First Lie Wins(69)

Within minutes, I’m back in the hall outside the laundry room and moving toward the garage. My heart races as one of the men hired to patrol the house turns the corner, nearly bumping right into me. He catches himself by grabbing on to my arm.

“My apologies. Shouldn’t have taken that turn so quickly,” he says.

I give him the laugh he’s looking for. “No worries,” I say.

He waves an almost empty water bottle at me then dips his head to the trash bag in my hand.

I open the bag and he chucks it in. “Thanks,” he says.

“No problem,” I reply, and hope the painting can handle a little bit of water.

Keeping my head down, I walk out the side door to the garage, where the trash bins are located. I strip out of the uniform, leaving me in my shorts and bikini top, and shove the clothes and wig in the garbage bag with the painting, then tie off the bag before dumping it all in the garbage can. Once I’m in the backyard, I text Devon: I took out the garbage

He will retrieve the bag before cutting the cameras back on.

Twenty minutes after I set my drink down on that side table, I’m picking it back up. The ice has barely melted. I take a deep drink, then go find Sawyer. He’s sitting on the side of the pool and I squeeze between him and a blonde so I can take her spot next to him. She’s not happy.

“Where you been, baby?” he slurs.

“Looking for you.”

He throws an arm around me, pulling me close, then starts talking to the girl on his other side.

I sip on my drink and take a deep breath. I owe Devon big for this job. The day after we met at Buffalo Wild Wings, he showed up in Austin.

I found him on the children and teens floor of the Central Public Library, where he was teaching three middle school girls how to play chess on the life-size board. For all his rules and procedures, he’s a complete softy when it comes to kids. I slid into one of the many chairs in that area and let them finish. As soon as the girls were lining up the oversize pieces for a new game, he picked up the cardboard tube and motioned for me to join him in one of the private study rooms. Next to the black box that would ensure that no one was listening in on our conversation, we bent over those blueprints a second time.

“Are you sure the painting is in that room?” he had asked.

I leaned across the table and tried to see what he saw, but nothing jumped out at me. “That room is more fortified than any other spot in that house. The false wall addition implies he’s hiding something there. You said the system is . . . what was the word you used? Exquisite? Everything points to the painting being in that room.”

“But you said you think this is a game, right? You won’t be the only one there looking for it?”

I nodded and he pointed to a small corner of the house.

“You see this right here?”

I moved in close and squinted like that would help me see what he wanted me to see.

It didn’t.

“Give it to me like I’m dumb,” I finally said.

His finger tapped on the space labeled Laundry Room. “See all the wires running to this room?”

I nodded again.

“This is overkill for a room that houses at most a washer and dryer.”

It didn’t take me long to catch on. “So you think the trophy room is bait. Send everyone to a room protected with a ridiculous system they can’t get past. Once they trip it . . . which they will . . . guards get a silent alarm and go scoop them up. Meanwhile, that painting is hidden next to the deep freeze.”

Devon gave me a huge smile. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

“And you’re still good to come in with me? Play a part?” I asked.

He nodded. “Already working on my disguise.” There was actually a hint of excitement in his words I would not have expected.

And he was right. By now, Devon has secured the painting and has left the Tate property. I’ll hang out as long as Sawyer wants, then ditch him once we leave here.

I dig out the small white paper swan that I’d tucked away in my back pocket this morning and set it in the water. It bobs and weaves its way across the pool.

I take another sip of my drink. It won’t be long before the fireworks start.



* * *





I’m expecting the call but jump anyway when the phone rings. The burner was waiting on my kitchen table the second I got home from the party.

“Yes.”

“The blue hair looks better than I thought it would,” Mr. Smith says in his mechanical voice.

“It’s going to be a bitch to remove.”

He laughs quietly. “The package will be picked up shortly and details on the next job will be delivered along with confirmation of your deposit, which includes the bonus.”

I open my laptop and log into my account, where I can already see that the money has been deposited. I start the process of moving it, just like always.

“I’ll be here.”

I think he’s about to hang up, then he adds, “I must say, I’m impressed you recovered it.”

“How many people did I beat?” I’m doing a little fishing of my own. I don’t think he’s going to answer so I push just a little. “Was I the underdog?” I want to know how many more rungs of this ladder I need to climb to make it to the top.