Chapter 21
Audrey Reid lay next to her husband, her lover, her best friend, and listened to his even breathing, her hand on the steady
beat of his heart.
She loved Garrett more than life itself. She would do anything to protect him, anything to save him.
But he shouldn’t have been caught.
It was partly her fault. He’d wanted to leave after the second couple, Jenny and Kevin. She wrinkled her nose. Jenny was a
complete and total bitch and deserved everything that she got, walking around as if she was better than everyone.
But they stayed on staff so that it wouldn’t be suspicious, and started planning their next trip. She wanted to go back to
Las Vegas, because that’s where they got married five years ago. That’s where they fully committed to each other. Body, soul,
life.
That’s where they were when she first killed a man.
She didn’t count the unfortunate accident in Scottsdale.
That wasn’t her fault. She just got a little carried away and, in her defense, she thought he was playing possum.
She’d walked away clean from that . . . but still, it was sort of exciting.
She never told Garrett everything because she wasn’t certain he would understand .
. . later, when Garrett learned their target had died, he asked her about it.
She’d lied, told him that the old fart was alive and well when she walked out.
Then, they had to lie low for a while because the entire country was on pause, but that gave her and Garrett time to really
get to know each other. To just be together. And it was paradise. They headed to Vegas as soon as Garrett was able to land a job there. It had become their habit—first
Garrett got into a position, then she applied for work. They were always hiring young, attractive women, so it was easier
for her to find something after he got inside.
Vegas had been amazing in so many ways. They needed to go back and renew their vows, make a fresh start. Garrett might have
to change his name this time—she’d changed hers so many times she sometimes forgot that she was born Clara Dolan. She’d legally
changed her name to Audrey Reid after they got married, but she had never used that name at any of her jobs.
Though next time, they would. When they got to Vegas, they would go into it as a couple. No more of this sneaking around,
no more watching Garrett flirt with other women because that was his game. She didn’t like it. She didn’t know what Garrett
saw in the old women he seduced. She knew what she saw in the men—victory, money, pride that she hadn’t lost her touch.
So, while staying here in Florida was partly her fault because she had spotted the Avilas and knew they needed to be put to the test, it was also his fault because Garrett saw Kara Costa—Kara Quinn, Audrey reminded herself—and looked at her a moment too long.
Audrey hated her. Hated her with a passion.
Because there had been something in Garrett’s eyes, a lust she hadn’t seen with any of the other women they conned .
. . or killed. The older women were a game—Garrett enjoyed playing with them, sleeping with them, stealing from them. They weren’t a threat to Audrey.
But Kara Quinn was pretty, she was confident, she was successful . . .
No, she’s not successful. That was all fake.
That it was fake, that they had tricked her and Garrett (but mostly Garrett) grated on her.
She rolled over, pulled her laptop off the nightstand, and booted it up. They were in a Jacksonville hotel. The police were
watching outside, but they didn’t know her from Adam, and of course she and Garrett hadn’t walked in together. That would
have been a big red flag.
She glanced over at Garrett, considered waking him up so he could watch with her, but decided against it. He was right about
one thing, and she hated being reminded of that.
Matt and Kara were FBI agents. They weren’t like the others. They might—and that was a big might—find a way out. It was doubtful; they had spent a month setting up the factory again after the Avilas had died. But . . .
it was a teeny, tiny concern.
First, she checked on Lily Graves and her brat. They were sleeping in the basement. It was really weird that the mom brought
a mattress down to sleep next to her son. Audrey didn’t really know what to do with them. Of course Franklin would have to
die—he had humiliated her—but she made sure the woman hadn’t seen her. Yet . . . she wasn’t certain about the kid. He may have spotted her before
she put on her wig and glasses.
She didn’t want to kill him, but . . .
Maybe he wouldn’t remember. When this was over, she could make an anonymous call and tell someone where they were.
They had enough food for a couple weeks if they didn’t eat too much, it wasn’t like they would starve or anything.
If the house lasted that long.
Everyone who died was guilty of something, Audrey reasoned. Most of them were cheaters. The women Garrett seduced—they were just stupid, and they hadn’t killed any
of them. Most didn’t even know they had been conned. See? Stupid. The men Audrey conned were thrilled to have sex with a beautiful young woman. Of course, after she married Garrett, she never
slept with any of them. Her body belonged to her husband now. She teased, seduced, maybe gave them a little taste, until the
drugs took over and she and Garrett could stage the scene.
They always paid. Because they were horny bastards who thought with their dicks.
Audrey logged in to the factory site. She watched the recording of Kara nearly being sliced in two in the elevator. She thought
for certain she would bite it then, but even though she got out, it was fun to watch. Then the recording of Kara peeing in
the bathroom. Audrey laughed. Garrett stirred next to her, but didn’t wake up. Audrey stifled another giggle as she watched
the recording of the two of them trapped in the control room. That was how they were going to die. They walk on one of the
three catwalks and fall to their death. Or better, like Mitch Avila, fall on their back, hit their head, and drown. She could
still hear Sheila crying, alone in the control room. They left her there for another day because they both had to work. By
the time they got to her, she was hysterical. She begged them to save her husband, thinking they were there to save them . . .
then she ran over to the edge and pointed. Audrey couldn’t stand her theatrics, one light push and plop.
