Perfect Scoundrels
Page 10

He walked with more purpose than his classmates, stood a little straighter. And when he saw her, he didn’t even break stride.
“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t come all the way to Belgium for an education?” Nick pulled the straps of his backpack over his shoulders and squinted against the sun that reflected off the gold buttons on his private-school blazer.
“Oh, I’m definitely here to learn.” Kat couldn’t help but smirk as she stood and sidled closer.
“I’m sure you are.” Nick gave a wry laugh. “Do I have to ask how you found me?”
“This is the best international school in Brussels—all the European Union bigwigs send their kids here. Congratulations on your mom’s promotion, by the way. Interpol Liaison to the EU, very fancy.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Of course she hates it. Too desk-job-y.”
“I’ll tell my dad. I’m sure he’ll send his condolences.”
“I’m sure he will.”
Kat had to wonder for a minute what that would feel like—homework and uniforms, walks home with nice boys offering to carry your bag. That was her life once. Almost. But Hale had gotten her kicked out of the Colgan School, pulled her back into her own world, just like now he’d been pulled back into his.
“So why are you here, Kat?” Nick asked.
“Maybe I was craving waffles.”
“Kat…” He let her name draw out. “I’m pretty sure this is the part where you tell me you need my help to steal an emerald.” He laughed. “Or rob the Henley…”
Kat’s face stayed blank, but something in her eyes must have shifted, because Nick tensed.
“No.” It was like he’d read her mind, because he was already shaking his head, saying, “No. No. No. Just—”
“Hear me out, Nick.”
She touched his arm, but he jerked away. “Are you crazy?” he said. “No. Strike that. I know you’re crazy, but I didn’t know you had a death wish.”
“It’s not what it sounds like.”
“It never is with you, is it? And that’s the problem.”
“That’s hilarious coming from you.” Kat rolled her eyes. “I remember a time when you couldn’t wait to rob the Henley with me. Don’t you? Maybe I should ask your mother about it.”
“That’s probably not a good idea, Kat. She might be too busy trying to arrest your father.”
Kat started to fire back, but then stopped. Her breath slowed and she looked up at him. “Why are we fighting?”
He laughed a little. “I honestly have no idea.”
“Okay,” she said. “As long as I’m not the only one.”
They walked together down the cobblestone street, silent for a while until Kat said, “So, school, huh?”
“You know, these days a lot of teenagers are experimenting with formal education.”
“It’s a regular epidemic.”
Nick gave a slow, wide grin. “That’s kind of the idea.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking. “So, where is he?”
Kat stopped cold on the street, and Nick guessed the truth.
“Wait. Are you telling me that you intend to rob the Henley—again—without Hale?” He sounded both confused and impressed.
“I’m doing it for Hale.”
Nick laughed. “You mean there’s something at the Henley W. W. Hale the Fifth can’t buy?”
“It’s complicated.”
“What else is new?” He looked off into the distance. “What do you need?”
“A blind spot. And someplace with no guard access overnight.”
“The Basil E. Frankweiler?” he asked with a grin. “Oh, Kat. You are the craziest genius I know.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, will you help me?”
“I would if I could, but my mom is a glorified bureaucrat now. She wouldn’t have that kind of information.”
“Come on, Nick. You and I both know that all the world’s museums keep their security specs on file with Interpol.”
“And Kat, you and I both know we’re not at Interpol.”
“You mean to tell me the official Interpol Liaison to the European Union doesn’t have database access?”
He couldn’t tell her that, and she knew it. So Nick shifted his backpack and started down the sidewalk. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The airport outside of Brussels was busy, but not busy enough, in Kat’s opinion. She kept her bag on her lap and her gaze on the tarmac. At the other end of the terminal a flight was being boarded for New York, and Kat was half tempted to catch it—to run all the way back if she had to, and beg Hale to forgive her; but forgive her for what, she didn’t exactly know.
“Mademoiselle McMurray,” the gate agent said, but Kat didn’t look up. Heavy gray clouds gathered outside, and Kat was trying not to think about the turbulence; her stomach was already lurching up and down. She’d felt queasy for days.
“Mademoiselle?” the woman said again, and Kat suddenly remembered that McMurray was the name on her passport. “We’re boarding.” The woman spoke English with a heavy French accent.
“Merci,” Kat told her, then picked up her bag, handed over her ticket, and joined the long line of passengers crossing through the glass doors and heading toward the plane.
