Always a Thief Part 25

"Mother, we've been over this," Max said patiently. "And I explained all the reasons."

"The princ.i.p.al reason being that you didn't want me seen," Elizabeth Sabin sniffed, unconvinced. She was a delicate woman, still incredibly beautiful in her sixties, with a figure many a much younger woman would have envied and gleaming fair hair a lovely shade between gold and silver. She also bore a striking resemblance to Quinn-which was explained when he caught her up in an enthusiastic bear hug.

"Mother, how long have you been here?"

"Since yesterday," she replied, returning the hug and kissing him. "I saw Max, of course, and Wolfe last night, but they thought I shouldn't call you or Jared until this thing you're all involved in was over. I gather it is? Alex, have you lost weight?"

"Pounds," he confirmed cheerfully, and caught Morgan's hand to draw her forward. "Meet the reason."

He followed that blithe comment with a more reasonable introduction, and Morgan found herself gazing into the warmly sparkling green eyes of the mother of four of the most remarkable men she'd ever known. Since that was what Morgan had finally realized earlier in the night, she wasn't surprised-but she was still a bit dazed.

"Half brothers, all of you," she murmured to Quinn a couple of minutes later when they gave way for Jared to greet his mother. "Different fathers, different last names, different lives. But the same mother. The same blood."

Leading her to a comfortable chair in the huge sunken living room, Quinn said, "How did you figure that out, by the way? You hadn't met Mother, according to Max."

"No, but I'd seen her picture; he has it here in his study." She shook her head and settled onto the arm of the chair when he would have put her somewhere else, adding in a murmur, "I won't be able to think if I sit on your lap."

His eyes gleamed at her. "That's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me, sweet."

"Mmm. Anyway, in the museum today-I mean yesterday-I was looking at the four of you, and I realized it was the first time I'd seen you all together in the same room. I think I knew then, subconsciously, but it didn't really hit me until later."

"That I looked more like Max's mother than he did?"

"Something like that. You were talking to Max, and Jared was talking to Wolfe . . . and there was something about the way you all stood, or the way the light was. .h.i.tting you. . . . A bell went off in my mind. Later, when I realized, I remembered seeing Elizabeth's picture here, and I thought either Leo or Ken might have too; they've both been here. I knew Max and Wolfe were half brothers, and I knew their mother had been married several times, so it was at least possible. Nightshade, he might think of it, might have even seen her photograph here. It scared the h.e.l.l out of me."

"When did you know Leo was Nightshade?"

"When I went out looking for you. I did-used-tapped into-that thing between us. That connection. And it was really strong this time. I could almost see see Leo, and I knew without a doubt that's where you were." Leo, and I knew without a doubt that's where you were."

Quinn didn't comment on her use of the connection between them, though he did smile a bit wryly. But all he said was, "Which is why you came creeping through Leo's garden?"

Sighing, she said, "Well, it occurred to me that if Max didn't know it was Leo Leo you were after, and he didn't know that Quinn and Nightshade were supposedly in cahoots, then he probably also didn't know that it would be important to make sure Leo didn't find out you guys were brothers. Because if he knew that, he'd be certain that Max's brother would never steal from him. I mean, you just wouldn't. And he'd know that. So he'd know it was a trap." you were after, and he didn't know that Quinn and Nightshade were supposedly in cahoots, then he probably also didn't know that it would be important to make sure Leo didn't find out you guys were brothers. Because if he knew that, he'd be certain that Max's brother would never steal from him. I mean, you just wouldn't. And he'd know that. So he'd know it was a trap."

Before Quinn could respond to that tangled explanation, Max said rather bitterly, "Obviously, there was too d.a.m.ned much that Max didn't know."

Morgan glanced around the room, finding the others beginning to settle into chairs and couches. Dinah and Storm, both having spent the previous evening here getting to know Elizabeth, were handing out coffee to the others. There were a number of expectant faces in the room, and more than one frown directed at Quinn.

Somewhat hastily, Quinn said, "Jared, why don't you start the ball rolling?"

With a faint shrug, Jared did, setting up the situation very briefly by explaining how he and Alex had believed they could construct a trap to catch Nightshade.

"We know that," Max told him, very patient. "What we don't know is at what point Alex identified Leo as Nightshade."

"Ask him," Jared advised dryly.

Quinn sent him a glance, and murmured, "Traitor."

Max, unamused by the byplay, said, "Alex?"

