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  “And the hot cars,” Carr added.

  Sister Mary Katherine nodded. “He’s a lost soul.”

  Malina shrugged. “If you like. We interrogate Rafton at his office and pray he doesn’t ask for an attorney.”

  “And if he does?” Carr asked.

  “Then we’re screw—um, out of luck. But I don’t think he will at first. He’ll think he can talk his way out of anything. So I push him—we know what you’re up to, we know about the robbery, you’ll be charged with an international felony. The Australian government, Interpol, the FBI, etc. We all want you.

  “When I’ve got him on the ropes, then you come in, Carr.” She shifted her attention directly to him. “You have to be careful not to agree to be his attorney—you don’t do criminal cases, but maybe you could recommend a friend. You’re just there to hold his hand.”

  “My favorite role,” Carr returned, setting his wineglass on the table with a snap.

  “But it’s a critical one,” Andrea said before Malina could. “You’ll be his lifeline among the chaos. He’ll relax and tell Malina what she needs to know.” Andrea looked at Malina. “That’s the goal, right? To get him to roll over on Simon.”

  Grateful for Andrea’s support, but worried about Carr’s strained expression, Malina nevertheless nodded. “That’s the only chance we’ve got.”

  Carr said nothing for several minutes. He stared at the stem of his wineglass, which he turned round and round on the kitchen table. “It skirts the line of an attorney’s role and allegiance. By standing with Jack, I’m implying I’m on his side.”

  Malina had been worried about this obstacle. After Carr’s recent confessions, she didn’t think he’d particularly like her tactics. But the plan had been brewing ever since she’d met Simon, or whoever he really was. He was the kind who used weaker people, over and over, while he slipped away like a snake in the night. She wanted him behind bars and his pretend lifestyle of respectability exposed.

  Carr’s problem was that he saw too much of himself in Jack and Simon. He saw himself as the villain. Malina was going to make it her personal mission to prove him wrong—to prove that though his decisions had caused heartache in some, his talents had changed the lives of others.

  He may not have intended to do good, but he had.

  “Would you rather the thieves get away with their crimes?” Malina challenged. “Maybe they’ll think Palmer’s Island is a nice, quiet place to set up shop permanently?”

  Carr scowled at her, then directed his attention to the nun. “Sister Mary Katherine?”

  Regally, the Sister nodded, then her steadfast gaze moved to Malina and held. “Do you often feel forced to lie during the course of investigating your cases, Agent Blair?”

  “No,” Malina said coolly. “I lie by choice in order to put people behind bars, people who corrupt and taint the lives of ordinary citizens who simply want to live free and happy. Do you have a problem with that?”

  The nun blinked, probably not used to people who met her challenges head-on. But Malina believed in degrees of right and wrong, and intention was a critical element. She hoped the good Sister had some sense of that philosophy.

  Finally, she linked her pale, vein-covered hands in front of her on the table. “I certainly don’t. Do you think Carr is essential to your capture of these men?”

  “Yes. Without him there, I’m the enemy, and he’ll clam up and hire a guy who’ll tell him to keep his mouth shut while the lawyers haggle the details for days.”

  Andrea sighed. “And the real thief—Simon Ellerby—slips quietly away.”

  Malina had no intention of letting that happen, but she knew it was a possibility. “Exactly.”

  “Do you want to do this, Carr?” the Sister asked him.

  You decided to make it your mission to beat yourself. You didn’t want somebody like you coming along to subvert justice.

  Malina could all but see her words from earlier zipping through his brain.

  “Very much,” he said.

  “Then I think you should,” the Sister concurred.

  Carr absorbed this verdict with a nod. “Is this the plan the SAC would recommend?” he asked Malina.

  “Hel—” Glancing at the nun, Malina cleared her throat. “No, I don’t think so. He’d recommend watching the suspects a while longer, seeing if we can find out more about all the members of the group. Jack might not be the most vulnerable link.”

