Chapter 12 #2
He was startled at how vehemently he rejected both of those possibilities.
He knew and trusted Lilith, but he shouldn’t have dismissed Will as a suspect as easily as he dismissed her.
Even with some modicum of honor among thieves, Will wasn’t a friend or an ally.
He wasn’t someone Cole could trust, not even knowing that Will was trapped in the same foxhole he was, trying not to get hit by the same bullets coming toward Cole.
It was true that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but that only went so far.
Will could still stab him in the back as soon as the crosshairs were off his own.
But Cole couldn’t make himself believe that. He didn’t get it. He didn’t like it. But his gut told him Will really was on his side, at least for now.
And he spent the rest of the drive to Bar Harbor, Maine, wondering why he couldn’t make himself believe otherwise.
To his credit, Will didn’t question when Cole headed east instead of south. He didn’t say a word when they crossed through New Hampshire and then into Maine.
In fact, the first comment he made about their route was when Bar Harbor Road took them onto Mount Desert Island.
“Is, um…” He shifted in the passenger seat. “Is this the only road into Bar Harbor?”
“It’s an island,” Cole said. “A small one. Not a lot of roads in or out.”
“Uh-huh. Right. And, um…” Will cleared his throat. “How will that work if we need to get out in a hurry? Like if Alders’s goons show up?”
Cole gestured at the oncoming lane. “Well, you see, there’s this cool invention called a ‘two-way street,’ and—”
“Fuck off. I meant if they managed to block the road somehow. Or, I don’t know, blow up a bridge or something.”
As much as Cole wanted to tease him just because that was what he liked to do, the uneasy edge to Will’s words gave him pause. Will annoyed the fuck out of him, yes, but this was a dangerous situation, and Will was justifiably nervous. And smart enough to have multiple escape routes.
“Yes, there’s only one land route off the island. But if we need to bug out, we’re not restricted to the land route.”
Silence hung for a moment. “Sooo… your safehouse includes a boat?”
“Something like that.”
More silence. Then, “Fuck’s sake. You just love being cryptic about this shit, don’t you?”
Cole shrugged unrepentantly. Though he didn’t look at Will, he swore he heard the eyeroll. He just chuckled to himself. He’d assured Will they had an escape route besides the one and only road going on and off Mount Desert Island; didn’t mean he couldn’t troll him a little bit.
Not long after that, Cole turned off the main road, followed another into the hills, and then pulled up to a massive black gate. He stopped outside the gate, entered a code into the keypad, and then waited for the gate to open.
“What the hell is this?” Will asked. “Do you have a Bond villain hideout or something?”
Cole laughed. “Guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”
The narrow road beyond the gate took them deeper into the forest, and then when the trees ended and the scenery opened up…
“Holy shit!” Will leaned forward, gaping through the windshield. “This… This is a Bond villain hideout!”
“Not really.” Cole grinned as he followed the driveway up to the six-car garage beside the massive brick house. “This is my parents’ summer home. Well, one of them.”
Will turned the shocked expression on him. “Their summer—how many houses do they have?”
“Uh… I don’t know.” Cole put the car in park.
“I think they sold the one in Singapore.” Then he left the engine idling and his passenger staring, and he got out to enter another code into another keypad.
Once the garage was open, he parked inside, pulling the rental in between Mother’s Bentley and the Range Rover his parents only drove when it snowed.
By the time he shut off the car as the garage door rumbled shut behind them, Will was no less gobsmacked.
“What?” Cole asked. “It’s safe and secure.”
“It’s also huge. Like… Holy shit.” Will smirked. “I mean, it’s probably the size of Alders’s broom closet, but…”
Cole snorted. “You’re probably not wrong. Come on—let’s go inside.”
They got out of the car, and Cole used yet another keypad to gain access to the house. Inside, a fourth code deactivated the alarm.
“Won’t your parents know something is up?” Will asked uneasily. “From you entering the codes and turning off the alarm and stuff?”
“Nope.” Cole shrugged off his jacket. “I used the caretaker’s code. If anyone notices, they’ll just think he’s coming to check on things.”
Will blinked. “Oh. Uh.” He shook himself. “Sure. Yeah. The caretaker’s code.” He waved a hand. “What was I thinking?” He looked around the kitchen and living room. “So, uh, I assume this one has more bedrooms than the place in Vermont?”
“A few, yes. Come on.”
