It Takes a Thief--A Heist Romance Read online

  Coming soon from Sloane Steele

  and Carina Press

  Between Two Thieves

  To Catch a Thief

  Also available from Sloane Steele

  writing as Shannyn Schroeder

  The O’Learys series

  More Than This

  A Good Time

  Something to Prove

  Catch Your Breath

  Just a Taste

  Hold Me Close

  Hot & Nerdy series

  Her Best Shot

  Her Perfect Game

  Her Winning Formula

  His Work of Art

  His New Jam

  His Dream Role

  It Takes a Thief

  Sloane Steele

  To all the fans of Leverage who have been writing fanfic and wanting more bad guys who make the best good guys.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Teaser for More Than This by Shannyn Schroeder

  Excerpt from Between Two Thieves by Sloane Steele

  Chapter One

  December

  Jared waved at the doorman as he made his way to the elevator. He spent enough time here that no one expected him to sign in. When Mia first moved in, they stopped him every time, worried that he was an overbearing lover. The thought still made him cringe. Explaining that they were cousins gave him a pass to go up to her apartment without question.

  When the door swung open, Mia looked surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Happy birthday.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Did you think I would let you spend your thirtieth alone?”

  “Who says I plan to be alone?”

  He glanced around the empty room, taking note of the open bottle of wine on the table and single glass beside it, and raised an eyebrow. The woman had lived barely above hermit status for years. She worked, spent time with her mother, and came home to a tastefully and artfully decorated condo. Alone. She’d been gun-shy ever since her engagement ended in a very public humiliation. Her face was free of makeup and she had her thick black hair tied back. She wouldn’t let a new man see her bedtime routine, even though she still looked regal. Mia was like her mother in that way.

  She huffed. “Fine. So I’m alone. I have things to do. Plans to make.”

  He took off his coat and hung it on the rack. Then he turned and handed Mia a wrapped gift.

  “You know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Until you find some guy that will spoil you, I reserve the right. Everyone should have a gift on their birthday.”

  She tugged at the ribbon and slid her finger under the tape.

  “Hey, you know you don’t have to save the paper, right?”

  “Leave me alone.”

  It was the same exchange they had every year, at her birthday and at Christmas. Mia was meticulous in her approach to everything. Jared preferred to dive in.

  Moments later, she held up the thin diamond bracelet. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  She placed it back in the box and went to the liquor cabinet. After she handed him a glass, they settled on the couch in front of the marble fireplace where a fire burned.

  He picked up the open bottle and poured himself some white wine. “Are you slumming today? Since when you do you drink regular wine? No vintage Dom for your birthday?”

  “There is nothing regular about Domaine Leflaive, thank you very much.”

  “So what has you so busy you’re not celebrating with a party?”

  She sniffed. “As if. That’s the last thing I would do.”

  He set his glass on the table without drinking any. “I thought things had gotten better for you. You’ve been making the society circuit again.”

  Their fathers’ crimes had taken a toll on Mia and he wished he could do something to repair the damage done. Both her mother and his felt like pariahs in the society they’d been a part of long before they’d gotten married. In his personal life, he hadn’t taken a hit, mostly because he was a man. Professionally, however, his dreams had been crushed.

  “I’ve been to functions and other than the occasional whisper by the same catty trolls I’ve dealt with my whole life, it has been better. But no big celebrations with me in the spotlight.”

  “Other than sitting around in your pajamas and drinking alone, what are you doing?” He picked up his glass and drank the wine, even though he’d prefer whiskey.

  She reached across the table and flipped open a file folder. He knew immediately what it was. The faces of men they’d grown up around, men who were their fathers’ confidants and friends. “You’re really doing this?”

  Years ago Mia had come to him with a plan to get back at the men who’d gotten rich with their fathers by bilking innocent people out of their life savings. She couldn’t go after her own father or his because they’d fled the country. But she wanted to do something proactive.

  “Did you think I was kidding? You should know better.”

  “I do. Part of me hoped it was a whim you’d plan out and never act on.”

  She laughed. “I would never waste my time. And now that I’m thirty, I have the funds to put everything in play.”

  Their mothers were smart women. They’d made their husbands sign prenups, which protected the Washington family fortune. Mia’s and Jared’s inheritances were safe from the federal government. Their mothers also made sure the money wouldn’t be wasted on immature whims, so they had to wait until their thirtieth birthdays to access the money.

  “Let me help.”

  “It’s dangerous. If I get caught, I don’t want you going down with me.”

  That had always been her argument every time they discussed this. “Then we won’t get caught. Wait until my birthday. I’ll be able to foot half the bill for the plan.”