  “But the diamonds are gone already,” Andrea said. “Or nearly are.”

  Malina was really starting to like that woman, even if she didn’t get the whole thieves-as-friends concept. “Exactly. We don’t have the luxury of surveillance and research time.”

  “After we confront him, Jack could run,” Carr warned, who seemed to be as committed to his role as devil’s advocate. “Or, worse, rat us out to Simon.”

  “The minute he agrees to talk, I’ll put him in protective custody.”

  Carr lifted his eyebrows. “Won’t Simon be suspicious if Jack suddenly disappears? And if the SAC doesn’t approve, how are you going to get authorization for the deal?”

  “The SAC will approve,” Malina insisted. I just have to do a better job selling this to him than I am to you. “And we’ll be watching Ellerby. Losing Jack will make him panic, do something stupid, then we’ll have him.”

  We could always send her over to the SAC, Carr had said about Sister Mary Katherine. That wasn’t a half-bad idea. But the her Malina wanted to send wasn’t the nun, but Andrea. Her expertise and neutrality would go a long way to getting Sam to approve the operation.

  “If he does, then fine, I’m in.” Carr rose and faced Malina. “I have one suggested change.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Get Jack to make a call to Ellerby and set up a meeting between him and me. I’ll get corroborating evidence out of him.”

  Malina had no doubt that he could, but it wasn’t him she was worried about. Okay, maybe she was. There was no way Simon wasn’t a smart, dangerous guy. He’d pulled off quite a few jobs over the years. Though most thieves weren’t violent, most were into burglary, not major thefts. Simon Ellerby was a different animal. “Jack couldn’t pull off a call like that,” she said. “He’d panic.”

  “His very real panic is what will make the sting work,” Carr insisted. “We get him to tell Simon that he wants out. He doesn’t have the nerves for the business, so he broke down and blabbed about the thefts to a colleague—me. He sets up a meeting between me and Simon. During that meeting, I offer to take Jack’s place.” When Malina stubbornly shook her head, he added mockingly, “If he looks at my background, he’ll easily believe I could fit right in with the gang.”

  Malina glared at him. He was going to use his past mistakes to close this case? More punishment and retribution?

  She didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  She felt as if agreeing would be sacrificing her lover for her job. Something she’d have done a few months ago without question. Now, the whole idea made her sick.

  “He’s right, Malina,” Andrea said, and Malina suddenly liked her less than before. “Jack’s testimony against Simon may not be enough. And what if losing Jack doesn’t spook Simon into doing something stupid?”

  Carr nodded. “If I could get Simon to spill details about the operation, however…”

  “I don’t like it.” And Malina liked even less the way her gut tightened. It wasn’t just the idea of a civilian going undercover with a major case on the line. She didn’t want her lover caught continually in a cycle of retribution. She didn’t want him thinking it was his sole duty to right this wrong. She didn’t want Carr within a hundred yards of Simon Ellerby.

  Sister Mary Katherine pursed her lips. “This addition to the plan does seem a little dangerous. You will be careful, won’t you, Carr?”

  AS CARR CLOSED the front door behind Andrea and Sister Mary Katherine, Malina rounded on him. “Were you trying to show your balls are bigger than mine or were you deliberate
ly trying to piss me off?”

  “Neither. My plan is better.”

  “You think a nun really understands the danger you’ll be in?” Malina stormed down the hall. “You think she has any idea that if you stumble over any word, phrase or gesture, Simon Ellerby could put a bullet in your head and dump you overboard from his cozy little yacht?”

  Finding her anger oddly comforting, Carr followed her. “I thought you said most thieves aren’t violent.”

  “He’s not most thieves, and he’ll probably have some weak-minded associate do the actual deed.”

  Much as that idea wasn’t remotely appealing, Carr knew he had to do this. He’d dragged all of them into this mess. It was only right he be there to wrap it up. “I won’t stumble.”

  Malina pointed at him. “Next case, Counselor, you’re riding the bench.”

