Shiny Things Read online

  Just as the sky was turning from dark blue to black, she arrived at the street where she’d planned to park. Now she had to wait until eight. Looking up at the stars in the sky, she wondered what her life would be like now if she’d never met Ryan Castle. She’d been about to retire knowing that the odds were against her continuing her career undetected. It was only a matter of time. Why had she been so quick to tell him what she did?

  She rested her head back and closed her eyes. He’d told her many things about himself and the crimes he’d committed, and the people he’d tricked out of their fortunes. They were people who deserved it, he’d said. People involved with human trafficking and cruelty to animals. He’d brought them down, or so he’d said. Now she didn’t know if anything he’d told her was true. Still, it had made her open up to him. He’d convinced her to do one last job. Rather than work with Kent and her people, she’d trusted him. It had been dumb and it’d cost her freedom.

  Don’t fix what isn’t broken. She should never have changed her formula that had worked so well.

  “Stop thinking about him,” she said aloud. A glance at the clock in the car told her there was still half an hour to wait, but she wasn’t nervous—not for this small job. Earlier that day, she’d noted the layout of the whole house, as well as exit and entry points.

  Her thoughts drifted to Jack Fletcher. Would he or could he be interested in a woman like her? She could see herself with a man like Jack, honest, dependable. Someone who only saw the good in her. From the way he acted he seemed to think she was reformed. If she was married to a man like him, that would give her the best incentive to change her ways forever. A house in the suburbs, maybe a couple of kids and a dog. Yes, definitely a dog.

  But that imaginary life wouldn’t be all sunshine and lollipops, she realized. Her days would be filled with boring mundane things and the highlight would be going to the gym or getting her hair done. She winced at the thought of laundry and having to dream up different dinners to cook each night, as well as the chore of driving kids to soccer on the weekend. Soccer was something she never understood. Being a housewife and mother was for other people, she realized the more she thought about it.

  Looking out the window at all the grand houses owned and lived in by normal, yet affluent people, she had to wonder why she couldn’t be satisfied with normal.

  Gretel drummed her fingertips on the steering wheel. Nearly eight. She’d wait for a few minutes after the hour to be sure the alarm was off.

  At five after eight, Gretel made her move.

  Chapter 6

  She pulled on her hooded pullover, got out of the car and slung her knapsack over her back. Then she jogged steadily to look as though she were exercising if anyone saw her. Two streets over and then she located the house that backed onto the Welch mansion. There were no vicious dogs and they had no fence except at the back of their property. It was an easy climb and when she got to the top, she climbed down the hedge branches. Then by the light of the moon, she sprinted to the house making sure her hood covered her face. She reached the conservatory and made her way through to the backdoor. The house was in darkness.

  “Like taking candy from a baby,” she murmured to herself as she took out her lock picking tools. “Who gives a baby candy? It wouldn’t be so easy taking it from a toddler, though.” With the help of the two metal implements, she picked the lock. The click of a lock opening always put a smile on her face.

  Then she pulled on her gloves and wiped the entire lock area with her sleeve. After she moved through the door, she closed it behind her. With the alarm off, the only thing to worry about was the patrol car she’d been told would be driving by every so often.

  There was no fancy fingerprint-coded entry for this house. The security was surprisingly undercooked for the treasures they’d had within. “No wonder they were robbed. It’s amazing it hadn’t happened sooner.”

  Mrs. Welch wasn’t due until tomorrow and could only come back into the house once the crime tape was removed.

  Gretel moved farther in and closed the door behind her. In the darkness, she found her way. It was hard not to turn on a light, but she didn’t want to alert any neighbors or passing patrol cars.

  She moved to the front window of the house and peeked out over the driveway. A police car drove to the front gates and stopped.

  “Come up to the house. Come on.” She taunted the police officer in a low voice. He was so far away that even if she yelled he still wouldn’t be able to hear. She continued to stare at the officer as he aimlessly shone his flashlight to and fro. He didn’t even move through the gates. A minute later, he was back in his vehicle and backing out of the entrance. She waited until the car was out of sight. If he bothered to come back at all tonight, it wouldn’t be for another couple of hours. There was plenty of time.

  Gretel wasn’t worried. This was the routine patrol that Jack had mentioned. No wonder they needed her help if that was the best they could do.

  She headed up the stairs taking them two at a time. Her heart pulsed hard with anticipation over what she’d discover in the safe. Visions of the Welch jewelry collection flashed before her. She loved the replica Egyptian jewelry crafted in the fifties by Serita, a major jewelry house. She was certain some of those pieces had made their way into Josephine’s hands. Each piece was worth at least two hundred thousand.

  As she pushed the study door open, it struck her that this robbery was too easy, too simple, and that was unnerving. Or maybe all residential robberies were this way.

  The safe door was propped open. Convenient. She pulled down the blind, and then drew the curtain. Making her way back to the safe, she pulled out her flashlight, strapped it to her forehead and turned it on. The interior base was untouched, unopened. Without taking her eyes off the safe, she reached into her bag and pulled out the automatic screwdriver and proceeded to undo the screw in each corner. Then with the bent nail she’d brought with her, she pulled on the base and it came loose.

