Perfect Scoundrels (Heist Society #3)(44)

Just then, Marcus took the ruler and struck Eddie in the stomach. “Hale men speak from the diaphragm!”

Hale nodded. “I definitely like it.”

Kat leaned her elbows on the table, and for the first time, noticed the piles that were collected there.

Old family albums lay spread across the surface. Black-and-white photos had been pulled from the pages, and Kat flipped through them one by one, staring down at the face of the same young man. Tall and strong and golden.

Standing among a tribe in Kenya, a lion at his feet. Posing with a team of dogs in the blowing snow at the top of the world. On a raft in the Amazon. Climbing K2.

Kat looked from the young man in the picture to the boy who sat beside her, and she wondered if trying to steal a more exciting life might be at least a little bit genetic.

“Here,” Marianne said. “Watch this. See the way Reginald carries himself?”

Suddenly, the lights went out and the beam of a projector was slicing through the room, splashing across a white wall, beneath high, dingy windows. Watching, Kat forgot what century—much less what year—they were in, because on the screen it was the Hamptons in summer. There were girls in tennis whites and men in seersucker suits. Slowly, the camera panned across a wide lawn, taking in the smiling faces and waving hands. There was an undeniable resemblance among them all, and Kat, who had a long line of “relatives” who didn’t share the same blood, had to remind herself that there are some families that do have the same smile—the same eyes.

Then she remembered why they seemed so familiar, and she turned to take in the boy beside her. But it was like Hale had forgotten she was there. He was staring at the flickering image, being pulled into a memory that wasn’t his own.

“That’s her,” he whispered.

“Who?” Kat asked.

He pointed. “Hazel. That’s her.”

There were three young women on the screen, but one stood apart from the group. She kept her hands intertwined, like someone who had been invited—but not born—inside the family.

Kat watched her smile and laugh. The wind blew through her hair, and it was easy for Kat to imagine the cool breeze and warm sun on the woman’s skin, but she wasn’t truly comfortable there on that sunny stretch of lawn.

“Which one is Reginald?” Kat pointed back to the screen.

“In the hat,” Hale said just as, in the video, the long-lost uncle slapped the recently departed grandmother on the butt.

“See,” Marianne told Eddie. “Vigor!”

“Yes, Edward,” Marcus agreed. “Do you think you can capture that?”

But Kat didn’t listen for the answer. She was too entranced by the woman on the screen. “She was beautiful.”

Hale tilted his head. “She was lonely.”

Kat knew that he was right. She was also certain that he knew the feeling. The Hale name was his birthright and legacy, but like his grandmother, he had never truly belonged.

Kat watched Hale’s face change and knew that the sadness he had carried since the funeral was back. He wasn’t okay. She saw it in him, lingering just under the surface, waiting to break free.

There were flash cards with photos of distant relatives, a quiz about the family pets. Kat had been by Hale’s side almost constantly for over two years, but she learned more about his family in those four hours than she had ever even suspected before. And through it all, Eddie never wavered or complained, soaking up the facts and figures like a sponge.

“And when they ask for a DNA test?” Marianne asked at last. Kat could tell the question had been weighing on her for hours, and finally she couldn’t hold it back anymore. “What will we do then?”

Kat thought about her uncle’s words, his warnings. He was right, of course. The Anastasia was a dead con, but they didn’t have to steal the company. She smiled. They only had to steal time.

“Simple, Marianne. We stall,” Kat said.

“I know Garrett, child,” Marianne said. “I’ve known him since he was no older than you. And, believe me, if that man wants something, it will be quite hard to stop him.”

Hale took her hand. “Marianne, can you trust me?”

“Of course,” she said. Then a strange look crossed her face.

“What is it?” Hale asked.

“I just keep thinking that if your grandmother were here now…”

“She’d be pretty disappointed, huh?” Hale asked, head down.

“No.” Marianne took his face in her hands. “She’d be having a fabulous time.”

For the first time in days, Hale smiled, and a sharp feeling shot through Kat, the possibility that maybe he might come back to her. That maybe, just maybe, Hale might not be entirely gone.

“Okay, we have work to do,” Eddie said, shuffling toward them. He turned to Kat. “Shouldn’t you be casing a bank?”

“I have my best people on it.”

“I wouldn’t call Angus and Hamish your best,” Eddie said. “But they’ll do. And you.” He pointed at Hale. “Isn’t it time you went home?”

Home. It was easy for Kat to forget that Hale had one when, in fact, he had several.

“Oh,” Hale said. “Right. See you at the gala?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Kat said. She watched Hale move into the shadows of the building, nothing but footsteps retreating, beating out a pulse somewhere deep inside of Kat, telling her it was too late to stop now.