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After the beef Wellington had been served, he leaned forward, “Aren’t you going to ask me about what happened at the museum?”
“I suppose I thought if it was interesting, and you could talk about it, you would tell me,” she answered noncommittally.
“It seems that while you were in the museum, and both Pennington and the receptionist thought you were in Pennington’s office, the Grenadine Necklace was stolen just moments before we ran into each other.”
“You don’t say,” she said, taking a bite of the beef Wellington. “This is delicious. So, somebody nabbed it in broad daylight?”
He nodded. He had to give it to her, she was a cool customer. “There was a power fluctuation that left the museum without any kind of electricity for about ninety seconds. We think that disruption was caused by an EMP…”
“EMP?” she asked.
“Yes, an electromagnetic pulse. Doesn’t really hurt anything, just overwhelms systems, causing them to reset and then come back online. By the time my people got to the case with the necklace, someone had cut a hole in the back and swapped out a cheap imitation for the real thing, and then presumably just walked out.”
“That was pretty brazen. I thought jewel thieves only worked at night.”
“Most do, but brazen is the right word. I suspect whoever it was knew a lot about the security system. I think I might have mentioned, we’ve been detecting cyber encroachments on the system for weeks, and we thought we had them shut out. I think when they figured out they couldn’t come at us with some high-end hack, they decided to go old school. It was brazen and brilliant.”
“You almost sound like you admire him.”
“Not what he does, but I think there’s a greater goal than money behind it. Like we talked about at lunch, I don’t like vigilante kinds of justice, but it doesn’t mean I don’t respect the reason they’re doing it.”
“So, in your mind, the ends don’t justify the means.”
“Rarely, if ever.”
“What if someone has no recourse?”
“There’s always another recourse—a legal one. It might be expensive and time consuming, but what makes it right for one person to steal and not another?”
“I guess that’s just something we will never agree about. I think certain wrongs need to be righted, and sometimes the only way, and I do mean theonlyway for a person to get justice, is if either they or someone else seizes it from those in power. I probably should get back to my place. Will you be staying in London?”
“Would you like it if I stayed in London?”
“And back to being an arrogant prick.” She shook her head. “Just because I asked you a friendly question doesn’t mean I’m dying to go to bed with you.”
“God, I hope not. Necrophilia has never been an interest of mine. But I would very much like to take you to bed.”
She stood up, laying her napkin on her plate. “And if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.”
“Is that how your granda afforded your riding career? By wishing it so?”
She extended her hand. “Thank you for dinner, Fletch. I hope you find what it is you want.”
Before he could even get up, she’d spun on her heel and headed out the door. He hurried after her, leaving a cash gratuity on the table and stopping long enough to have the dinner charged to his room.
“Claire, wait up,” he called after her as she pushed through the door. He wasn’t long after her and was able to hail a cab. “I don’t know about your grandfather, but mine taught me how to treat a lady when you take her to dinner.”
“Really? Your grandfather thought you should invite her to the hotel’s fancy restaurant and then take her to your room?”
He chuckled. “Point taken. My apologies if I offended your sensibilities.”
As the cab pulled in to take her home, Fletch pulled her close but gave her a gentlemanly kiss on the lips. When he pulled back, he saw the look of disappointment and irritation flash through her eyes. He helped her into the cab and then on impulse, followed her in.
“Excuse me?” she asked, feigning indignation, but not very well.
“Sweetheart, I would make every excuse for you.”
“Not what I meant, and you know it. Why did you get in the cab with me?”
