Sweet Revenge

party.”
    She’d stolen them herself. Intrigued, Philip tossed the blossom aside and rose to pace. “Any problems?”
    “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Lauren did pop in just as I was finishing up, but she never looks twice at a servant.”
    “You’re a cool one.”
    “Is that a compliment?” She pushed out of the closet.
    “An observation. Since maids don’t tidy up at this time of night, your Plan B would be a bit awkward. What’s Plan A?”
    With a couple of quick flicks of her wrists she had her hair bound back in a band. “Through the vents. They’re narrow but adequate. There are openings in the ceilings of the bathroom.” She made a brisk, disinterested study of his build. “Tight squeeze for you.”
    “I’ve always preferred them.” He took out his pistol.
    “What are you doing?”
    He noted there wasn’t any fear in her voice, though he considered the pistol a particularly nasty snub-nosed .38. Nor was there any of the revulsion that so many women felt on seeing a weapon fashioned primarily to kill. Instead, he was reminded clearly of how perfect her aim had been, and how stunning the blow, when her “business associate” had attempted to change the rules.
    “I don’t carry weight on a job.” He opened the drawer to a table and set the gun inside.
    “Smart,” she said with a shrug. “Armed robbery carries a stiffer term.”
    “Stiffer than what? I’ve never had any intention of going to jail. I simply don’t care to have any blood on my stones.”
    She studied him again, with more interest. It wasn’t arrogance, she decided. He meant what he said. “If we’re going to do this, I’d like to do it quickly. It goes against the grain.”
    He knew exactly how she felt. He took out the necklaceand let the stones glimmer and bleed over his hands. “Pretty, aren’t they? I always leaned toward diamonds, but there’s something elegant about colored stones. You checked these, I suppose.”
    “Naturally.” She hesitated, then went on impulse. She knew what it was to hold pretty fortunes, and pretty desires, in her hands. “Would you like to see? I have my loupe.”
    It was tempting. Too tempting. “Not really worthwhile in this case.” With something like regret he replaced them and got down to business. “We’ll need a flashlight, extra gloves, and the key, of course.”
    Adrianne gathered up gear. “This isn’t the way I intended to spend the night.”
    “Think of it as a Christmas present to the St. Johns.”
    “They don’t deserve it. He’s a fool and she’s a mercenary opportunist.”
    Philip slipped the key into the deep pocket of his slacks. “People who live in glass houses.”
    Taking her arm, he led her out.
    There was a doorway at the side of the El Grande. Down a short flight of concrete steps, it was built into the wall more for serviceability than for style. Paying guests would have no use for it. In this way, the housekeeping and maintenance crews could enter the hotel without passing through the elegant lobby.
    The Dumpster for garbage was a few feet away. The lid was closed, but couldn’t contain the smell the heat had intensified. It carried on the breeze strongly enough to make the eyes water.
    “Almost as seductive as Rose’s perfume,” Philip commented. “You have a room here. Why not follow the vents from there?”
    “I chose this time because there are a lot of pockets to be picked at the El Grande. It’s entirely possible there’ll be more thefts. If and when there’s an investigation, I’d rather they start from here than from inside.”
    “An ounce of prevention?” he asked, then examined Adrianne’s tools when she drew them out. “Very nice. Surgical steel?”
    “Of course.”
    “Allow me.”
    He chose a pick and dealt handily with the lock. Adrianne saw just how handily from her view over his shoulder. He all but felt the lock open, ear tilted toward it, fingers moving as delicately as a virtuoso’s on a violin. She’d always considered herself an excellent locksmith, but had to admit, at least to herself, that he was better.
    “How long have you been out of the business?”
    “Five years. Nearly.” He replaced her pick before pushing the door open.
    “You haven’t lost your touch.”
    “Thanks.”
    Together they entered the bowels of the hotel. It was damp and smelted it, but it was a reprieve from the garbage. Adrianne played her light along the plain concrete floor and walls. Someone had tacked up a poster of what