Sheila joined her husband on the floor below. It was easier getting a dead body out from the ground floor, anyway.
Audrey switched to the live feed. The external cameras showed all was quiet—no vehicles, no sign of trespassers.
She didn’t expect there would be—the bridge was out and there was only one way to get to the abandoned factory.
Then she checked on the control room . .
. nothing. No feed. She checked the settings and all the other cameras were working, but the control room was out.
Frowning, she rewound the recording and saw the moment that Matt had found the cameras. And when he destroyed them.
That prick!
She loaded the recording from the camera on the factory floor that Garrett had mounted on one of the conveyor belts so it
was halfway up, angled at the control room. It was wide-angle so it saw a lot, but the quality was distorted. From that camera
she watched on high speed as Matt and Kara stood at the broken window and talked, inspected the catwalks, and then they disappeared
from view. They didn’t come back and then the recording stopped and showed real time.
It was 12:45 a.m.
Audrey quickly checked the camera outside the metal doors; the doors were still shut, and there was no sign that they had
gotten out that way. Good. They were still trapped in the control room.
They would die on the catwalks in the morning, probably just waiting for sunrise before they started. They would be weak,
careless.
And if they survived the fall?
They still wouldn’t get out of the building alive.
She hoped.
No, they wouldn’t. Every trap was perfectly set.
Dammit, this was all Emily’s fault.
Eighteen Months Ago
Garrett was working and Audrey was bored.
When Audrey got bored, her mind worked in overdrive.
She had so many ideas, really great ideas, and when Garrett came by tonight she would share them all with him.
He would go through her targets one by one and help her pick the best one.
He was so good at that. And he never made her feel stupid if one of her ideas wasn’t great.
After all, she had hundreds of ideas, of course one or two weren’t well thought out. But always, he would find her best idea and they would work together to plan the operation.
Garrett called it a “con” but she didn’t like that word. It was too . . . common. This was an operation, a grand heist, an adventure!
She knew who she wanted to target—a convention of financial planners was coming in next week. She already had the reservation
list downloaded from the system and had gone through all the names. She picked ten probable successes, ten men who would absolutely
hit on her. But there was one she really wanted to take down a couple pegs. He was all bragging about his daughter online. She got into Harvard Law. She was top of
her class. She was engaged. She was blah-blah-blah. All fake for the world to see. Because Audrey knew that he would want
to screw her, and she also knew he would pay anything to prevent his oh-so-perfect daughter from finding out.
Since she was done with her operational plans—she loved that phrase—Audrey went to social media. Checked out what her mother
was up to . . . boring. Clicked through to her mother’s friends. Sophia got divorced—no surprise there, her husband had been
keeping a mistress their entire marriage. Douglas married a trophy wife last year, who was now pregnant. Gross. Click. Click.
Click.
She checked on her old boyfriends. She did so periodically, but didn’t tell Garrett. It wasn’t that Garrett would be upset,
she didn’t think, but she didn’t want her husband to think she was still hung up on any of them. She wasn’t. She just wanted
to know what they were doing.
Audrey nearly screamed when she saw Charlie’s most recent post. A photo of Emily. That bitch. With a man.
Congratulations to Emily and Josh! I’m so happy for you both to embark on your new life together.
Below that was an engagement announcement. Emily and Josh were getting married a year from now. In Florida.
Audrey dug deep into Emily’s life. She hadn’t given that bitch a second thought since she exposed her father as a cheater.
Well, she had celebrated when Charlie finally came to his senses and left her not even two years after they got married. And
now . . . she was getting married again and Charlie was happy about it?
Two hours later, Audrey had learned everything out there about Josh and Emily. They were moving to Florida because that’s
where Josh was from, bought a house and everything! They were getting married at a church—could they even do that since Emily
was divorced? Whatever. Audrey found out which church and maybe she could find a way to ruin the wedding—again. But she’d
done that before, so it wouldn’t be as fun to do it again.
When Garrett got home she told him everything. He listened, then said, “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
She fell in love with him all over again. Because he got her. He loved her. He trusted her. Mostly, he thought she was smart.
Two months later, she did figure it out—after online stalking every person in Josh’s family to find out where they were going
on their honeymoon.
Besides, it was getting a bit heated here in New Orleans. Time to slip away and find new jobs in a new state with a new plan.
The first of which was to find the right property for what she wanted to do. She couldn’t tell Garrett everything, but most
lies had some truth, so when she told him her family had a run-down, abandoned property in southern Georgia that would be
perfect for what they planned to do to Emily and Josh, he didn’t even question it.
She would take Emily Masters down a peg or ten, then she would kill her.
And have fun doing it.