drape swirled around her once more. She wriggled, colliding with the chair again. Cassy wrenched the gauzy fabric to one side in a frantic swipe. Off balance, she tumbled forward. Only pure dumb luck and the mahogany dining room table kept her from crashing to the floor.
Great. He’d never notice that. This was not an auspicious start to a life of crime. If she believed in omens, she’d turn around, climb back through that window and go home to bed. She could always get a decent lawyer in the morning.
She should have tried the authorities first. Maybe someone would have listened.
The prickly sensation that she was being watched would not go away. Her hand went to a side pocket and came out with the minuscule pocket flash. The attached key ring jingled as she moved.
If someone had been home, they’d have called the police by now. She’d made enough noise to wake the dead. Good thing she wasn’t planning on a life of crime. Her nerves couldn’t take much more of this.
Get it over with. Call out. See if someone was there.
GABE FLATTENED HIMSELF against the side of the house near the open window. He jumped when she spoke.
“Hello?”
Her scratchy voice was barely a whisper of sound.
“Is anybody home?”
And what would she do if he answered?
“Didn’t think so, but I wanted to be sure.”
Gabe shook his head. The woman was squirrel fodder. He’d been right to not waste time talking with her when she called.
The beam of her small flashlight swung away from the window. Gabe moved to where he could just see her vague outline. Her body radiated tension as she peered around the room. The resonant sound of the grandfather clock chiming the hour sent a tiny shriek past her lips.
“Idiot!”
On that, they were in complete agreement.
Muttering a profanity, she repositioned the chair at the table.
“No way am I going back out that window. When I leave tonight, I’m going out a door like any civilized burglar.”
Thoroughly amused, Gabe watched as Cassiopia moved the small ray of light to search out a path to the kitchen. It would almost be a shame to ruin her evening by revealing his presence.
HER FRAZZLED NERVES were playing tricks on her. There was no one here. Gabriel Lowe was at the gym. Based on past observations she should have an hour and a half before he returned.
Cassy picked her way carefully through the maze of furniture. Fortunately for her, his tastes ran to the stark. While the heavy old pieces were oversized, he hadn’t filled his home with bric-a-brac and clutter. And that seemed a little strange, given that he was supposed to be a sculptor. She’d expected to find dozens of ugly pieces scattered about.
Cassy shook her head. Who cared? The only thing that mattered was finding his home office, doing a quick search for what Beacher had found and getting away before either of them returned. She’d watched Gabriel enough to know that he spent most of his time in his basement. He even entertained Beacher down there, unless they sat around in the dark upstairs when he came to visit. Obviously, the basement was the place to start and she’d better hurry.
Finding a door next to the refrigerator, she reached for the handle. A mop stem hurled out of the darkness and cracked against her shoulder. Cassy leaped back, another small shriek escaping. Dislodged, a plastic pail rocked against the dustpan with a surprising clatter. The broom tipped over. She barely caught the handle in time to keep it from crashing to the floor.
HE WAS GOING TO HAVE to fix that wall mount for the mop and broom soon, Gabe thought, lips twitching. He’d waited until she’d stepped fully into the kitchen before slipping in through the open window without disturbing the drape or the chair. He’d cautiously taken a position near the hall entrance to the kitchen to see what she’d do next.
“I’m going to have a major heart attack before I even find the basement,” she muttered so softly he had to strain to hear her. “Gabriel Lowe is going to come home and find my dead body on his kitchen floor wearing stupid baggie gloves. Why didn’t I stop and pick up some latex ones?”
Stupid baggie gloves?
She replaced the mop, the broom and the pail and closed the door. The beam bobbled as she sent the anemic shaft of light toward the dining room entrance. He melted back before she shone it in the hall’s direction, then moved to observe her when the light swung away again.
Taking a cautious step around the refrigerator, she continued moving until she reached the basement door. She opened it gingerly and aimed the faint beam of light down the steps. He saw her shudder.
“This is so not a good idea.”
Gabe agreed. What was she doing here? Didn’t she realize his house was searched on a regular basis? The professionals could probably tell her the number of cans and the brand names of the soup in his kitchen cupboard on any given day. This had to have something to do with Beacher.
Gabe’s humor dissolved as Cassiopia gripped the smooth wood banister and started down the stairs. He waited for her to reach the third step from the bottom. The board creaked loudly. Her gasp was swallowed by the darkness.
He took a step back from the opening. Sure enough, she sent that stupid little light back up before swinging it in front of her again. What she expected a beam of that size to reveal he wasn’t sure. He probably hadn’t even needed to move.
“Think of the squeak as an early warning system,” she muttered.
That was exactly how he’d always looked at it. The narrow stairs were the only way in or out of the basement. He wondered if she knew that.
Using the flat of one hand and the weakening beam of light, she followed the curve of the wall to her right.
“If that man has a single rodent scurrying around down here I will come back and haunt him for all eternity.”
He skimmed down the stairs noiselessly in her wake.
REALIZING SHE’D FOUND another room, Cassy swept her hand over the inside wall until she located the light switch. Waiting for her eyes to adjust to what seemed like sudden brilliance, she gaped in amazement and stepped inside.
The windowless space was filled with shelves and columned pedestals of varying heights. Each held a bronze sculpture or series of small sculptures. Animals, especially lions and big cats, seemed to be his specialty. He’d infused an almost living essence in each subject. They were exquisitely detailed.
Her hand reached out to stroke a deer poised in flight. She stopped before actually touching the lifelike bronze figurine and shook her head reverently. Slowly, she moved about the room in awe. Gabriel Lowe was an artist in the truest sense of the word. His talent was nothing short of amazing.
She paused to squat before a pair of identical, nearly life-sized bronzes. The crouching lions perched on elaborate, ebony wood bases on the tiled floor.
“Absolutely
