Free Sleight Of Hand by Kate Kelly Page B

netted
O'Sullivan and fed him to the FBI, she'd have no choice but to side
with her father. Sarah was an intensely loyal person. Why else had
she come all this way to find him?
    "Right. How could I forget? I'll run this
into Harvey." He heard the hurt in her voice, but she slipped out
of the cab before he could answer. Not that there was anything he
could say that would change the situation.
    He watched her shoulders hunch the same way
they had that day in New York when she'd been talking to her
grandmother. What was wrong with her family? Couldn't they see
Sarah was the kind of woman who deserved to be surrounded by
caring, loving people?
    Instead, she had him. And he was around only
as long as it took to clear his name. He slumped in his seat. The
gray day turned darker as he realized the price for his freedom had
just gone up.

    Sarah poked at her scrambled eggs and
wrinkled her nose at the stale smell of grease. She glanced at
Chance on the stool beside her. For reasons he hadn't bothered to
explain, he'd ignored the booths in the diner and headed straight
for the old-fashioned counter. He leaned his elbows on the faded
arborite and chatted to Cindy as if he'd spent half his life in
diners.
    If he really had gone to Harvard law school,
she doubted he'd had much time for hanging out anywhere. That's
what she'd meant last night when she said he didn't add up. Every
time she thought she had a clear picture of who he was, the focus
blurred.
    She forked up some eggs and made herself eat.
She was pretty sure Chance didn't do things without a reason. Which
meant he was deliberately distorting her perception, maybe
everyone's perception, of who he was. What was he hiding?
    Her fork fell out of her hand and clattered
to the floor as a horrendous thought plowed into her. He
didn't...he couldn't have.... Her gaze collided with his
inquisitive look.
    "I almost hate to ask." Chance placed his
coffee cup on the counter and swiveled on his stool to face
her.
    She glanced around. Cindy had gone over to
the booth in the far corner where a young man sat. She and Chance
were the only other customers in the diner.
    "Well?" He arched an eyebrow.
    "I...." She had to ask him. "Did you steal
those paintings?"
    His brows lowered. "What paintings?"
    "What do you mean, what paintings?" she
hissed. "The ones you say my father stole.You could have set him up
to make it look like he stole them. Or hidden them somewhere and
hired someone to kidnap him so everyone would think he was
guilty."
    Her chest heaved with the strain of voicing
her suspicions. She watched Chance's tension dissolve into amused
wonder. Suddenly he laughed, a big loud guffaw that filled the
diner.
    "Thanks, babe." He stopped and wiped his
eyes. "I haven't laughed that hard for a long time."
    He swung her stool around so she faced him.
"Care to enlighten me as to what inspired that theory?"
    Not able to look him in the eye, she stared
at a spot just above his shoulder. "It's kind of hard to
explain."
    "Try."
    She'd just accused him of major theft.
However stupid her reason sounded to her now, he deserved an
explanation. "I was thinking about how you went to Harvard." Her
gaze bumped into his, then sped away.
    "And?"
    "And you act like you hang out in diners all
the time. But people who study at Harvard don't usually do that
kind of thing." She braced herself for his laughter, but he looked
serious, as if he were trying to understand her thought
processes.
    "It's been more than seven years since I was
in school. A lot has changed."
    "Why didn't you become a lawyer?" She held
her breath Was this grave man the real Chance Spencer?
    "Life takes a sudden turn sometimes. Things
can change in a heartbeat."
    He stared out at the empty booths, his jaw
set as he continued speaking in a quiet voice. "I didn't steal
those paintings. I'm not sure your father did, either. But, if I
don't find out who did steal them, the FBI is going to arrest me,
because they don't have anyone else. I imagine