Cole led Will up the stairs to the third floor. The beds were bare, of course, but he pulled sheets, blankets, pillowcases, and duvets from the linen closet. He also found towels for their respective en suite bathrooms.
“That should be everything,” he said as he pushed a stack of towels into Will’s hands. “If you need anything else…” He tipped his head toward the closet.
Will still seemed a bit dumbstruck. “Uh. Okay. Cool. Should we, uh… I don’t suppose the kitchen stays stocked while your family isn’t here.”
Cole shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I can put in an order for groceries. And dinner.”
“And that won’t raise any—” Will paused. “Don’t tell me you use your caretaker’s DoorDash account.”
“I mean, it gets the job done…”
Will blinked. Then he shook his head and started toward the room he’d be using. “Rich people.” He shouldered open the door. “I will never understand—wait, wait, wait.” He dropped the stack of linens on the floor and strode into the room. “What the fuck?”
Cole huffed with annoyance and followed, stepping over the heap of sheets and towels. “What?”
But then he understood—Will was staring at a painting on the wall, and Cole had to bite back a laugh.
“Is that—” Will leaned even closer. “This isn’t a fake, is it? This is…” He whirled around, eyes huge as he stabbed a finger at the painting and demanded, “Is that Barlow’s Centurion? Like, the real thing?”
Cole grinned as he came closer, admiring the painting as if he hadn’t seen it a million times. “The real thing.”
Will opened and closed his mouth like a fish’s, looking at Cole, then the painting, then Cole again. “I… how? How?” He flailed his hand at the piece. “I can’t fucking believe you got that piece. I was right there—why didn’t I see you?”
Cole snorted. “Because you have the spatial awareness of a sloth?”
Will glared at him. “Are you suggesting that sloths don’t have spatial awareness? Do you understand how many predators sloths have? Many of which move a lot faster than they do because, you know, sloths?”
Cole pinched the bridge of his nose, hating himself for how hard he had to fight not to laugh.
“Seriously, though,” Will said. “I was at that gallery specifically to get that piece. And then it was just… gone. And I didn’t even see you!”
Grinning, Cole shrugged. “You snooze, you lose.”
That earned him a disgruntled huff that was probably more satisfying than it had any right to be.
“Anyway.” Cole clapped Will’s shoulder. “You enjoy the view. I’m going to go order some food.” He paused. “Just, uh, text me with whatever you want, I guess?”
Will nodded, still staring at the painting. “Yeah. I’m probably going to grab a shower and—how the fuck many other stolen pieces do you have here, anyway?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Cole was in a decidedly shittier mood an hour later.
Food had arrived, and they’d stocked the fridge and eaten some sandwiches.
Now Will was standing out on the deck overlooking Seal Harbor.
He’d just been gazing out at the water, thinking God only knew what.
Maybe he was considering their next move.
Maybe he was wondering if their pursuers had found their trail.
Or, hell, maybe he was pondering how Cole had managed to get the Centurion out of that gallery in Milan before anyone noticed.
Oh, wouldn’t he like to know how Cole had seduced, blown, and bribed a pair of security guards to help him finish that job?
Normally, that memory gave Cole a pleasant shiver, but right now, he wasn’t in the mood for fond memories.
Because someone had infiltrated his Strawberry Mansion safehouse, and it wasn’t a couple of tweakers looking for a place to fuck this time.
The men—four of them, decked out in tactical gear—had tossed the apartment like a prison cell.
They’d found nothing, of course, including the very well-hidden security cameras.
Still, Cole didn’t like that they’d found the apartment in the first place, least of all after he’d told Lilith he was heading there.
He was especially displeased because someone had also found the Larkinville safehouse. That location was a rented office in a commercial building—definitely not the kind of place cops or thugs could go swarming into without being noticed.
The intruders had been noticed, but no one would think for a second that there was anything nefarious going on.
Instead of masked cop-thugs, it was a team of firefighters responding to an alarm.
They’d evacuated the building and dutifully gone door to door, making sure everyone was out.
They hadn’t tossed the office like the Philly cops had, but they’d forced open the door and checked every nook and cranny for anyone who might still be there.
An hour later, the building was declared clear, and everyone returned to work.
No one was any the wiser, and Cole didn’t believe for a nanosecond that it was just a coincidentally timed routine call.
Someone had tipped off the fire department to go in there and flush out Cole and Will.
Someone had been waiting for them outside.
Someone had known they were supposed to be there.