  He grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, so you think you’ll be around beyond this case?”

  “Sure. This whole thing is going to blow up in my face, and I’ll be stuck here forever.” She caught the spasm of hurt that crossed his face. “No offense. But nuns, neighbors with thieving friends and an idiotic insurance agent whose biggest goal in life is to be a criminal? I’ve lost my mind thinking this is going to work.”

  “You forgot the morally ambiguous attorney in your cast of characters.”

  She sent him a defiant stare. “You’re not morally ambiguous.”

  Not anymore. He laid his cheek against the top of her head. The love he had for her was the reason he was fighting to get his life back. He hadn’t started out knowing she was there to fight for, but now that he did, he finally understood the power of redemption.

  “You shouldn’t worry about me,” he said. “I can handle this. I’m an expert at charm and lies—in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Her toughness finally gave way, and Malina clutched him against her. “I don’t want you to do it.”

  “But I need to do it.”

  “It’s part of your punishment?”

  “No. It’s me using my talents for something good and true, something that matters.” Her heart thumped against his chest, and he drew a bracing breath. She was everything. How could he not help her—and make up for the past a bit more in the process? “He’s after the cash and the excitement, you said earlier. I was Jack Rafton.”

  “Oh, please. You’ve never been that weak and stupid.”

  “I need to do this.”

  She said nothing for a moment. Then, “I’m going with you to meet with Simon.” When he frowned, she added, “You’re an expert at charm and lies. You’ll think of an excuse for me—or rather Sandy—to tag along. There’s no way you’re doing this without backup.”

  “I hadn’t planned to, but I was thinking I’d wear a wire and you’d be listening in, ready to burst onto the scene, armed and dangerous, if things got dicey.”

  “I’ll be with you, and a team of agents will be ready to burst onto the scene.”

  “Fine,” he said, though the idea that she would also be in danger didn’t exactly thrill him.

  Her job, however, involved considerable risk, and if he wanted to be with her, he was going to have to get used to that idea.

  “Oh, good. We’re even. How about a swim to burn off that tension?”

  His whole body went hard. “You fight dirty.”

  She slid her cheek across his chest, then sank her teeth, ever so lightly, into his earlobe. “I know you’re committed to the straight and narrow these days, but I bet you can remember how that works.”

  In answer, he swung her into his arms, strode out the back door and dumped her into the pool.

  He knelt on the smooth stone deck as she popped to the surface, spitting water from her mouth and rubbing it from her eyes. “Come to think of it,” he said, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “I do remember how to fight dirty.”

  Naturally, she jerked him in.

  By the time he found his feet, she’d already shed her sopping clothes and was plowing through the water making laps.

  Naturally, he chased her.

  He caught her and dragged her to the shallow end next to the waterfall that flowed over the rock formation that was part of the pool area landscaping.

  Their verbal battle had heightened his need, which he’d once considered impossible with Malina. In addition, a bone-deep fear of the upcoming plan had settled into his bones. Logically, he knew she could handle herself, but love wasn’t reasonable.

  Caging her against the side of the pool, he moved his mouth over her slick skin, glorying in the way she clutched him against her body. She angled her head, giving him better access to the delicate skin between her neck and shoulders.

  With her help, he managed to peel off his clothes. Thankfully, the vacuum-packed condoms had fared better than his pants and shirt.

  He teased her, pressing at the entrance of her body, and she moaned, grasping his hips. How long she’d need him was uncertain, but all he had was the moment.

  Knowing he couldn’t hold her forever, he pushed inside her, and she gasped, meeting his rhythm, and the panic of losing her burst through him with sudden intensity. Why couldn’t this go on? Why couldn’t she stay?

  Why wouldn’t she love him?

  Her body tensed, and he forced his dread aside. He sought only pleasure now—hers and his.

  What else did he have?

  “YOU DON’T trust your own judgment anymore?” Malina asked him as they sat, wrapped in a blanket, on the sofa beside the outdoor fireplace a while later. “You have to ask the Sister?”

