Page 13 of Benjamin and the Thief

“We need more champagne,” one of the waiters said as he entered the kitchen with a tray of empty glasses. “I had no idea rich people drink so much!”

Catalina smiled. “Guess if it’s free, everybody drinks.” She pointed to a tray. “Take that tray. I’ll pour some more in a while. But I need a restroom break. Back in a few minutes.”

She hoped that a few minutes was all she needed. She walked with purpose, while furtively assessing her surroundings. She’d played this through in her mind many times, knowing that she had to be fast without looking suspicious. Even though this was her first time in the Preston mansion, she knew its layout by heart. There were two staircases: one in the front part of the house and one in the back closest to the kitchen. She headed for that staircase, but as she came around the corner, she saw instantly that a young woman in a blue cocktail dress stood there. She, too, sported an earpiece.

Security. Change of plans.

Without missing a step, she continued down the hall toward the front of the house, where the other staircase was located. She noticed a tall man standing at the open entrance door with his back to her, a clipboard in his hand. It appeared that he was welcoming more guests.

An odd tingling sensation that normally meant her sixth sense was trying to tell her something spread on her nape, but she ignored it. It was just nerves and didn’t mean that anything was wrong. Sometimes her sixth sense could be downright annoying.

With the security guard’s back turned, this was her chance.

Swiftly, she turned to the stairs and climbed them as if she had every right to do so. Despite her cool outward composure, her heart thundered in her ears, and her palms were sweaty. She refrained from brushing them over her skirt until she reached the second-floor landing and turned to the right, out of sight of anyone who was downstairs.

She let out a breath, although she knew that the danger wasn’t over yet. The hard part was still ahead of her. She’d trained for this. She’d learned everything she could to help her with her endeavor. Now she needed to keep calm and stick to her plan. No other thoughts were allowed to distract her. And no amount of fear would stop her. She had come too far already. She couldn’t give up now.

“Enjoy your evening,” Benjamin said to the latecomers.

As the couple made their way into the salon, Benjamin turned back just in time to see a movement on the top of the stairs. He caught a glimpse of a woman walking upstairs. It wasn’t one of the guests looking for a bathroom, because he’d seen all the female guests arriving, and they all wore elegant gowns. The woman just disappearing around the bend on the second floor wore a black skirt like the female catering staff.

Knowing that the temporary staff was not allowed on the upper floors, he went to investigate. The lush carpet swallowed the sound of his footsteps as he rushed upstairs. On the landing, he turned in the same direction the woman had taken. There were several doors along the empty corridor. All of them were closed, and there was no telling which room the woman had entered. He inhaled deeply, trying to pick up the woman’s scent, but far too much perfume hung in the air, and he recognized it as belonging to Elizabeth Preston.

As quietly as possible, he turned the doorknob of the first room he reached and opened the door a few inches, just enough so he could peer inside. No sound came from the room, and he opened the door wider. It was the home office, and it was empty. Benjamin closed the door just as quietly, then moved on to the next room. It was one of the many guest rooms. He quickly entered, then checked the ensuite bathroom. It too was empty. He left the room again and went to the last door on this side of the corridor.

Again, he turned the doorknob quietly and inched the door open. The perfume smell was the strongest here, which he’d expected: this was the Prestons’ master bedroom. At first glance, the room was empty, but he could hear faint sounds coming from the walk-in closet whose doors stood open. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see who was in the closet, but since he’d just seen the Prestons downstairs, it had to be a member of the catering staff he’d seen sneaking upstairs.

He entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him without a sound, then flicked the lock in case whoever was here managed to get past him. It would give him an extra one or two seconds to catch the intruder should she be able to reach the door.

Holding his breath so he could approach soundlessly, he took several steps toward the walk-in closet until he could see inside. It was indeed a female catering staff member. With her back to him, her long brown hair cascading over her back, she hadn’t heard him yet. He ran his eyes over her, checking for weapons. She had none. At the same time, he noticed her toned legs and her perfect hips and petite waist, reminding him instantly of the previous night, when he had admired similar perfect proportions on a woman. He pushed the thoughts aside. This was neither the place nor the time for such comparisons.

He squared his stance, ready for the confrontation. This was the part of his job he liked most: catching criminals.

“Can I help with anything, Miss?”

A gasp, and she whirled around on her heel, eyes widened in utter shock. He had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But no, he was seeing clearly. And he wasn’t pleased with what he saw. Not one bit.

He recognized her eyes first, even though they were hidden behind a pair of hideous black-rimmed glasses she didn’t need. And the brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders? It wasn’t hers, unless some wonder shampoo could turn her pixie haircut into a long mane overnight, while also changing its color from black to brown. Her expression said everything he needed to know: he’d caught her in the middle of doing something she shouldn’t. Something illegal.

He looked past her to see what he’d interrupted and saw a medium-sized safe that was built into the wall. It had two mechanisms by which it could be opened: a key or the number lock. It wasn’t a particularly sophisticated safe from what he could see, which surprised him. From a couple like the Prestons who’d requested security for a society party, he’d expected something with a higher security rating.

“Catalina,” he finally pressed out. “That explains your note. Now I can see why your life is complicated.”

“Benjamin, what are you doing here?”

“I have a better question: what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just looking for a scarf for Mrs. Preston. She sent me up to get one.”

If he hadn’t already spotted the tools she was trying to conceal in her right hand, he might have even believed her. He snatched her hand by the wrist, so she couldn’t hide the contents in her palm any longer.

“And you needed lockpicks for that?”

“Lockpicks? Those aren’t lockpicks.”

He’d seen and used plenty of lockpicks, and there was no mistaking what she held in her hand.

Catalina gave off a nervous laugh. “Those are clips for my hair. To hold it back, you know?”