Heist, p.1
Heist, page 1
part #3 of Gretel Koch Jewel Thief Series
Heist
Book 3 Gretel Koch Jewel Thief
Samantha Price
Copyright © 2020 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
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Gretel Koch Jewel Thief series
About Samantha Price
Chapter 1
Like taking candy from a baby.
That was Gretel Koch’s standard response each time she heard the click of a safe opening. It gave her a sense of satisfaction nothing could equal.
The safe’s combination was 30, 20, 12. Gretel had guessed it on the second go.
The numbers were a medley of Franklin Carver’s current wife’s birthday and those of his two daughters.
She’d planned to give it three tries before she turned to her trusty stethoscope. It worked well with vintage and antique dial safes like these, but she enjoyed employing the guessing game.
Billionaires like Carver should take better care when choosing combinations for their personal safes, but they didn’t.
A minute to go.
Gretel’s heart thumped against her ribcage as she pulled the safe's heavy door toward her.
What she saw shocked her.
On the three shelves were seemingly hundreds of small parcels, some wrapped in plain brown paper and others in store boxes, all neatly placed in rows according to size. If Carver had packed this safe, he had to have OCD to the extreme.
She hadn’t expected a safe this size to be full.
It could take several minutes to locate the items.
Removing the whole safe wasn’t an option. Neither was loading up the contents. All she could do was look in every package until she found them, and do it quickly. She grabbed the nearest box that seemed the correct size to hold one of the ancient jade statues.
The pressure of time ticking away caused her palms to sweat and her hands to tremble slightly. Her nervous fingers fumbled the box and it fell to the plush Persian carpet under her feet.
Get it together, girl.
Before her arrest, nerves hadn’t been a problem. Now, getting caught was a reality, not some fuzzy can’t-happen-to-me notion.
She leaned down and scooped up the box and opened it.
A smile came to her lips at the sight of a wide, diamond and emerald encrusted bangle.
Nice!
Gretel resisted the urge to try it on and snapped the lid shut.
It was hard not to take it home with her. She set it back in place on the shelf.
Just when she had her hands on the next box, an alarm sounded.
Gretel jumped.
Something had gone wrong.
Her instincts took over and she grabbed the smallest and easiest to hide package before her brain had a chance to register a single thought. The part of Gretel that wanted to go straight, and possibly—eventually—marry FBI special agent Jack Fletcher, helplessly looked on.
Once she'd pushed the safe door closed and spun the dial, there was no going back.
Gretel straightened up, tucked the box in the pocket of her pullover and headed for the door while ripping off her gloves.
Surely Carver and his cronies wouldn’t miss one small package. Especially when the safe was crammed with so much stuff.
In the hallway, she stowed the gloves in a waiting service trolley and wheeled it back to the service room.
When she was safely locked in the room, she leaned against a wall taking a moment to steady herself. With the vibration of the alarm resounding through the walls, no relief came.
Her fingertips traveled to the package she’d taken.
What delights did it hold?
Just like a kid at Christmastime, she couldn’t wait to see.
With her breathing back to normal, she felt better, but not safe. Never safe.
That fire alarm hadn’t been planned. She had to wonder if her sidekick, Kent, had used it as a distraction.
This was her last job and she’d been obligated to do it to cover up a past blunder.
After this, she’d never steal again, no matter what.
Jack believed in her and she couldn’t let him down. If he found out what she was doing here, she’d never be able to live with herself. It would be the worst thing ever to see the disappointment in his beautiful eyes.
No. She couldn’t think about him now. There would be time to feel all kinds of guilt later.
After taking a deep breath, she opened the door, looked around and—seeing there was no one about—stepped into the hallway.
Carver and his guests were supposed to be eating lunch, but since the alarm was sounding they could well have moved onto the bridge.
The best she could hope for was that the alarm was some kind of drill. Her escape plan didn’t include getting on a life raft crammed with thirty people.
It was only now she considered that everyone might’ve already abandoned the yacht. Still, there was nothing other than the alarm that signaled danger.
No side-to-side movement under her feet. The floor seemed level and there were no shouts or screams such as might be expected in an emergency.
Why wouldn’t the alarm let up?
She took the elevator down to the lower level. As the elevator moved, she realized she should’ve taken the stairs. What if the yacht really was on fire?
Once the doors opened, smoke invaded her nostrils, and she heard raised voices. She wasted no time hurrying to her room, hoping no one saw her.
