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Amber had only heard Henry refer to one of his houses as ‘home’ and it wasn’t the mansion in England, vacation home in Japan, or pent house apartment in New York. Only when they had walked into the modest (to Henry’s standards) home in Korea did he say, “We’re home.” It was the place they had first met, when Henry caught Amber trying to steal one of his Rembrandt’s. Henry, a lonely rich teenager, begged Amber to let him into her family’s ‘society of thieves’ as he called it. The fact that he didn’t call the police on her was the biggest determining factor in her decision. Now, it was as if he was always a part of the family.

“Ajusshi, could you have dinner ready in a few hours,” Henry addressed his butler that he treated more like a friend, “I’m sure Amber is hungry.” Amber had to admit she was hungry, but she was always up for eating.

Amber plopped down on one of the plush couches in his living room. “So,” she pulled one of the pillows onto her lap and began to play with the fringe that lined the edges, “are you going to tell me why you brought me here? Did my dad put you up to this? ”

Henry sat in the chair across from her. “After we eat Amber, as Uncle Yoonsung always said ‘meals first, heists later’. Or something like that.” This drew out a short laugh from Amber. Her uncle had never once said that.

“And besides your dad hasn’t called me since Shanghai.” He grimaced at the memory. “I think he’s still a tad bit mad.”
            “Well, he’s not the only one.”

“Hey, we all agreed that duck seemed potty trained at the time.”

After dinner Amber and Henry sat at the end of one long dining room after the dishes were cleared. Amber thought that the table felt lonely. Henry was the only one that really lived in the house, she had never once met his parents, and the table was never used for parties bigger than three. The fact that everywhere he went felt lonely because of his parent’s absence might explain why he loved to spend so much time with the Lius.

Henry broke the silence by clearing his throat slightly. “I was never one good at delivering news, so I’m just going to give you the message from Uncle Yoonsung. He says he’s got to give them back.”

“Uncle Yoonsung has to give what back?”

“No, that’s the message ‘he’s got to give them back’. Your dad pulled a job in Hong Kong last week.”

“My dad pulls jobs all the time.”

 “Yes but this one was different. It was a private collection, but it’s more of the collector that’s concerning. The man, Zhou Mi, is a bad guy.”

“Henry, we’ve dealt with many bad guys before, my dad even more.”

“This guy isn’t a bad guy not like Uncle Yoonsung’s a bad guy or I’m a bad guy— he’s the bad guy. Zhou is the head of the Chinese organized crime. He’s issued a bounty for anyone that brings back the man who stole his collection- dead or alive, as long as the paintings come with him. Not many crews in the world could have pulled this off. Two maybe three tops.”

Amber seemed completely emotionless throughout this whole thing. “And my dad, he’s on the top of the list?”

Henry seemed to stiffen at this. “Your dad is the list, Amber.”

She began to shake her head and Henry added softly, “There’s no one else that could have pulled off this job like this.” Amber pretended to be fascinated with the exquisite details of the wood table, but was hardly fascinated at all. She was already making plans to see her father immediately.

“I’m going to head to bed, Am. You know what room you always sleep in.” He stood up and before he walked away he said jokingly, “Now don’t run away in the middle of the night again.”

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As much as Amber didn’t want to run away like Henry told her not to, she still found herself sneaking out of the house begging Hangeng, his butler, not to tell him where she went.

“I won’t,” he said and silently handed her a round trip ticket to Tokyo.

Donghae Liu may be one of the world’s greatest thieves, but Amber knew her father and that was enough for her to find him. Her parents had taken her to Tokyo when she was five, at the time she didn’t know it, but they were really casing the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum. Her father promised to buy her a new soccer ball if she screamed until the guards came to her.    

