Chapter Ten
Ten
Putting together a heist crew is more art than science. Yes, you need people to do specific tasks, but you also need them to get along so they can work seamlessly together. It’s like a well-oiled machine, each cog turning in perfect synchronization with the others.
At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work in theory. In reality, my crew was a mess. We were a group of misfits who had come together in a moment of desperation and pure financial need, and now we had three unwanted additions plus Simone, who didn’t seem to appreciate the gravity of the situation. It was a recipe for disaster.
“Is there any way to ditch the deadweight?” Chloe asked, sipping her Long Island Iced Tea. We had decided to meet with Jack and Gage at the Black Dog bar in the basement of the Hobie Hotel to go over crew assignments. Chloe loved the red velvet banquettes and British decor. I loved the dim lighting and the unique seating configuration that gave every party a sense of privacy.
“There is no way Clare will let us run the heist without her,” Jack said. “She has a vested interest in the outcome, and she doesn’t trust me.”
“Would you really double-cross us, run off with the diamond, and leave us to die by mob boss?” I was on my second Long Island Iced Tea, and suddenly no question was off the table.
“I would never let anything happen to you,” Jack said firmly. “But I also don’t want the diamond to fall into the wrong hands. It’s one of the world’s missing treasures. It should go back to Austria and be put on display so its beauty can be shared.”
“So that’s a yes. Another black mark on your scorecard.” I drew an X in the air with my finger.
“You two are going to have to agree to disagree so we can get this heist done.” Gage looked around for the waiter. He’d already polished off two tumblers full of whiskey and was ready for another.
“Fine.” I sighed. “What about Clare’s minions? Aside from weapons skills, which we don’t need because this will be a no-weapons heist, can we put them to good use?”
“We can get them out of the picture, so they don’t slit our throats the minute we lay eyes on the diamond.” Gage patted the weapon discreetly holstered under his jacket.
“You said that before, but do you have any proof?” I challenged.
“I don’t need proof. It’s a gut feeling.” He thudded a fist into his stomach.
Chloe grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Made of steel, babe. Couldn’t hurt me if you tried.” His face softened as she pressed a kiss to his knuckles. It was painful to watch, especially because I once had a man to turn into mush, too.
I looked across the table and caught Jack watching me while Chloe and Gage whispered sweet nothings to each other. “What are you looking at?” I demanded.
“You.”
My heart squeezed in my chest. “Well, don’t look at me. I would say don’t talk to me, either, but we need to get this thing done.”
“Would it help if I apologized?” Sincerity oozed from every pore of his handsome face. It was incredibly irritating.
“Apologize for what? For ghosting me? For kissing Clare? For failing to tell me about your past or your psychotic bunny-boiling ex? For making her so angry that she ratted us out to a Mafia boss who has threatened to kill me and my friends?” I slammed my empty glass on the table. “I never thought I needed stability or commitment in my life. I liked your itinerant lifestyle and spontaneous ways. But when you went off the grid, I felt alone and abandoned. And when I saw you with her, I felt betrayed. I never want to feel that again.”
“She admitted she set me up,” Jack said. “I should at least get a pass for that.”
Without responding, I headed for the bar to get another emotion-numbing beverage and spotted Milan and Vito at a nearby table. Even in a room full of eclectic people they stood out. Not because of the way they dressed but because of the air of chaos that surrounded them. It was as if they were one move away from turning the bar into a bloodbath. Vito caught me staring and lifted his glass in a mock salute.
“They’re here,” I said after I returned with a glass in each hand. “Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”
“They’re probably noting where everyone’s jugular is,” Gage said, his face grim. “I say we wait in the alley and deal with them now before they become a problem.”
“Violence isn’t always the answer.” Chloe patted his hand. “Sometimes you just need to talk things through.”
“Is Clare here, too?” Gage asked. “I could deal with them all at once.”
Jack shook his head. “No sign of Clare. I checked the place out before you all arrived.”
I sighed in exasperation. “So, you knew Milan and Vito were here and decided not to share with the class?”
“I wasn’t going to let you walk into a bar without knowing if it was safe,” he said without even a hint of irony. “And I didn’t want you to worry because I have the situation in hand.”
I didn’t know how he had the situation in hand since the two people Gage suspected had been hired to kill us at the end of the heist had somehow found out where we were meeting and were spying on us a few banquettes away, but I let that one slide.
“Let’s get down to business so we can get out of here,” I said, tearing my gaze away. “Jack’s been to the mansion. What are we looking at in terms of location and security?”
“The jewel is held in a private museum contained within a bunker with bank-level biometric security beneath the house,” he said, keeping his voice low. “The bunker is basically a lavish underground ten-thousand-square-foot fallout shelter that’s got a swimming pool, cinema, library, wine vault, games room, hydroponic garden, and multiple living areas. It can only be accessed through a secure panic room on the lower level. It’s blast-proof and has its own self-contained energy, water, and air supply.”
“Jack gave me the details of their security system,” Gage said. “It’s top-of-the-line. They have a twenty-four-hour command center and on-site guards. The bunker and the museum have their own heat sensors, cameras, motion detectors…” He trailed off when I held up my hand.
“Is this a joke?” I looked from Jack to Gage and back to Jack. “Not even a team of elite professional thieves could pull this off, and you’re expecting us—a bunch of nobodies with one heist under our belts—to get this done, and in under four weeks?”
“Clare has almost as much experience as me,” Jack pointed out. “And I suspect her two associates are professionals, but it’s not about numbers. It’s about expertise.”
“And what’s my expertise? Organizing events?”