There must’ve been a fire, but hopefully they’d put it out. Gretel’s bunkmate who also happened to be the annoying first officer would be looking for her to help with the lunch service. Gretel had slipped away when they started the main course.
When Gretel heard footsteps, she ducked into the nearest doorway, which happened to be a toilet, and locked herself in.
The alarm ceased.
All was silent.
As she took hold of the small box, the captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker and Gretel looked up.
“There was a fire in the galley, but it’s been contained,” the voice said.
The chef—she was in trouble again.
As quick as she could, her fingernails peeled off the tape holding the paper together. The paper fell to the floor as Gretel stared at the highly polished wooden box.
A ring box.
What was inside?
She hoped it was worth it.
Chapter 2
Two days earlier.
Gretel had stayed up late watching movies, and she had planned to sleep in.
The last thing she expected was an early-morning call on her burner phone.
Only two people had that number, Kent and Marty, her long term associates in crime.
The early call was strangely welcome.
It’d saved her from the nightmare she was having about Ryan Castle. He was still on the run from the police, and in her dream he was strangling her in a car.
She leaned over and fumbled through the drawer of her bedside table hoping to grab the phone before it stopped ringing. “Hello.”
“It’s me.” It was Kent.
“I’m asleep. Or, I was asleep.”
“Forsitto is looking for you. I just got an email.”
Jackson Forsitto was her main fence, her mover of stolen gems and jewelry. Jackson wasn’t his real name. He’d dropped his Christian name back in the seventies in an effort to sound more American. His jewelry store was now the destination for New York City’s rich and famous.
“Thanks. I’ll call him when I wake up.”
“It’s nine. I thought you were an early riser. Don’t you run in the park first thing?”
“Sometimes… except when I’m sleeping.”
“Sorry to—”
Gretel pressed end, and tossed the phone back in the drawer, slamming it closed.
She sat up, realizing she might drift back into the same nightmare—it had happened to her before. Then she ripped the covers off and headed out to the kitchen. Once the coffee machine purred into action, she hit the remote to raise her blinds. The morning sun streamed in, waking her further.
Maybe watching those movies so late hadn’t been a good idea.
She hated getting woken up. And that was the main reason she didn’t have a pet. She’d recently begun toying with the idea of getting a small dog to take running with her, on walks, or even out for coffee. She’d watched dog owners lately and couldn’t help feeling she was missing out.
There had to be more for her in life. Here she was on the wrong side of thirty with no man, no pets, and no close friends.
A pet would keep her company, but then there were the logistics of looking after a living being. For now, the idea of a pet was on hold.
Jack Fletcher wouldn’t be needing her for several days. He was giving lectures to new FBI recruits in Virginia. The whole thing had sounded boring as he was telling her the details, and Gretel had stopped listening somewhere along the way.
Monica Blaze wasn’t going with him and that was all Gretel had cared about. That woman would do anything to get her hands on Jack. Monica still hadn’t returned to active service after she’d been shot in the shoulder. Something for which she’d blamed Gretel.
Gretel poured her coffee and then took a cup over to the couch. Once she took the first sip, she was ready to face whatever drama Forsitto had. It would definitely be a drama, or some kind of problem. They weren’t social acquaintances or friends.
Gretel had a bad feeling.
Something wasn’t right.
There was only one way to find out.
She picked up her cell phone and hit the number. He answered immediately, which was unusual.
“Hey, what’s up?” Gretel asked.
“Okay…”
“Is something wrong?” She could tell he was pacing. That was what he did when he was upset.
“The dagger,” was all he said.
She knew what he was talking about right away. There’d been so much on her mind lately she’d forgotten about it. It was reportedly owned by a Tsar of Russia. She’d come across it years ago when she was on her way out of a museum after she’d taken a suite of diamond jewelry. It had caught her eye. “You’ve got a buyer?”
“Well, yes and no.”
“Which one is it? It can’t be both. What’s it been, two years now?”
“I was nearly going to suggest to you that we break it up for scrap, but I found a buyer. He made us an offer.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“One point five after I take my cut.”
Forsitto was a harsh negotiator. She’d learned long ago never to take his first offer. “No way in the world. It’s worth a lot more than that.”
“No it’s not.”
She knew he wasn’t lying—she could hear it in his voice. “Who wants it?”
“Gretel, you know I can’t tell you. I don’t work that way. Anyway, listen up.”
“Go on.”
“I knew you’d be happy with the price.”