  Second obstacle overcome.

  After she lifted the base cover off, she couldn’t believe what she saw illuminated by her flashlight.

  It was empty.

  Completely.

  Nothing.

  Lights outside distracted her. Immediately she flicked off her flashlight and ran to the window. Moving the blinds, she saw a car. It wasn’t the patrol car. Then the front passenger door opened, and Gretel saw a woman. It had to be Mrs. Welch, home ahead of schedule. A man got out of the driver's door, his eyes scanning the house.

  Gretel watched from the darkness above, sure Josephine and her companion wouldn’t cross the crime scene tape. Then she heard the door open and muffled voices coming from downstairs. She was shocked.

  Suddenly the house was lit inside and out like a football field at night.

  There was no time to waste.

  After she closed the heavy safe door, she spun the dial and realized she’d forgotten the four screws and the top plate that made the lid of the hidden section. Too late. She placed them between the wall and the safe. She sprinted halfway out the door, before she remembered she’d left her knapsack on the floor next to the safe. This wouldn’t have happened if she’d taken precautions. Most times she had Kent as lookout, talking to her through an earpiece. She sprinted back to grab her stuff and heard voices. They were discussing that the security system was off and were concerned because they’d had it switched on remotely.

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

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

  She took hold of her knapsack and ran to one of the bedrooms that lined the back of the house. She’d climb out the window and make her way down the sandstone blocks that made up the facade of the house.

  When she got there, she found that it—and all the bedroom doors—was locked. That was something she hadn’t planned for and there was no time to pick the locks. Someone was coming. T
hen she remembered from when she had visited there as a child, they had played on a servants’ stairway that led to the kitchen. She raced to the corner and ran down the narrow stairs.

  Arriving in the kitchen, she heard footsteps. She froze. Would she make it to the back door without being seen? She decided no, she wouldn’t make it, and slipped into the butler’s pantry and closed the door behind her.

  When she heard closer footsteps on the kitchen floor, she knew it was the end. Would she be killed just like Mr. Welch? She backed further into the corner, but there was no place to hide. Feeling her heartbeats throbbing in her head, she picked up a knife ready to defend herself.

  Then she placed it back, remembering her phone. She’d been careless this time and over confident. She reached into the side pocket of her knapsack and pulled out her cell. Kent answered on the first ring. “I’m here and hiding in the Welch house. The owner’s come home early, and I need them out now. Hurry. I’m hiding and they’ll find me any minute.”

  “I’m on it.”

  She ended the call and shoved the phone into the pocket of her pants ready to run. Once more she picked up the knife and clutched the handle tightly. Moving to the door of the pantry, she heard the home phone. It was too close for comfort. The sounds rang out from the kitchen.

  “Hello?” she heard. A female voice, must be Mrs. Welch. “Who is this? Is this a joke?” The receiver slammed down, and Mrs. Welch yelled out. “There’s a bomb! We need to get out!”

  Gretel heaved a sigh of relief as she listened to the scurrying footsteps, the slammed front door, and then the car driving away.

  Get out of here fast!

  She flung open the pantry door and ran to the back of the house.

  “Stop!” someone called out.

  Gretel froze with her hand on the door that led to the conservatory. Was it the police? She turned around and saw a dark figure with his hands by his sides. He appeared to have no weapon. Was it another thief with the same idea as she had? She wasn’t going to wait around to find out. She ran through the doorway and sprinted across the backyard with the man now hot on her heels.

  “Stop! I just want to talk.”

  She grabbed hold of the main hedge branch and from there started climbing using the metal fasteners as footholds. He was only inches from her when he started climbing too. He made a lunge and grabbed her leg. She kicked her leg trying to free herself from his grasp.

  No!

  She couldn’t be caught.

  Not like this.

  Chapter 7

  Hanging on to the fence for dear life, with an unknown man in black hanging on to her foot, she pulled her other leg up as high as she could and thrust it down at the man. It connected. She heard a yell as he fell back. Without looking down, she kept going, reaching up for the next handhold and the one above that.

  Once she was on the top, she scrambled across, lowered herself and then let go and tumbled onto the ground to break her fall. From the backyard of the neighbor’s property, she sprinted through to the street beyond. In case she was seen, she steadied her pace to a comfortable jog. She was dressed as though she was out for an evening jog, but for the knapsack on her back. Two streets away she came to her rental car and with no sign of the man in black, she knew she was safe.

  She sat in the rental car breathing hard. There’d been not one close call, but two. After she called Kent and told him she was safe, she peeled off her pullover and then reality hit her again about how stupid she had been to be drawn in by temptation. When all was said and done, she’d just risked her freedom for an empty safe.

  Gretel blew out a long deep breath. She hadn’t made a contingency plan for Josephine returning and she certainly hadn’t made one for coming face to face with another thief.

  It hit her what would’ve happened if she’d gotten caught. It was stupid to take such a risk. But she hadn't gotten caught, and adrenaline pumped through every inch of her being. It was only in times like these that she felt truly alive.