“You’re a leader,” he said. “You’re good at managing people, coming up with a plan, and putting all the pieces together. You can stay calm in difficult situations and you think outside the box. The last heist wouldn’t have happened without you. There was no obstacle that you couldn’t overcome.”
“You make it very difficult to stay mad at you when you say nice things,” I muttered. “Okay, fine. I’m the leader. Chloe will handle anything that requires hacking into computers, which I assume will be security systems, cameras…” I shot her a quizzical look, hoping my genius bestie would be able to handle all the things.
“Biometrics aren’t in my wheelhouse,” she said, “but yes to everything else.”
“Anil can deal with the mechanical and electrical stuff.” I ticked the tasks off on my fingers. “Maybe he can handle the biometrics, too. Emma can be our driver and lift heavy things. Gage can be our muscle…”
“Just because I have a military background and stay in shape doesn’t mean I always have to be the muscle,” Gage said with a sniff. “I can do other things.”
“Like what?”
“I know six different martial arts, hand-to-hand combat, MMA, boxing, and tai chi. I can bench 250 pounds. I can move quickly and silently, and no one will know I’m there. I can guard, threaten, menace, beat, or rough people up. Torture is also on the table. I can handle attack dogs, knock guards unconscious, and analyze security patterns. There isn’t a weapon I can’t use—guns, rifles, assault weapons, knives of all types, nunchucks, throwing stars—”
“So…things the muscle does during a heist,” I said, interrupting.
Gage stared at me. I stared at him. Finally, he said, “Yeah. I guess I’m the muscle.”
“Clare can be our grease woman,” Jack offered. “If we have to deal with a pressure-sensitive floor or lasers in the bunker or the vault, she’ll be invaluable. She’s very flexible and can get through tight spaces. I’ve seen her bend—”
I choked and spat my drink in Jack’s face. It wasn’t intentional, but I was also not unhappy his face was in my way.
“Dude…” Gage shook his head.
“That’s not what I meant.” Jack dabbed at his face with a napkin. “She’s a burglar. She’s who people call if they need someone to scale a brick wall, descend from the ceiling via a series of cables, or maneuver around a laser hallway.”
I had a strong feeling Clare wasn’t the type of person to do her flexible twisting and bending in jogging pants and a baggy tee. She would probably put on her whitest Lycra and ask Jack to set up a pretend laser field made out of string so he could watch her practice.
“What about Simone?” Chloe asked. “She knows the owners of the house. Could she help us get in? Or should we leave her out of it?”
“I’ll talk to her,” I said. “Maybe the owners are having a party and need an event planner. She’s very excited about getting involved with us common folk. Apparently, the life of the ultrarich is very dull. Too many shopping expeditions, vacays, yacht trips, balls, and dinners.”
“I’ve already been in touch with my contact at the Department of Buildings, who is going to get me the most recent set of blueprints for the mansion.” Jack dabbed a rogue droplet on his shirt. “The Hearsts had to file current documents for their zoning applications and building permits.”
“We’ll also need a place to meet and rehearse,” I said. “With Rose away, her neighbors might think it’s suspicious if they see us coming and going all the time.”
“I know a place,” Jack said. “It doesn’t have the comforts of Rose’s garage, but it has got a roof and electricity.”
“Does it have room for six coffins?” Far from feeling heartened by the conversation, I felt the weight of despair. Even with two experienced thieves on the crew, there didn’t seem to be any way we were going to be able to pull this off. “Or, after we fail, will Angelini’s Mafia buddies just dump us in the lake with matching cement shoes?”
“Your parents would be devastated if you just disappeared,” Chloe said. “They would never give up looking for you.”
“I think they’d be more upset that I died unmarried.”
“Well, if that’s everything, I think Simi and I should get going.” Chloe squeezed my hand under the table, our signal that one of us had had too much to drink and needed to be taken home before she embarrassed herself even more than obsessing about her own death, and it wasn’t her.
Jack offered to drive us home, but we opted for the train so we could talk.
“What am I supposed to do about Jack?” I said as we made our way down the street. “My head is spinning and it’s not from all the cocktails. I loved him. I hated him. I missed him. I hated him again. Then Clare admitted she set him up…”
“So back to loving him?” Chloe asked, yanking me to the side to avoid a group of drunk college guys.
“No, because he never told me they were together, or that she was a psycho ex who would put us all in danger, and I’m still not buying all the crazy excuses he gave me for why he could barely stay in touch or come back home for a visit.”
Chloe stopped in front of the train station. “I’m your girl. If you love him, I love him. If you hate him, I hate him. But even I’m getting confused. Are we back to hating him?”
“No, because he arranged for his ‘people’ to watch my house to keep me safe from Clare, and he did some fairly decent groveling in my apartment and some even better kissing at the Sawmill, and you heard him in the bar…”
Chloe smiled. “He did say some nice things.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I think you need to sort yourself out before you can decide what you want to do about Jack,” she said. “You’re still afraid of getting hurt, and I get it. I love your parents. They always treated me like I was part of your family, but they let you down. They made you feel like you weren’t worthy of love. You weren’t the priority in their lives, and this last year Jack made you feel the same way. You feel like you can’t trust him anymore. But seeing him now, the way he looks at you—”
I gave her a sideways glance. “How does he look at me?”
“Like he adores you. I don’t think if he has a choice, he’d leave you again.” She shrugged. “Of course, if you want the safe option, there’s always Garcia.”
Garcia had always been there for me, but he didn’t make my heart pound and my knees weak. He didn’t make me laugh with his sarcastic comments or amuse me with his banter. He hadn’t traveled the world and seen incredible things that he would share with me when we were cuddled together in the still of the night.
Garcia was great. My parents would love him. I would never have to worry that he’d hurt me or walk away.
But he wasn’t Jack.