Page 1 of Never Enough

1

SEPTEMBER 21, 2018

Haskell

Haskell plastered herself to the side of the Dolder Tower in the narrow alley between the tower and the house no more than four feet away. The gate at the base of the tower, the original from the thirteenth century, was currently lit by neon-green light. Despite its age, the structure still had security cameras and two security guards, especially now with its visiting treasure inside—the Jupiter Diamond. However, she had no intention of entering the tower through the main doors at its base.

Riquewihr was a quaint village near the northern German border of France. Each year, millions of people traveled to the famous “wine road” to enter the medieval gates of the still-populated towns and take in the villages that seemed to have never left the times of lords and vassals. Tightly crowded homes made of timber and plaster still housed just over onethousand residents. Considered an open-air museum, the town housed several formal museums of historical significance, quaint shops, open-air cafés, alehouses dating back to the fifteenth century, and cobbled streets.

A clang sounded behind and around the building. She froze. After counting for seven minutes with no further noise, she unfroze her muscles. Scanning the darkened streets, she gave the front side of the building one last look.

Chalking her hands from the pouch at her lower back, Haskell searched for the climbing path in the building’s brickwork she had scouted earlier today. With one last glance down the deserted streets, she began her ascent. Each foot she placed on a precariously tiny toehold, each fingertip she gripped into the raised bricks and chipped mortar, brought her one step closer to her goal.

The tower was roughly eighty feet in height and the tallest structure in the village. At its inception, it had been the fortified entrance to the city, its top floor housing the bell to toll out the time for the opening and closing of its gates, warning the vassals to return to the safety of its walls. Those bells were still rung daily and were still rung by hand as a testament to an era that seemed to have been locked in time, a stalwart refusal to age. This was also to Haskell’s advantage. Minimal modernization meant it was easier to sneak in, take her prize, and sneak out.

Once she reached the top of the arch, climbing became more precarious but not impossible. More chalk. More patience. She had hours before the sun would rise and illuminate her silhouette on the outside of the building.

The third floor, which was really the first actual floor people could walk on, had two narrow windows on the tower’s inner facing with window boxes beneath them displaying brightly colored flowers. She probably could have squeezedthrough one of them because of her childlike size, but it was better to continue upward until she was as far out of the reflective reaches of the archway light as possible.

The fourth floor held two sets of double-paned windows above their flower boxes.

The fifth floor held one triple-paned window that did not open.

The sixth floor held two square windows on the far left and right sides. Both windows flanked the town clock, which was unlit by modern lighting and covered by a steep wood awning.

The remaining twenty feet of the climb was the most dangerous. The wind and elements had been harshest to this portion of the building as there were no taller buildings to offer protection, creating thinner toeholds and fingerholds. It was here that she had to cross the face of the building, traverse the top of the awning, and hoist herself through the uncovered belfry window. Once inside, she would take the ancient wood staircase down to the sixth floor, where the Jupiter Diamond was on display as part of the city’s fall celebration.

Slowly but surely, Haskell slid her way the two feet to the corner of the building that had her on a ninety-degree angle to the inner facing of the tower. She paused at the corner, taking a few minutes to calm her breathing and concentrate on how to make the turn.

After making the turn around the corner, Haskell was able to shuffle-slide the short distance to the awning. Once the awning was within reach, it was all about arm strength. Pushing up on her tiptoes, she managed to grasp the timbered ledge and then pull herself up to the belfry window. Hoisting herself into the window, she threw her torso across the ledge, legs hanging out the window, and everything else inside.

Suddenly, she was yanked unceremoniously through the window and found her back crushed against the front of a hard-muscled body. A hand quickly clamped over her mouth while a band of steel cinched tight around her torso, just under her breasts.

A warm breath with a hint of something sugary to it whispered in her ear. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Le Chatte Noire.”

2

SEPTEMBER 21, 2018

Nemo

Hearing scraping noises outside the building, Nemo flattened himself against the wall just to the left of the window facing the courtyard. Given the prize downstairs, he knew without a shadow of a doubt who it was. His body vibrated in anticipation.

“We’ve got company, Midas.”

His twin brother, older by eight minutes, was on the other side of the communication system that ran through his watch. “Yeah, I saw her start up the north face when you were already in.”

“And you didn’t think it was a good idea to warn me, fuckstick?”

“So sue me. I wanted to see her in action again.”

Nemo grimaced to himself. He was goingto strangle Midas. Most of the time, working with his brother was a blessing. Tonight was not one of those times.

The interloper was Le Chatte Noire, or The Black Cat. She was the most notorious cat burglar in Europe and possibly even worldwide. Not much was known about the thief except that she was tiny and very, very good at getting into impossible spaces. She had yet to fail at a job.

But you know some things about her.

He grinned. If he had his way, he was about to know even more.

---