoying to her, they’d dropped the charges against him in exchange for his testimony.

  Even though she had made a deal with the FBI, she still wasn’t sure exactly what they expected of her. Sooner or later she’d find out but, for now, all she could focus on was getting those diamonds back.

  “One thing at a time,” she said aloud as she flung back the covers and bounced out of bed. She was halfway to her en suite bathroom when she turned back and picked up her cell
phone and dialed the hospital where Ryan was recovering from a gunshot wound.

  “Hello, could you tell me the ward and room number of Ryan Castle? I’m his sister,” she lied. “He was in Emergency but now I believe he’s in a private room.”

  “Yes, Ryan Castle. I can confirm we have a patient by that name, but regulations don't allow me to release any further information by phone.”

  “Thank you.” She ended the call. At least she knew he was there. She'd be able to learn more once she reached the hospital. A little chat with Ryan while he lay there feeling sorry for himself might point her to where the diamonds were stashed. For certain he’d have a guard on his door, but she’d find her way around that when she got there. Circumstances always worked in her favor.

  After she took her time showering, she changed into some casual clothes—jeans and a soft pink blouse with a barely visible vine pattern. Then she blow-dried her dark hair to give it extra bounce. A luxury that had been denied her in prison.

  Time for makeup. She examined her skin under the strong daylight. It had suffered from the short prison stay, with the poor diet and the lack of good skin products. A facial and a salon peel would help get it back to normal. There were so many things she needed to do, but they’d have to wait until she got the diamonds. She sorted through her array of makeup and found her heaviest foundation. After she’d sponged it over every inch of her face and jawline, she applied the liquid black eyeliner. She gave it a cat-like kick up at the sides to accentuate her deep blue eyes. She finished off with a dash of neutral lip color and a dash of Desert Peach blush.

  Taking two paces back, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Thank goodness she looked nothing like her mug shot that had been on the front page of every newspaper in the country, and across much of the world.

  People would forget in time, she hoped.

  She headed into her walk-in-closet and hesitated at her jewelry box. Given the recent attention she was attracting, she decided against wearing her usual diamonds, and she had no costume jewelry. For her, it was either the real thing or nothing. Moving on to her shoes, she pushed her feet into her favorite platforms. They were high yet comfortable.

  It was a bright day, the sun was shining, the traffic from the street five floors down was rumbling. Since she was keen to leave for the hospital, there was no time for breakfast, but she needed coffee. She flipped on the coffee machine and downed a quick espresso, set her cup in the sink, grabbed her handbag and opened the door.

  In front of her, his hand raised to knock, stood Jack Fletcher.

  He stared at her. “Going somewhere?”

  Chapter 2

  Gretel Koch looked up at the handsome FBI agent as she tried to steady her breathing. Even though she was tall in heels, this man still towered over her. “I’m just headed out to have a decent breakfast.”

  “It’ll have to wait.” He pushed past her into her apartment.

  “Come in,” she said, turning to follow and closing the door behind her with her foot. "Thanks, don't mind if I do," she said a little sarcastically on his behalf, as if he'd properly finished the social niceties.

  When he was in the center of the room, he spun around to face her. “Coffee?”

  “I’ve just had one, thanks for asking.”

  He grinned showing his perfect white teeth. “I meant, would you make me one?”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  Tilting his face up, he wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air. “I can smell Arabica beans with a touch of vanilla.”

  “That’s right. It’s my favorite blend.” She put her bag on the couch and headed to the kitchen area of her open-plan apartment.

  “I do know my coffee.” He came closer and sat on one of the four stools that were pushed against the counter. His hand ran over the marble. “Nice marble.”

  “Calacatta.”

  “Hmm. And who said crime doesn’t pay?”

  A chill ran through her body.

  Was Jack trying to trick her into saying something—trying to get information from her?

  She’d never been on trial for her crimes and she’d never officially confessed to any of them. They’d offered her a deal in exchange for dropping all charges. Seeing she’d been denied bail, it was either accept their offer or rot in jail for ... oh, two or so years awaiting a trial.

  Even though she and Jack were supposedly on the same side, she couldn’t drop her guard with him. As she opened her mouth to make some excuse for her extravagant apartment—the same one she gave the IRS—he spoke again.

  “I’ve got a job for you,” he told her. “Now’s your chance to help us.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “We have something that's come up and it's right up your alley.”

