alternative?” he interjected the father and daughter crosstalk.
“What could a rat like you have to offer?” Glynis wanted to know.
“Let’s hear the man out,” suggested her father, and he mentally commended the man for his sangfroid.
“I’m sure that Rostislav would never want to return the pearls if you asked him, or even if I did,” he began.
“So what good would that do us?” demanded Glynis.
“But perhaps there are other ways of obtaining the desired object,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He had to admit that the presence of the gun aimed at his head made his brain work a little faster than usual. But even if he hadn’t been under the threat of imminent death, he still would have found the idea that had suddenly come to him a real pippin.
“What ways? Speak, man, speak!” urged Glynis.
Christ. The woman was so bossy! He wondered if she was married. If so, he would love to see the man who could stand to live with this harridan of her sex.
“I urge you to come to the point, Mr. Spencer,” interjected Sir Hugh. “Glynis has never been very good with delays.”
“You could task someone to retrieve the pearls from Rostislav Mamykin the old-fashioned way.” He spread his arms when he stared into nonplussed eyes. “By purloining them, of course. Theft. Robbery. You simply pay someone to steal them back.”
The father leaned back in his chair, visibly intrigued. “There is a certain irony in the plan that I can’t help but admire.”
But Glynis shook her blond curls adamantly, and he could see from the way she pursed her lips that she wasn’t smitten with the idea. And if her expression hadn’t alerted him of her strong opinion on the matter, her next words did. “I don’t believe in crime. For goodness’ sake, I’m a cop! How can I plan a burglary? It’s simply out of the question. Absolutely impossible.”
“Do it for Mama, honey,” spoke her father gently. “Bend your principles this one time. Think of all the good it would do. And besides, it’s not as if it’s really stealing. One can’t call stealing from a thief a crime. You’d simply be righting a wrong.”
“But going about it all wrong,” she countered, swinging around to face the author of her being. “How can I live with myself if I go about breaking into people’s homes to steal priceless gems? I’d be going against every principle I believe in. Every oath I ever swore. And, what’s more, if this ever came out, I’d be finished. I’d never work in law enforcement again. Not to mention I’d spend the rest of my life in jail.”
“Not the rest of your life,” Thomas countered easily. “You’d probably be out and about in five years. Tops.”
When she swung that gun back at him, he mimicked locking his lips and throwing away the key. He’d come to realize she wasn’t a woman to be trifled with.
It was obvious she was at war with herself, then suddenly seemed to have an idea. He noticed from the way her liquid eyes flashed. “You know, I can’t possibly go through with such a scheme. I mean, I can’t condone it under any circumstance, but you could.”
Thomas looked up to find that the ‘you’ she was referring to was, in fact, him. “Mh?” he inquired.
She emphasized her words with the gun. A very unnerving habit. “ You’re the one who stole the damn necklace in the first place; you should be the one getting it back!”
“For the right price, I’d certainly be willing—” At the sound of her teeth grinding and the twitch of her gun hand, he amended his speech. “I would most certainly be prepared to look deeply into the matter. Free of charge. Naturally.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust you,” she told him as if she’d just arrived at that conclusion.
“Well, I can’t very well blame you,” he returned amiably. “However, I can assure you I will do everything in my power to—”
Her eyes narrowed even more, and were now mere slits. “No, I mean, I