  “I’ve already waited five years.”

  “Then six more months won’t matter.” He was well aware of how long it had been. He’d just graduated law school and all of his plans and dreams had been sucked into the black hole of his father’s dirty deeds. Who the hell would hire the spawn of a criminal? “It’ll give us time to find the right people to carry this out.”

  She sipped her wine and studied him. His offer intrigued her, but Mia was not someone who liked to give up control.

  “I can be very useful. I have connections you’ll need and have no idea how to get.�
� Once his law career had gone down the drain, he’d taken all the tools his father had instilled in him, and he’d learned to play in all the gray areas of the world. And he was damn good at it.

  He’d embraced their fathers’ teachings about business and people. While Mia had bucked against the lessons in manipulation, he’d made a career from it.

  “I don’t want to use people who know us, who we are. Word will spread and our anonymity will be lost.”

  “You should know better,” he said, throwing her own words back at her. “The players I know on the dark web never reveal their identities. It’s a given that we all use aliases.”

  She sipped more wine. “All right, then. Let’s talk about who we’ll need. A thief, obviously.”

  “A hacker, someone who can get past security systems.” Immediately he thought of Data. He’d used her services many times over the last few years. Efficient and relatively cheap. “I have someone I can reach out to when the time is right.”

  Mia crossed the room and returned with a small notebook and pen. She made a few notes. “I’ve been looking for a forger, but I haven’t found anyone I like.”

  It figured she would start with the forger. Art was her area of comfort.

  He chuckled. “You don’t have to like them.”

  “I’m aware. I meant I don’t like the quality of their work in conjunction with their attitudes. It’s as if making a forgery isn’t enough. They want to make it better.”

  “I’ll put some feelers out for a thief while you continue to hunt for a forger.” He leaned back on the couch and drank the rest of his wine.

  She paused in taking notes, tapping her pen on the pad. “What about selling the artwork once we have it?”

  “I can definitely find buyers.”

  Her jaw muscle pulsed. It was a small twitch, but he knew his cousin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Is there a problem?”

  “It suddenly feels like you’re taking over. I’ve spent years gathering information and planning this, and now you walk in and want to handle all of the active pieces.”

  He sighed and shook his head slightly. “We each have a skill set. You’ve utilized yours masterminding this plan. Let me use mine to help you carry it out.”

  She didn’t seem convinced. He reached over and laid a hand over hers. “This is my legacy, too.”

  Sometimes it seemed like she forgot he shared the same guilt she felt.

  “Fine. But I make all final decisions. This is what I have so far.” Spreading the images from the folder across the coffee table, she ticked off the list of twelve—men who not only aided and abetted their fathers, but who also got rich off the same scheme.

  “How do you see this working?” he asked.

  “I’m still developing the list of artwork they have. We’ll only get one shot, so I want to choose the piece from each of them that will hurt. I’ll commission a forgery. Then the thief goes in, swaps the forgery for the original and we sell the original.”

  “And then?”

  “We use the money to make some reparations for what they did. We might not be able to repay every family, but we can make a difference.”

  He smiled. That was the cousin he knew—all cold steel on the outside but a soft, mushy center. “And how do you decide who gets the money?”

  “I haven’t figured that piece out yet. I have a list of names, people who came forward and publicly criticized our fathers for what they did. That is one way you can help. They can’t know it’s coming from us and you can dig around and see who needs the most help. Prioritize who needs what.”

  Jared nodded and considered who he could have do background checks on the victims. He picked up Mia’s notebook and saw a list on the inside cover. It took a minute, but he recognized the lessons. Their fathers had said these mantras as if they were motivational quotes:

  Spending money to get the best is worth it 99% of the time.

  Endearing yourself to others makes it easier to manipulate them.

  Loyalty to the right people is vital to success.

  He’d assumed that Mia had never paid attention to the rules for business. She’d been an art history major, after all. She preferred the pretty things in life over the gritty side of making money.

  He pointed at the list. “Why have this here?”

  “Because I plan to use their life lessons against them.” She splayed her hands across the photos. “I’m going to teach all of them—including our fathers—Mama’s lesson: actions carry consequences.”

  Karma might be a bitch, but it had nothing on Mia. This summer was going to be interesting.

  * * *

  Green: I know it’s the holidays, but are you available?

  Data: I’m always available for you.

  As soon as she hit send, she cringed.

  Green: Interesting. I hadn’t realized we’d arrived at that point in our relationship.

  Data: I’m available for WORK. You know what I meant.