  It was rotten timing. Just when she was looking forward to getting the truth out of Ryan, trapped in his hospital bed with nowhere to run and totally at her mercy. “Can it wait? Say, until tomorrow? There are some urgent things I need to—”

  “No. It’s a murder.”

  Why was that ‘right up her alley?’ It wasn’t as though she’d ever killed anyone or been involved in anything like that. In fact, she didn’t like violence of any kind. Her nose crinkled. “Murder?”

  “Yes. A murder associated with a robbery.”

  “I don’t know how I’d be able to help you. I was never involved in anything like that.” She handed him a cup of black coffee. “I’m sorry. I don’t have milk, or sugar.”

  “That’s okay. I prefer it black with no sugar anyway.” He took a sip, raising an eyebrow in appreciation. “The first days after a murder are the most crucial. That’s why we need to make a move now. When I was called in on it, I knew it was perfect for you. It’ll be a good one for you to cut your teeth on.” He took a mouthful of coffee.

  She leaned forward on the counter across from him. “I didn’t know you’d be needing my services so soon. You really haven’t even told me what’s expected of me. Not in detail anyway.”

  “We believe your input from the criminal perspective will be valuable.”

  Criminal? She never saw herself as a criminal. It bugged her the way he thought she was one.

  Jack was getting in the way of her plans, but she didn’t see a way around it. “Okay. Let’s go.” The sooner she got it over with, the sooner she could get the truth out of Ryan. If luck was on her side, and it normally was, she’d be holding the diamonds in her hands tonight.

  He drained the last of his coffee and then walked over and placed the cup in the sink beside hers. “It’s all right to leave it here?”

  “That’s fine. I'll take care of them later. Thanks.”

  He looked round about him. “Nice apartment you’ve got here.”

  Again with the apartment-talk. This wasn’t good. She’d bought the apartment years ago and had paid millions for it back then. If they took that from her, as proceeds of crime, she didn’t know what she’d do. It was the only place she’d ever truly felt at home. “Thanks. It’s okay.”

  “The views are incredible.”

  “I think so. Shall we go?” She grabbed her bag and then held the door open for him. He walked through.

  When they were heading down in the elevator, his cell phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket. “Jack Fletcher.” Then he hesitated and looked at her. She knew it was something about her. Had they changed their minds? Gone back on their deal? Gretel hated not being in control. That was the reason she worked alone wherever possible.

  He ended the call. “Ryan Castle has disappeared from the hospital. Do you know anything about that?”

  Chapter 3

  Her mouth opened in shock; she’d only just called the hospital. “He’s gone? How’s that possible?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve just been informed.”

  “He’s going after those diamonds. Is that where we’re going, to find the diamonds?”

  “No.” He drew his eyebrows together and stared at her as the elevator doors opene
d. He put his hand across the doors to keep them open, and she stepped out. When he caught up to her, he pulled her to one side of the foyer. “I just told you we’re investigating a murder with a robbery.”

  Frustration whirled through her head. With Ryan gone, how was she going to get anything back from him? Now she wasn’t captive in prison, she was Jack’s personal captive. That was what it felt like. She rubbed her head. She had to pull it together or Jack would think she wasn’t any use to them. “I’m sorry. This has come as a shock. I mean, why would he leave the hospital? He was shot and he was in the intensive care unit.”

  When people entered the building, Jack whispered to her, “We’ll talk in the car.”

  He ushered her out of the foyer, and they walked two blocks to his car while he made a call from his cell phone. When they reached his car, he opened the passenger door for her.

  She slid into the seat and buckled her seatbelt.

  Once they were on the move, he said, “I want you to put your feelings for your boyfriend out of your mind. He’s our problem now. You’re best to forget about him. We’re already working on locating him. He won’t get far.”

  Was he kidding? He thought she was still in love with Ryan. What a joke. Especially when Ryan had given up all he knew about her and was prepared to testify against her. “Find him and you’ll find those diamonds.”

  “Maybe.” He gave her a sidelong glance and she knew that he wasn’t fully convinced Ryan had the diamonds.

  “Look, I know you think I have the diamonds, but I’ve been telling you the truth all along. He left me to drown in that car after he grabbed them. I even saw him running along the shoreline with the bag that the diamonds were in.”