Page 55 of Hot Pursuit
“Suddenly, it all becomes clear,” he mused darkly.
Jo looked up, finding those baby-blues already fixed on her, the hottest part of the flame.Ignorance. Feign ignorance.“What do you mean?”
“Jo,” Nate said, a hint of disappointment in his tone that she’d gone the route of playing dumb. “I’ve been wondering for weeks why the gala, what was so important here? We scoured the auction list, researched each item, brought in art experts to see if there was a hidden gem. But no, all this time, it’s been about the house itself, not the event. The event was just a way inside. A way to get to this.” He nudged his chin toward the painting. “I can’t believe we didn’t know it was here.”
You didn’t know because the homeowner lent the painting to a museum and conveniently forgot to mention to the FBI that it would be returned in time for the gala. A simple slip of the mind—at least, that’s what he’ll say if questioned. Oh, and that I must have hacked his private emails because there’s no other way I could’ve known his plans.Of course, she couldn’t tell Nate that. Instead, Jo raised her brows and held up her hands, mocking the truth he’d uncovered. “You got me. Sound the alarms. Bring in the handcuffs. Arrest me, if you’re so sure.”
He narrowed his eyes at the blasé tone. “Why else would you be here?”
“Did you happen to see the name of the charity hosting the event?”
Jo could see the wheels turning in the backs of his eyes. “The American Cancer Alliance.”
“Ding, ding, ding,” she chimed. “And in all your efforts, did the FBI happen to notice that I was invited to this event, plain and simple? I never hacked my way in. I didn’t have to.”
“Your father is a donor,” he said, eyes widening.
Jo’s chest tightened. Why was the truth so easy to spin? “He has been for ten years. Under a false name, of course. Though I have to admit, I’m surprised the agency never managed to crack his code. Campbell was my mother’s maiden name.”
“Your mother…” Nate trailed off, sympathy flashing in his eyes as the truth hit. His mouth parted slightly, yet no words came out.
Yes, her father was a donor. Yes, they’d given money ever since her mother had passed away. Yes, she’d been invited to the event. And yes, the only reason she was here was because it was the perfect cover for the true purpose of the night. Not that she’d tell Nate that. Even thinking it brought a wave of nausea out of hiding, self-induced disgust. The last thing she wanted was for him to see the ugly side to her. Jo liked the way Nate looked at her, as though she were an answer to his every problem—not the problem itself.
She lifted her glass to her lips, letting another gush of champagne wipe the discomfort knotting her insides away, letting the fizzing liquid spin her dizzy. Jo tilted her head back and downed it, then discarded the empty glass on a tray as a waiter walked by. Nate put his half-finished one beside hers.
“Jo—”
She pressed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. “I’m not really in the mood to talk, Nate.”
And she wasn’t.
Not when everything spilling from her lips was lie after lie after lie. Or even worse, the truth. Every word brought them closer together and farther apart. Her mind and her heart were at war, two opposite forces tugging and tugging against each other, fighting for dominance.
Jowasthere for the Degas.
She could never tell Nate that.
She’d already done a sweep of the entire townhouse, walking the building, making sure the blueprints she’d studied had been accurate, making sure every door and every window was exactly where she’d thought it would be.
She could never tell him that either.
She’d taken a moment to powder her nose in the restroom, using the small tablet hidden in her purse to hack into the security system and plant the final two remaining bugs in place, giving her full access to every electronic in the house—every camera, every door sensor, every motion detector.
Another thing Nate could never know.
But she’d also put a check for twenty thousand dollars in the donation box downstairs, signed anonymous, in honor of her mother. And bid outrageously high on the luxury European vacation available in the silent auction. And found the item she and her father had sent for the event, a lovely three-strand pearl necklace he’d bought for her mother but had never been able to give her. Their twentieth anniversary had been two weeks after she’d passed. There was other jewelry of her mother’s Jo would never dream of parting with, but that one piece had always been too painful to wear. The least she could do was give it to a good cause.
But Jo would never tell Nate any of that, even though she could. Because she didn’t want him to look at her like the hero she knew she wasn’t. His eyes already shone too bright, so full of hope she had to look away.
He slipped his fingers through hers.
“Then how about a dance instead?”
The music had hardly registered before, but now that Nate mentioned it, she became acutely aware of the sound. Soft orchestral strains filled the room, slow and romantic. A few couples had stepped from the outskirts to gently sway hand in hand.
“Nate,” Jo said, voice thick.
They were entering dangerous territory.