“I’m not!”
“Okay, I thought you’d be happy, so… I hadn’t got around to telling you about the sale yet. The deal was supposed to happen today. As always, I checked the diamonds and no go.”
“No go?”
“They’re fake, Gretel.”
It took a moment for his words to soak in. The image of the piece in question jumped into her mind. She hadn't taken a close look at those diamonds, she’d just assumed… And they had looked like the real deal to her practiced eyes. There’d been no reason to doubt them. “Can’t be.”
“Did you test the stones?” Forsitto asked. “Maybe you should come here so we can talk in person.”
“We can talk on the phone. I didn’t get them from some random bank vault. I got them from a museum. I didn’t even think to test them. It looked like the real deal.”
“Fake.”
“The rest of the haul was okay.”
“I know but the dagger is not.”
“Someone must’ve…”
“Done a switcheroo in the museum. Exactly. And it could’ve happened at any time. Unfortunately, I had to tell my client the truth of what happened. I had to tell him I’d made an error.”
“Oh, please tell me you kept my name out of it.”
“Of course I did. I’ve never told anyone about you. Naturally, he was upset when he learned the dagger was fake. He had his heart set on it. I can’t afford to upset him. He’s my biggest client, and therefore that makes him an important person to you.”
She wondered where he was going with this. “To me?”
“Yes. I know you wouldn’t like to be the direct cause of my reputation being ruined.”
“I’m sorry. I guess next time I’ll double check everything before I pass it on to you.” She hoped that would help. Even though there never would be a ‘next time.’
“'Sorry' won’t cut it.”
“Hey, I’m the one that took all the risk. Just tell him it won’t happen again.”
“That won’t work with a man like him. He’s one of the wealthiest men in New York and one of the most powerful. I had to work a deal.”
“Good. I’m glad you were able to work it out.”
“Not yet, but we will be able to.”
She held her breath. He was trying to tell her something but he was taking a long time to get to it. “What do you mean?”
“I told him I’d help him with something. Anything he wanted.”
‘Help’ in Forsitto’s language meant stealing, and she hadn’t missed the word ‘we.’ “Go on.”
“He wants the Lady with Fleur-de-lis.”
“The famous painting?”
“Yes.”
“You know an art thief?”
“Yes. You.”
“There’s no way I can do that. Diamonds and jewelry are small, portable—in-and-out jobs. I’m not doing art. End of story. It’s far too risky and way out of my comfort zone. Besides, I’ve left that whole life behind me. I’ve gone straight.”
He laughed.
“I have.”
“I’m sorry, but I find that amusing.”
“I can’t—I won’t—steal a painting. I’m serious.”
“He does have another option.”
“Whatever it is, I’m not doing it.”
“Just listen. And you will do it or we both stand to lose a lot of money. Neither one of us can afford to get on this man’s bad side, he’s powerful. If I told you who he is, you’d understand me. He’s one of the most influential men in New York. He gets what he wants.”
“Yes, you said that already. You’ll have to find someone else. I’m sorry. I don’t do that anymore.”
“There is no one else. You’re the best. Do it for me, for all the deals we’ve done in the past. I’ve made you a rich woman.”
“And I’ve made you a rich man.”
“Gretel, just do this one thing for me. I need it. Help out an old friend. Just listen first before you say no again.”
Gretel sighed. She missed the thrill, the planning, the escape, and the covering her tracks afterward. The rewards were so sweet, but the prison inmates she’d been tossed into jail with had been anything but sweet. If things went south and she landed back in the slammer, they’d kill her … or at the very least, they’d make her life so unbearable she’d wish she were dead. “I can’t do it.”
“You have to. You owe me. I relied on you when you gave me that dagger. I never thought you’d give me something fake to sell. It is bad for the both of us.”
He knew how to get at her. She hated it when she was let down. That had happened too many times in her life. Gretel always did her best to do the right thing with others. “Just tell me what the job is. I don’t need all the ins and outs. What’s the target?”
“Igotchis.”
“I… What?”
“They are small gold and jewel-encrusted jade statues. The Incas used them as gods, prayed to them.”
“Never heard of them.”
“There’s no reason you would’ve.”
“Where are they? I can’t go overseas with the restrictions they’ve placed on me.”
“It’s an easy job. They’re on a boat.”
“What kind of boat?”
“The kind a billionaire would own.”
“A yacht?”
“The items you need to steal reside in a safe on what they call a mega yacht.”
