was a steeliness in Lucas’s voice that had Tracker withdrawing his hand from Chance’s grasp.
“He took me aside and asked me not to give away his cover,” Lucas said. Then he turned to Chance. “Now, I want an uncut, uncensored version of who you’re working for, and if my sister is involved.”
“I work for a group of insurance companies that want to recover some stolen artifacts from an archeological find in Turkey, most importantly three rare coins. They were in England when they were stolen, and it’s caused quite an international stir. Various investigative agencies including Interpol and the feds have concluded that the stuff’s being brought into this country cleverly concealed in shipments to selected commercial locations. Sophie’s shop had been identified as warranting close surveillance.”
“How long has she been a target of the investigation?” Lucas asked.
“For about a month and a half. That’s when I became the new manager of the art gallery next to her shop. A month ago we got our first big break in the case. An operative on this side got close enough to the head guy to actually buy a piece we believe contained one of the coins. She purchased it at One of a Kind, and she was supposed to deliver it in person to her boss.”
“Supposed to?” Tracker’s eyes narrowed.
“Five minutes after she left the shop, she was the victim of a hit-and-run driver. Two men came out of nowhere. One pushed her into an oncoming car, the other took the package and then both ran.”
“And you’ve waited a month to let me know my sister might be in mortal danger?”
Chance switched his gaze to Lucas. “I swear I didn’t put Sophie together with you until I walked in here tonight. None of us went by our real names when we worked together. Hell, I didn’t even know you had a sister.”
Everything Chance said was true enough. The kind of operations they’d worked on never appeared in the newspapers, and real names were never mentioned.
“And now you’ve decided to date her?” Tracker asked, silently cursing himself. He’d focused his time and the time of his staff checking out the men Sophie went out with even casually. If she’d gone out with Chance sooner, he’d have had a photo of the man standing in front of him, and he’d have known over a month ago that something was up.
Once again, Chance raised his hands, but this time he grinned. “Hey, I’m not her date tonight. I’m just her tag-along gay friend.”
“You’re not gay,” Tracker said.
Chance shrugged. “It’s part of my cover. Telling a woman you’re gay is the quickest way to lower barriers short of taking her to bed—and that’s a little complicated if she’s one of your prime suspects.”
For a moment, Tracker didn’t say a word. He had to get a grip. Anger wasn’t going to help—nor was fear. “Sophie’s not involved in smuggling anything.”
“I eliminated her as soon as I got to know her. She doesn’t have a dishonest bone in her body. And she loves that shop of hers too much to risk it by getting involved in something like this.” Chance’s eyes narrowed and grew colder. “But someone on this side is funneling the goods to the right person.”
“Do you suspect Noah Danforth, her assistant?” Lucas asked.
“It could be him,” Chance replied. “Or it could be any one of her regular customers. She makes them feel like family. All it would take was a word that they were looking for a particular piece, and she’d see that it was set aside. Noah would do the same.”
“So the only thing you really know is that anyone who gets close to the head guy ends up dead.” Lucas turned to Tracker. “I want her out of that shop until the investigation is over.”
“That won’t necessarily keep her safe,” Chance said quickly. “Whoever is behind this is very clever. His nickname is ‘Puppet Master’ because he stays in the background and just pulls the strings. We got close to him three months ago when he shipped the first of the coins. He used a small shop in Connecticut, and the owner was killed in a fire that destroyed his shop. If this guy gets even a hint that Sophie knows anything, she could still be in mortal danger. The only way to really keep her safe is to find out who’s behind this.”
Tracker paced to the French doors. The hell of it was Chance was making sense. From the sounds of it, the bastard behind the smuggling ring didn’t leave any loose ends that could be traced back to him.
“I’ll cancel my trip,” Lucas said.
“No.” Tracker turned to face him. “If you do, Sophie will know something is wrong. And so will Mac.”
“It should all be over in the next week,” Chance said. “Sophie has a shipment due in tomorrow, and the last of the three coins is supposed to be on it. Together, they’re worth more than they are apart. We’re pretty sure that the first coin went to the shop in Connecticut. The second one was picked up by the woman who was hit and killed after she left Sophie’s store. I’ve already offered to help Sophie unpack the delivery and arrange the pieces in the shop. Whoever is behind this will move quickly. All we have to do is trace the piece containing the coin to the buyer, and we’ll have our man.”
Through the glass of the French doors, Tracker’s eyes went unerringly to one couple on the dance floor. Sophie was dancing with John Landry. Silently, he cursed himself. He’d missed Sophie’s growing friendship with the gallery owner, Carter Mitchell. What had he overlooked in her relationship with John Landry?
“What about this Landry fellow?” Tracker asked. “Sophie met him on her last trip to England.”
“He’s clean. I checked him out myself.”
Tracker turned back to Lucas. “I’ll be there, too, when she unpacks the shipment.”
“How? You can’t do anything to alert her to what’s going on. The worst thing that could happen is for her to start acting strangely with Danforth or her customers,” Chance warned.
“I won’t alert her,” Tracker promised.
“She’s not an easy woman to fool,” Lucas said.
“I’ll figure something out,” Tracker said. “And she’ll never suspect a thing.” Then he turned back to Chance. “Right now I want you to fill me in on everything, including a list of your top suspects.”
3
SOPHIE HATED DUMPING anyone. She’d suffered enough rejection in her own life to know how much it hurt. But she ran the risk of hurting John Landry even more if she wasn’t honest with him. That’s what she’d been telling herself as she’d avoided him for the two hours since she’d left Mac’s bedroom. But even now, dancing with him, she was putting off the inevitable moment.
“Sophie?”
“Hmm?” It didn’t help one bit that she could feel Tracker’s gaze on the back of her neck. She hadn’t actually seen him since she and Mac had left the dance floor hours ago, but now the tension that she felt whenever he was near was back in full force. He was watching her dance with John Landry. The certainty of that gave her spirits a little lift, and she was very tempted to give him something to watch. But she couldn’t flirt with John