"It was . . . fairly recently." Quinn hurried on, hoping Max wouldn't demand too many specifics. "I thought I might have some luck if I approached him directly and proposed a partners.h.i.+p. After all, I was a virtual stranger here with no professional contacts, and it was well known-within the trade-that Nightshade tended to avoid sophisticated electronic security systems, while I specialized in them. It seemed obvious a partners.h.i.+p would be mutually beneficial."

Quinn shrugged. "Of course, from his viewpoint it was even simpler and far more attractive a proposition, since he always intended for me to take the blame. He was too close to Max, too close to the art world here in San Francisco, to take the chance of pulling off the robbery unless he could pin it on someone else. Someone the police could be counted on to believe was capable of pulling it off."

"Someone who would seemingly vanish in a puff of smoke afterward," Wolfe said. "Quinn."

"Exactly," Quinn confirmed.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Of course, the reason he gave me was simply that he was too close to Max and the museum to take any chances, plus that he wasn't particularly adept with cutting-edge electronic security systems. Since I had never hesitated to take the credit-or blame, rather-for past robberies, it was understood I wouldn't mind taking it for stealing the Bannister collection, even if all I actually walked off with was one piece of it." was too close to Max and the museum to take any chances, plus that he wasn't particularly adept with cutting-edge electronic security systems. Since I had never hesitated to take the credit-or blame, rather-for past robberies, it was understood I wouldn't mind taking it for stealing the Bannister collection, even if all I actually walked off with was one piece of it."

"I guess he never mentioned that he intended to kill you to make certain you could never be a threat against him in the future," Wolfe commented.

"Well, no," Quinn said. "I naturally a.s.sumed it was a risk and took sensible precautions."

"And you never let the rest of us in on this because . . ." Wolfe's voice was dangerously quiet.

Quinn cleared his throat. "I thought the fewer of us who knew, the less likely there could be a slip. A problem."

"Jesus Christ, Alex. Teaming up with a vicious killer? One slip slip and you end up with your throat cut." and you end up with your throat cut."

"Look, I thought it was worth the risk. Just setting a trap in the museum and waiting to see if he decided to rob the place seemed to me awfully chancy, especially given his avoidance of sophisticated electronic security. Besides which, he could have waited weeks to make his move, and I didn't think any of us wanted to wait and pace the floor that long."

"So you decided to push him," Max said.

"Well, more or less. After I made contact with him, I a.s.sured him I could find a way into the museum, and he wanted the collection badly enough to let me try. And it worked," he added lightly. "He was caught breaking into the museum, and the police will certainly find plenty of evidence they can use against him when they search his house."

Morgan frowned. "But Leo also knows a few things that could hurt you. He knows that Alex Brandon is Quinn." She sent a quick glance toward Elizabeth, marveling that the older woman hadn't seemed upset by any of this, but Elizabeth smiled at her with utter calm.

"Does he?" Quinn smiled up at her. "He says says Alex Brandon is Quinn. But all he really knows is that I told him I was Quinn, and he can't prove that; there hasn't been a single robbery attributed to Quinn here in San Francisco. So it's my word against his. If he tries to implicate me in any way, my sterling reputation should protect me. Besides, Interpol will report that the man they strongly suspect of being Quinn never left Europe. And since, also thanks to Interpol, there have been a couple of robberies on that side of the Atlantic publicly attributed to Quinn during the past week or so-while Alex Brandon was blamelessly over here-well, who would you believe?" Alex Brandon is Quinn. But all he really knows is that I told him I was Quinn, and he can't prove that; there hasn't been a single robbery attributed to Quinn here in San Francisco. So it's my word against his. If he tries to implicate me in any way, my sterling reputation should protect me. Besides, Interpol will report that the man they strongly suspect of being Quinn never left Europe. And since, also thanks to Interpol, there have been a couple of robberies on that side of the Atlantic publicly attributed to Quinn during the past week or so-while Alex Brandon was blamelessly over here-well, who would you believe?"

Mildly, Max said, "Lucky for you the Carstairs family decided not to go public about losing their necklace."

In a tone of great innocence, Quinn said, "No, it's just lucky that the police will find that necklace in Leo's safe. Obviously, Nightshade stole the thing."

"Obviously," Wolfe grunted.

Storm giggled suddenly and, to Quinn, said, "I'll say this for you, Alex-you keep your balance on a high wire."

"Practice," he told her.

"So what now?" It was Max who asked, his steady gaze on his younger brother.

