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To Have and to Heist(38)

Author:Sara Desai

“Also preferred by kidnappers and sexual predators,” Cristian said. “Maybe we should write Free Candy on the side in red paint before we set off to destroy the environment with this gas-guzzling beast.”

Rose poked her head into the van. “It reminds me of a road trip I took across the country with my Christian youth group in ’65 to protest the Vietnam War. I was high on LSD for three straight weeks. We robbed a few banks, set fire to a school, destroyed a few monuments, and I think I slept with the pastor. It was quite the trip.”

Anil climbed inside, his nose wrinkling. “What’s that smell? Is it sauerkraut?”

“That’s the smell a dead body makes after three days,” Rose said. “It starts to bloat and blood-containing foam leaks from the nose and mouth. That could account for the dark stain on the floor.”

My tender stomach recoiled, and I dry heaved over the bushes. “Please tell me that isn’t blood.”

Emma gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m 56 percent sure its food based. The friend who lent it to me did do some time in prison, but it was for assault and arson. No murder—at least not back then. He hasn’t used it for months because he’s driving an ice cream truck now.”

“I can’t tell if Emma is joking,” Anil said.

“Just do what I do when anyone tells a crazy story.” Cristian put an arm around Anil’s shoulders. “Pretend it isn’t real.”

Chloe arrived before I finished cleaning the stain off the carpet. She was wearing a big pair of sunglasses even though it was a cloudy day. I hadn’t seen those glasses in years, but I knew what they meant.

“Babe.” I grabbed her arm and led her over to the garage, where there was no risk we’d be overheard. “What happened?”

“Kyle didn’t pay his child support again,” she said. “It’s been three months and DCSS isn’t doing anything because he’s smart enough to keep the amount owing below the threshold that would make it a misdemeanor. I couldn’t make my rent again this month and my landlord is threatening to evict us so I went to see Kyle this morning.”

“Please tell me you didn’t go alone.”

“I was desperate.” Chloe took off her glasses. Her left eye was swollen, her cheek was bruised, and she had a cut above her eyebrow.

“Oh no.” I pulled her into a hug. Kyle hadn’t changed. He was a violent man with a hair-trigger temper, and he still blamed Chloe for the mess he’d made of his life.

“Of course, he didn’t give me the money,” she said. “He said he didn’t have it, but he just bought a new car, he’s renting a huge apartment in a fancy building, and his place is full of expensive electronics. I think he’s finally got a steady job and he wants to hide it from the DCSS.”

“I know you don’t want to go to the police,” I said. “But Detective Garcia is a good guy. I know he’d do something even though he thinks we’re thieves.”

She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself. “I can’t take the risk that they’ll arrest him and then let him out on bail and he’ll come after me and Olivia. He feels in control when I visit. He likes me to beg.”

Bile rose in my stomach. It wasn’t enough that he refused to acknowledge Olivia and withheld child support; he had to demean and abuse Chloe to feel like a man.

“Mr. Angelini’s assistant called me yesterday and I negotiated an upfront payment of fifty thousand dollars,” I said. “You can have my share. That will be more than enough to cover your rent arrears. You aren’t going to lose your home on my watch.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You know I’ll pay you—”

“What the fuck?” Gage was standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on Chloe.

“I’ll get everyone ready to go.” Chloe put on her glasses and walked toward the van.

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop,” I told him.

Gage wasn’t in a chatty mood. “Who did that to her? And don’t tell me she walked into a door.”

“Her ex. The guy’s a piece of shit. She was trying to get him to pay his child support so she could pay her rent.”

A dark shadow crossed Gage’s face. In that moment, I saw who he really was, and I was glad he was on our side. “Name.”

“I’m not giving you his name,” I said. “I have a pretty good idea what you plan to do, and I need you to not be incarcerated so you can help with this heist.”

His jaw clenched, eyes darkening like twin black holes. “Bastard is going to pay.”

“I won’t stop you,” I said. “After the heist, I will gladly give you all the information I have on him, and I’ll feed those flames of hate by telling you in detail all the things he did to Chloe when they were together. But right now, we have a bride to meet and a heist to plan so pack away the avenging angel superhero costume and get your ass in the van.”

Gage folded his arms across his chest. “I thought I didn’t have to do any wedding shit.”

“You thought wrong.”

* * *

◆ ◆ ◆

?Jack was deep in conversation with a man in blue coveralls when we pulled up in front of the mansion. Instead of waiting for us as we’d agreed, he’d gone rogue again and it grated on my already unsettled nerves. What had happened between us last night? Had I pushed too hard? Was he already regretting kissing me for real and not in a “hide my face” kind of way? Had he turned me down because he was a gentleman, or because I wasn’t his type?

“Is there a reason you didn’t come with the rest of the team?” I asked after he deigned to join us.

“I wanted to have a word with the head gardener before everyone arrived. When I was here the other week, I noticed some twig blight on their azaleas. I wanted to make sure he knew to prune and dispose of the diseased branches before it causes wilting and defoliation.”

I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, it made sense; on the other hand, we were supposed to be working together. And then there was the fact he was talking to me as if it were just an ordinary day, and we hadn’t kissed and shared secrets and spent a few hours wrapped in each other’s arms. My disappointment threatened to distract me from the task at hand, so I gave him a curt nod and walked away.

Bella was waiting for us in the doorway. She was wearing a yellow sheath dress that I recognized from my trip to the upper floor of Bloomingdale’s. Did rich people dress up all day long? Would I have to give up whipping off my bra and pulling on a pair of sweats and an oversized T-shirt when I got home from work after I became an almost-millionaire? Would I even have to work?

“I guess you might as well come in,” she said with a sigh after I made the introductions. “My mother will want to talk to you.”

We followed her through a cavernous marble hallway featuring an enormous crystal chandelier and a grand central staircase lined by wrought-iron railings. We passed rooms larger than my basement suite, with marble and hardwood floors, high ceilings, custom moldings, French doors opening to outdoor terraces, and wood-burning fireplaces. Outside, a large back patio led down to a swimming pool and grassy lawn. In the distance I could see the private dock, where Honey had met a cold and brutal end.

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