  It was then that she remembered the safe had been open when she got to it and she’d closed it. Hopefully, that would be a detail no one would notice.

  She started the engine and then froze as she heard police sirens. After a minute, they stopped. Sounded like they’d just arrived at the Welches' house to investigate the bomb scare. Gretel smiled as she disengaged the handbrake and then she laughed out loud as she drove onward.

  When Gretel was safely back in her apartment, the first thing she did was check her phone. Relief washed over her when she saw that there was no missed call from Jack asking where she was. Phew!

  Still feeling pumped, she sank into the couch and her mind went over what had happened. Who was the man who'd been at the house with Josephine? If only she’d gotten a better look at him ... but she wouldn’t forget his raspy voice.

  What really bugged her now was the other man who’d appeared in the house after Josephine and her friend drove away. In her worst nightmares he’d be an investigator, or another thief come to find leftovers. Had he too suspected that the real jewelry hadn’t been stolen and was still there?

  Hours later, she woke up. She'd dozed off. She was still on the couch and in the same clothing. Now she was cold. A quick glance at her cell phone told her it was just after midnight. If Jack came uninvited into her apartment like he had the previous morning it wouldn’t be good. She had to unpack her bag and get out of those clothes

  After stripping off, she stepped into the shower. The hot water pummeled against her back, and her thoughts moved to her ex-boyfriend Ryan and where he was right now. It was a horrible feeling that he’d gotten the better of her. How could she have ever loved him? Why was her filter way off when it came to men? She was normally a good judge of character—had to be one in her line of work. He’d done a real number on her.

  She turned off the water and reached for a towel. As she dried herself she had a dreadful thought. What if that man from the house knew who she was? The scene ran through her mind. She was pretty certain she’d be able to recognize him again if she heard his voice.

  Once Gretel was in her usual nightly attire of a very unglamorous, over-sized t-shirt, she set about unpacking her burglar bag and hiding each item in its own spot. After that was done she felt better. Only thing was, now she was starving. Food would have to wait. She needed to talk to Kent about the man she’d just seen.

  By the way he answered the phone she knew she’d woken him.

  “What’s up?”

  She filled him in on the events of the previous evening, of how Josephine came to the house with a man, and then about the other man. “He had an athletic build, a little taller than me. He was somewhere in his forties, broad chiseled face, spoke in an educated and distinctly deep voice. I know what you’re going to ask. Would I know him if I saw him again?”

  “Would he know you if he saw you again?”

  “I hope not. The house was dark, I was in black and I didn’t speak. He tried to grab me. Well, he did grab me as I was climbing over the fence. It was a close call. Who do you think he was?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got nothing to go on. I should’ve driven you, Gretel. You can’t take a risk like that again no matter how easy you think it’ll be.”

  “I can’t think about that right now. That’s in the past.” She was already upset with herself for thinking it was going to be simple. Normally she was over-prepared. “What was he doing there? He was in the house while Josephine’s friend was searching the place. He was hiding like I was. I never saw him when I was working on the safe, though.”

  “Was he going to jump you after you opened the safe for him?”

  “No. It wasn’t locked. The safe was unlocked but I had to unscrew the bottom plate to open the hidden compartment.” She thought again of how she’d left the safe with that section uncovered and the loose bits between the safe and the wall. As soon as Josephine opened the safe she would see someone had been there.

  “Do you think you were fol
lowed? Has Fletcher got a tail on you?”

  “No. It’s not possible. I made sure I wasn’t followed to the car rental company and back home again. And I left my personal cell phone here in case he's tracking it.”

  “Maybe it’s a waiting game. You might find out when you learn more about the Welch murder.”

  Gretel yawned. “I hope so. It’s bugging me. Sorry for waking you up.”

  “That’s okay. Night, Gretel.”

  “'Night?' Oh, it is still night. Goodnight, Kent.” After she ended the call, she opened the fridge and was faced with nothing but a chocolate bar and out of date orange juice. She’d had no time to shop.

  The only thing in the cupboard, among the pasta and rice and other things that needed cooking, was a solitary can of vegetable soup. The funny thing was, she had no idea when she’d bought it or why. That wasn’t unusual. She rarely ate at home and quite often had no idea what was lurking in her cupboard. Hunger forced her to open the can, dump the soup into a glass dish, and pop it into the microwave. While she waited for it to heat, she opted to toast some bread she found in the freezer.

  It wasn’t the best meal she’d ever had, but it beat prison food by a country mile.

  Gretel was dragged from deep sleep by a loud knock on her door. From the apartment being flooded with light, she surmised it was morning. It had to be Jack Fletcher. Somehow, he’d managed to get past the doorman. Again. This was the third doorman they’d had in as many months and this one didn’t seem to be any better than the others. Jack had probably flashed his badge, or flashed his smile. Either would work. Handsome people had such an advantage over others.

  “Coming.” She sat up and reached for her white fluffy bathrobe that was on the other side of the bed. After she pulled it on, she stood up and hurried to the door finger-combing her hair into place. Once she confirmed from the security monitor it was Jack, she unlocked the door and opened it.

  He walked past her with barely a look. “Last night there was an intruder in the Welch house.”