Quinn shrugged. "Well, there are lots more thieves in the world, some of them pretty good at eluding the police. I imagine Interpol can use someone of my . . . talents."

Max looked at Jared, who nodded. "Probably. This little adventure, with its highly successful outcome, will look good to my superiors-since they don't know what went on behind the scenes. He's more valuable to us outside a prison cell than in."

"On the road to redemption," Quinn murmured.

"Don't push it, Alex," Jared warned.

"I was being serious." Quinn realized he was being stared at and cleared his throat. "Well, reasonably serious."

Eyeing him, Wolfe said, "Sounds to me like you'll be in indentured servitude to Interpol. And that was never your style, Alex."

"People change."

"Uh-huh."

"Look, I'm not saying I'm going to always enjoy playing on Interpol's team, but I can do it."

"Can. But how long will you?"

"As long as . . . necessary."

"How long will that be?" It was Max who asked now.

Quinn sighed. "If you want to know whether I intend to return to thieving, the answer is no. Been there, done that."

"And earned the infamous reputation as a master thief," Storm murmured.

"Exactly," Quinn said. "I have nothing to prove. And, truth to tell, I enjoyed these last months."

"Even getting shot?" Wolfe demanded.

"Alex!" Elizabeth scolded, for all the world as if a small son had come home with a black eye.

Her youngest, though far from small, looked a bit sheepish, contritely accepting the blame for having gotten himself shot. "Sorry, Mother," he murmured.

"It could continue to be an occupational hazard," Max pointed out. "Getting shot at. A dangerous life, Alex."

"Maybe. But a life I enjoy, Max. A life I'm good at."

Morgan very deliberately didn't enter the discussion, her gaze moving among the brothers as they talked about the future of Alex-and Quinn.

"You broke the law," Wolfe said.

"And now I'm being punished."

"Punished, h.e.l.l. You're enjoying yourself too much to call it punishment."

"All right, then say I'm working to redeem myself."

"And all the loot you stole over the years?"

"What about it?"

"G.o.ddammit, Alex, you know what about it."

"You surely don't expect me to give it back?" Quinn shook his head, smiling faintly. "Even Interpol didn't expect that."

"Well, we tried," Jared said.

Max lifted a brow at him. "And?"

"And . . . it was decided that his willing cooperation was worth more than reclaiming whatever valuables it was even possible to track down after all these years."

"I never h.o.a.rded," Quinn explained. "Unlike Leo Ca.s.sady, it was never about having a vault somewhere stuffed with pretties only I could look upon. It was never about the money."

"What was it about?" Max asked.

Quinn flicked a glance at Morgan but answered readily. "The thrill, I suppose. Pitting my skills and smarts against the best security systems in existence."

"Which he can still do," Jared murmured. "In a manner of speaking."

"It's certainly a far better life than one inside a prison cell," Quinn said. "And I'm willing."

Max looked at Jared. "Can you control him?"

"G.o.d knows. But I'm willing too. To try."

Wolfe sighed explosively. "Am I the only one who's still hung up over the idea that Alex broke the law? Repeatedly?"

"Yes," Quinn said. "Get over it."

Max said, "n.o.body's happy about that, Wolfe. But it was Interpol's decision, and they made it. I'm sure even you would rather see Alex working to help them rather than the alternative."

"If you think I'm buying this whole redemption thing, think again." Staring at Quinn, Wolfe said, "The next time I I catch you with your hand in a safe, I won't stop to ask if you're still playing on Interpol's team. Got it?" catch you with your hand in a safe, I won't stop to ask if you're still playing on Interpol's team. Got it?"

"Got it." Quinn paused, then grinned. "a.s.suming you ever do catch me again."

Since they were all still up at dawn, it was tacitly decided that they might as well remain up. They did go home for showers and fresh clothing, to say nothing of breakfast, but by eight-thirty they were back at the museum.

Morgan had continued to deliberately avoid any discussion of the future-Quinn's or theirs-and he hadn't said anything about that beyond what was said in the discussion with his brothers. She didn't know if he would stay or go. She thought he wanted to stay, at least for a while, which was probably as much of a commitment as Quinn could make.

She didn't know if that would be enough for her, honestly didn't know. She knew she wasn't looking for an ivy-covered cottage with a white picket fence and happily-ever-after, at least not right now.

But she hadn't been looking for a fling either.

Clearly, her relations.h.i.+p with Quinn fell somewhere in between.