  Green: Hmm... I think it might’ve been a Freudian slip.

  Data: And I think your ego is too big. What kind of job?

  Green: I’ll send you photos. I need you to dig up some dirt.

  Data: Oooo... Blackmail. Intriguing.

  Green: I said nothing about blackmail.

  Data: It was in the subtext. I read between the lines.

  Green: It’s all right for you to read between the lines but I’m not allowed?

  Data: Glad we’re clear. :)

  She waited for the link to pop up and scanned the information he sent.

  Data: What’s your timeline?

  Green: Soon. But given the holidays, I can wait the week.

  Data: Got it. I’ll let you know when I have info.

  Audrey closed her laptop with a smile. Things usually quieted down for her over the holidays. She was grateful to have anything pop up, and the fact that Mr. Green had a job was all the better. The man always paid well, and at this point, she needed every penny she could get. After shoving her computer in her bag, she bundled up against the cold for her walk to the bus stop.

  Before leaving the apartment, she glanced at her bedroom door. She’d been living here with Misty for almost three months, but over the last couple of weeks, she’d had the feeling that her room wasn’t secure. Misty said she hadn’t stepped foot in the room since Audrey moved in, but her roommate often had guests. The sleazy kind she brought home from her job at the strip club.

  Her equipment was all she had of value and most of Misty’s “dates” wouldn’t have a clue what to do with any of it; she just didn’t want creepy guys touching her stuff, so until she came up with a better lock, she carried her laptop with her. She patted her pocket to double-check that her present for Gram was still there. This was their first Christmas apart. Not really apart, but not living together. Three months ago she’d made the painful decision to sell everything she had and pour every penny into getting Gram the care she needed.

  Audrey couldn’t take care of her anymore.

  The assisted living facility cost more than Audrey made, but Gram deserved the best care possible. So here she was on Christmas Eve trekking on the bus in twenty-degree weather to share Christmas with Gram. The dark sky made it feel closer to midnight than dinnertime.

  Horizons looked like any other residence on the outside. Kind of stately but bland. Inside, they at least put in some effort to be festive. They had a Christmas tree in the corner of the lobby as well as a menorah on the reception desk. Audrey signed in without chatting with the receptionist and went straight to Gram’s room.

  Room. That was funny. Gram actually had more of an apartment than she did. Gram’s place had a small kitchen as well as a living room–bedroom combo. Gram answered the door.

  “Audrey? What are you doing here?”

  “Hi, Gram.
How are you? I thought we’d spend Christmas Eve together like we do every year.”

  “I don’t know that I’m done being mad at you for sticking me here,” Gram said as she walked away from the door.

  Audrey took it as an invitation. She unwrapped her scarf and laid her jacket and bag on a side table near the door. Pulling the gift out, she said, “I brought you a gift.”

  “Pfft. Hope you weren’t counting on anything. I’m like a prisoner here. I couldn’t go shopping.” She settled in her recliner facing the TV.

  “They told me they do trips to the mall.” In all likelihood, Gram had probably forgotten. That had been happening more and more. “Here.”

  She accepted the small package and peeled at the paper. It wasn’t much, but Audrey had chosen a box of Gram’s favorite chocolates, ones Gram typically only indulged in for special occasions. The doctor had said that small reminders might help prompt her memory.

  “What’s this?” She studied the box for a minute and then practically threw it at the table beside her. “I hate chocolate. Makes me sick.”

  “No, it doesn’t, Gram. Remember? These are the ones filled with booze. They’re your favorite.”

  She sniffed, a look of irritation on her face. “I never drink.”

  Audrey sighed and sat on the edge of the loveseat. So much for holidays with family. They fell into silence, except for the blaring of the TV showing reruns of General Hospital. Audrey longed to talk with Gram like they used to do.

  Gram suddenly turned and looked at her. “Tina? What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay away.”

  “Gram, it’s me, Audrey.”

  Gram rose and jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t you lie to me. Get out!”

  Audrey’s throat closed. This was why she’d been forced to bring Gram here. There had been more days of confusion than reality. Audrey missed Gram.

  “Have a good Christmas,” she said quietly as she picked up her jacket and bag and left.

  On the bus ride back home, she swallowed tears. She’d believed she’d have more time with Gram. Being alone had never really bothered Audrey, but losing Gram was unfathomable.

  She let herself into the apartment and stepped over three pairs of sky-high heels that Misty typically tossed when she walked through the door. A smudged mirror sat on the coffee table, alerting her to the fact that partying had been happening in her absence. Misty must’ve celebrated the holiday before going in to work.