She stepped out onto the busy streets of the bustling city. It was filled with people who were rushing to get to work and tourists who walked way too slowly for the commuters. That’s when she spotted him. He walked a little slower than the rushing business men and a little faster than the amazed tourists; it was the perfect pace to get by unnoticed. He was dressed in a long black coat and wore sunglasses even though the cloudy fall skies almost stopped the sun from shining through. Amber stopped at her favorite little café and bought a black coffee and a muffin. She walked right up to him and said nothing. She stood beside him as they both pretended to pay attention to the tour guide who was speaking in English. There was no hello or welcoming phrase, he simply took the cup of coffee and wrapped his gloveless hands around the steaming cup.

“I know Whitman is a good school sweetie,” he grinned into his cup as he took a sip, “but isn’t Tokyo a little far for a field trip?”

“Fall break,” she answered with ease. Somehow it was easier to lie to her father than tell the real story to her headmaster.

“Who told you? Was it Henry?” he shook his head slightly. “I still haven’t forgiven him for the Shanghai incident.”

“We all agreed the duck seemed potty trained at the time,” she repeated what Henry had said earlier. Amber scanned the crowd of people around them. Middle aged women stole glances at her father and grinned to themselves. Teenage girls in groups giggled to each other as they awkwardly stared at him. But only one woman watched him openly. Maybe she was confident in her long, straight black hair and pretty eyes or maybe she was watching for something else.

“You know it’s really disturbing to see other people check out your dad,” he only chuckled slightly. “Who’s your friend over there? Tokyo police?”

“Interpol, actually.”

“Nice,” she said with absolutely no enthusiasm in her voice. “Dad, Zhou Mi called, he wants his paintings back.” The tone of his daughter’s voice, a mix of fear, threatening, joking, and mostly urgency, caused him to look at her face for the first time since their conversation started.

“I do not have his paintings, Amber.”

“And why should I believe you? Why should he believe you?” She was pleading with him.

“I was a little busy here when Zhou’s precious paintings were stolen.” Amber’s eyes traveled to the Japanese newspapers and read the headlines.

“So you couldn’t have stolen a private collection in Hong Kong because you robbed a small gallery here in Tokyo.”

“As you can see I have an airtight alibi,” his air of confidence came back.

“Zhou Mi doesn’t care about ‘airtight alibis, Dad. He just wants his paintings back and he’s serious!” She lowered her voice, “He’s issued a 5 million dollar bounty on your head and his paintings.”

“Don’t worry yourself too much, kid. Once he does a little digging he’ll realize that I don’t have his paintings and he’ll move his search and 5 million dollars to someone else.”

“I really don’t think—” Amber was about to protest when her dad cut her off.

“It’s fine, Amber. Just go back to school and forget this ever happened.”

Maybe he was right, Zhou would figure out that it was impossible for her dad to have those paintings and he would move on.

“Do I need to write a note to your school?” He asked clearly thinking he had convinced Amber to give up the fight.

“Already faxed from your New York office.”

He smiled, “That’s my girl. Now when is your next vacation? Winter break? I was thinking we could go to Madrid.”

“Madrid sounds nice,” she wasn’t sure if she was keeping up the lie because she didn’t want her dad to know that the biggest con she pulled yet had fallen through or not.

“Now before you leave I need you to do me a favor.”

Amber pulled off the role as a frazzled American tourist quite well. She approached a pair of cops that were sitting in front of the café.

“T-those men over there he tried to…” she trailed off while pointing to a pair of plain clothed Interpol officers that had been trailing her dad for days.

“They what?” one of them asked in accented English. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Seconds later they were off shouting after the two men telling them to stop.

Amber didn’t even have to look; she knew her father was gone. Disappeared into the rest of the crowd who had no idea they were walking along side one of the world famous Lius.

Determined to get back to Korea before Henry noticed she was missing or worried too much she began her walk to the airport.

“Miss Amber.” There were very few people that called her Miss Amber, Uncle Yoonsung being one. But the man’s voice was nothing like her Uncle’s. It was deeper, raspier, and sent chills down her spine.