As soon as she stepped outside, the damp breeze hit Kat like a slap. Mist was heavy in the air, and she could feel her short black hair beginning to frizz as it blew across her face, clinging to her cheeks. For a second, Kat thought the wind was howling, that her mind was playing tricks on her when she heard somebody yell, “Kat! Wait!”
The rain was growing heavy, and Kat could see nothing but a dark shadow running from the airport doors toward her. “Hale?” Kat asked. But no. The shape was wrong. The voice was off.
“Wait!” Nick yelled. He was almost panting when he came to a stop beside her. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” Kat told him.
“I’m glad I caught you. I didn’t want you to leave before I could give you your present.” He held up a long plastic tube sealed at each end, and Kat’s stomach flipped again.
“Is that…”
“Complete blueprints for the Henley?” he asked with a wink. “Oh, yeah.”
“Hard copies, Nick? How old-fashioned.”
“I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy.”
And then Kat couldn’t joke anymore. She was all out of tease when she said, “Thanks, Nick. For this. I owe you.”
“I’m not sure you do.”
“Okay. Hale owes you. I’ll take good care of them for—”
Kat reached for the tube, but Nick pulled the blueprints out of her grasp. “Not so fast. I’m coming with them.”
He flashed a boarding pass of his own, Brussels to London one-way.
“You don’t have to do that, Nick. I know you’ve got school and stuff,” Kat said. “We’ll be fine without—”
“Oh, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this so that these never have a chance to get back to your uncle. Or your father. I’m sentimental, Kat, not suicidal.” He eyed her. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“I have problems, Nick. But you aren’t one of them.” She headed for the plane and yelled over her shoulder, “Come on.”
Chapter 14
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Kat sat at the front of the room, the complete blueprints of the Henley taped to the windows, standing between her and that million-dollar view. The lights of London bled through the thin paper, and it was like the documents were on fire. Kat only wished they didn’t feel quite so radioactive.
“Are you sure we can’t take those off your hands when we’re finished, Nick my boy?” Hamish asked with a nod.
Nick crossed his arms. “I’m sure.”
“But—” Angus started, but Kat cut him off.
“Guys, Nick didn’t have to do this. For us. Or for Hale.” She thought for a second about the animosity that had always coursed between the two of them, but didn’t linger on the question of why Nick had come. She was simply glad he had.
“In short,” she went on, “we owe him.”
“Hear, hear.” Hamish raised a glass of something they had found in Carlos’s refrigerator. “To Nick! And his very hot mum!”
“Thanks,” Nick said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it.
“So if there aren’t any questions…” Kat let the words draw out. She scanned the room, looking at the eager faces staring back at her. They would have done anything—gone anywhere—for her or for Hale. She felt a little dizzy with the knowledge that so much was riding on her not making any mistakes.
“Okay. Then I guess we’re good.”
They all got up to go, but Kat didn’t move. She just sat, staring.
“What’s the matter, Kitty?” Gabrielle threw open the door to the big Sub-Zero fridge and peered inside. “Cat got your tongue?”
Kat didn’t say a thing.
“If you’re worried about the timing…”
“Are we doing the right thing, Gabrielle?” Kat blurted, finally finding the words she hadn’t had the courage to say.
“Personally, I think the Wind in the Willows is a little dated, but if Simon says the cameras are—”
“Not the job. Is this…are we doing the right thing?”
“You’ve got to tell him.” Gabrielle’s tone was pointed, and Kat didn’t ask who “he” was. She didn’t have to.
She just looked down at the hardwood floor and said, “I know.”
“It’s his family, and he has the right to know.”
“I know,” Kat said again.
“So why haven’t you told him?”
“I don’t know, okay? The reading of the will was so crazy, and then I was going to… I was,” she said again, stronger, when Gabrielle gave her a skeptical look. “But what if Marcus is wrong?”
“He’s not,” Gabrielle said, certain.
“What if he is, Gabrielle? You didn’t see Hale. You didn’t hear him. His grandmother is the only person in his family he has ever cared about, and now she’s gone, but he’s got her company. So it’s like he’s got a piece of her. If we’re right about this… If we’re right, it’s going to be like losing her all over again.”
“So it’s better to let him go into this—whatever it is—blind? It’s better to let him be somebody’s mark?”
Kat knew it was her turn to speak—to say something to prove her cousin wrong. But the words didn’t come, and Kat just sat there.
“He deserves to know,” Gabrielle said again.
“You’re right. He does. But something about this…scares me.”
Gabrielle stepped back and crossed her arms, surveyed her cousin carefully. “Are you scared, or are you angry?”