  He kissed her temple, breathing in the clean, refreshing scent of her hair. “Not in some cases.”

  “I think that’s stupid.”

  Leave it to Malina to not hold back. “It’s not.”

  She craned her neck around to stare at him. “I’m also not crazy about you confronting Simon.”

  “I’ve been there from the beginning—even before you arrived, by the way. You won’t deny me the reward of seeing this through to the end.”

  “You’re not a trained agent. You could get hurt.”

  Smiling, he asked. “Worried about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Doesn’t mean there’s not a risk.”

  He stroked her cheek, taking great pleasure from the concerned look in her eyes. “I need this, Malina. You know I do.”

  “Fine,” she said, turning back toward the fire.

  “Are your parents proud of you?”

  She glanced briefly. “That’s some segue.”

  “Sorry. I’m a little rough around the edges lately.” As happy as she made him, in some ways he felt as if his life were falling apart, bit by bit, and while he recognized what was happening, he had no way to stop its progression. “Are they?”

  “I guess. Yes,” she admitted, somewhat reluctantly it seemed. “They don’t really understand why I do what I do, but they support me.”

  “What do they do?”

  “They run a surf shop.”

  For some reason, that made him smile. He’d imagined Malina with stern, exacting parents. “No kidding?”

  “My mom paints, too. I’ve tried to get her showings in a gallery in Honolulu, but she doesn’t think anybody would be interested in her work.”

  “So, she’s…”

  “The complete opposite of me, yes. She has zero ambition beyond keeping a leaky roof over her head. She wouldn’t know a pistol from a crossbow, or a con man from a tourist in flowered shorts. Who are sometimes the same person,” she added drily.

  The exasperated affection in her voice was so normal, so lovely, so completely different from his feelings about his own parents, it made Carr’s smile broaden.

  “They wanted more kids,” she continued, “but it never happened for them. These days, they bring in foster kids, which, on Kauai, usually turn out to be lost college students on spring break. Are your parents proud of you?”

 
“I have absolutely no idea.”

  That had her turning her whole body around to face him.

  Faced with that forceful gaze, he had a hard time pulling off a casual shrug. “They think I was crazy to leave Manhattan and come here.”

  “Didn’t they raise you here?”

  “No, my grandmother did. She passed away when I was in college.”

  “You weren’t raised by your parents,” she said slowly, as if needing clarification.

  “They never planned to have a child. My mother had family money, so they’ve always moved around Europe and the Caribbean.”

  Pinched annoyance drew her brows together. “They abandoned you.”

  He kissed away the wrinkles. “I was better off, believe me. But genetics do tell occasionally, so I’m assuming that’s where I get my selfishness.”

  “A soulless, money-grubbing uncle and idiotic, narcissistic parents. How’d you turn out so great?”

  He leaned in, nibbling at her lips. “You think I’m great?”

  She laid her hand in the center of his chest, pressing him back. “Seriously, that’s a pretty sucky childhood.”

  “Was it? I grew up in paradise and was raised by a woman who loved me. I always had the beach, friends, and plenty of material things.”

  “But, essentially, you were alone.”

  “True. You were, too. Do you feel deprived?”

  “No.” She sighed. “Though there were moments of teenage rebellion and back talk that I’m sure my parents wouldn’t be too anxious to revisit. We were talking about you.”

  “Actually, we initially began the discussion about you and whether or not your parents are proud of you. So we seem to have come full circle. Want to share some more childhood trauma?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “You sure you don’t want to talk about when you decided that bow marksmanship was preferable to waxing surfboards?”

  “Look, Counselor, you’re the one with damaged moral issues. And, can I add that you’re a lot more forthcoming when we’re having sex?”

  He moved his lips across her feather-soft cheek. “Oh, that can be easily arranged.”

  She pressed her finger into his chest. “The question is, why did you bring it up?”