Chapter Fifteen
WHEN I WAKE UP, THEbirds are already chirping, there’s a bright beam of sunlight slicing across my bed, and I can smell coffee and hear voices from downstairs.
I stretch, luxuriating just a bit in the comfort of my bed. My smartphone screen says 10:08—the latest I’ve slept in, I don’t know, ever? Back at Uncle John’s, I’d have to be awake and in the kitchen by 7:30 at the latest, cracking eggs and frying bacon for both of our breakfasts. This ability to wake up whenever I want isn’t a freedom I’d even dreamed of...but now that I have it, it’s hard to resist.
I slip into another of Jack’s outfits—a Johnny Cash T-shirt and cut-off shorts, no doubt artfully shredded by the designers as opposed to hacked off with scissors—and head down the stairs, resisting the urge to slide down the banister at the end.
I’m in a good mood, I realize. It’s been a long while since that’s been the case.
“You’re absolutely, incurably, totally and utterly stupid.”
Will’s arms are folded over his chest as he stares down Rob, who’s sitting with his feet propped on the kitchen table and his arms behind his head.
“Really?” Rob says. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
I pause in the entryway. “Am I...interrupting something?”
“There’s always something to interrupt with these guys.” That’s Tuck, sidling up to me from the other side of the island. “Sleep okay, Maren?”
I nod. “Like a dream.” I eyeball Will and Rob, who indeed appear to be in some kind of standoff. “What’s going on here?”
Tuck sighs. “It’s a long story.”
“No,” Will butts in. “It isn’t. It’s a short one, because he’s not going. We’re not going,” he amends. “Period.”
“Come on, Scarlet,” Rob says. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Smothered out by my sense of...common sense,” Will says. “Which is telling me this would be a beyond terrible idea. You’d be throwing all of us right into the lion’s den.”
“Like we can’t handle a couple of lions?” Rob says. “And lions? Seriously? I think that’s giving the boys in beige way too much credit.”
I grab myself a cup of coffee and survey the scene from the sidelines. “What’s going on?” I stage-whisper to Tuck. “I need context.”
Tuck grimaces. “So—”
“Don’t,” Will says, pivoting to Tuck. “Don’t even. It doesn’t matter what’s going on because it is. Not. Happening.”
“Hey,” I protest. “I have a right to know why all my housemates are griping at each other, don’t I?”
It’s the first time I’ve referred to them as housemates. I didn’t even realize I thought of them that way until the words escaped my lips. But...there you go, I guess. And none of them seem to mind.
Will sighs, his shoulders slumped. “Fine,” he says. “Explain to her. But she’ll immediately see why I’m right.”
Tuck smiles. “Okay. Well, as I understand it, Rob’s caught wind of a big-ticket event, where all of Sherwood County’s best and brightest will be in attendance—”
“Tuck, Tuck, Tuck.” Rob shakes his head and sits up straight. “You’re underselling it.” He looks at me. “Maren, have you ever heard of the Fox Hunt Club?”
A chill runs down my spine, despite the warmth of the kitchen. I straighten up. “Yeah. I’m familiar.”
“Ah, excellent. So I don’t need to explain its significance to you, then.” If Rob notices my reaction, he doesn’t show it.
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“I don’t know much about it,” Tuck puts in. “And I’m feeling a bit left out.”
I soften a little. “It’s a hunting club,” I explain. “At least, ostensibly, it is. But really, it’s just a place for rich men in Sherwood to get together and drink bourbon, smoke cigars, and do...shady rich men stuff.” I give my head a little shake. “I haven’t been there since I was a kid. But my uncle...” I swallow. “Well, not really my uncle. My legal guardian.”
“The one who was filing the paperwork,” Rob says.
I don’t deny it. “Yeah. He’s a...regular at the club, I guess you could say.”
“I see,” Tuck says. “So, like a country club.”
“Except with killing innocent creatures for sport instead of golf,” I put in. “But yes.”
“Give those innocent creatures some credit, Maren,” Rob says, his eyes flashing. “I doubt they ever actually catch a fox.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” mutters Will.
Rob claps his hands. “Anyway, point is—there’s a massive charity gala coming up. This weekend. Drinking, dancing, silent auctions, champagne fountains—the whole bit.”
I nod. “Sounds like them. So...what’s the issue?”
“The issue,” Will butts in, “is that Rob is not invited. But somehow he thinks it’s a good idea to crash.”
“Wait just a second, now,” Rob says. “The Locksleys have a standing invitation to any and all events at the Fox Hunt Club. We’re a founding family, after all.”
“And you think that’ll protect you?” Will says. “Come on. The instant anyone there recognizes you—sheriff or not—you’re toast.”
“But that’s the brilliance of it,” Rob says. “They won’t recognize me.”
Will rolls his eyes. “You can’t seriously believe that.”
“Why wouldn’t they recognize you?” I ask Rob. Because—well, full offense to him, but he’s a six-foot-three ginger with a distinctive Virginia drawl. Maybe I just have some kind of Rob-radar, but I’d probably spot him a mile away.
Rob’s eyes gleam. “It’s a masquerade.”
Tuck grins. “Hey, that sounds fun!”
“And you think that’s enough?” Will says, ignoring Tuck. “A flimsy paper mask to conceal your identity from people who are actively looking for you?”
“Of course I don’t think that’s enough,” Rob says. “They’ll also be drunk off their asses. That helps a good deal.”
Will throws his hands into the air, defeated.
“Besides, I can’t just let all that stuff just change hands from rich jerk to rich jerk,” Rob adds. “That’d be a disgrace to my reputation.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not taking this risk just to indulge your ego,” Will retorts.
“But it’s not just to indulge his ego,” Tuck says. “Right, Rob?”
Rob nods, his face turning serious. “Right.” He glances at me, hesitating. “There’s...there’s a lot of value we can get out of that night. All of Sherwood’s wealth and power in one place. Have you seen what they’re listing for that charity auction?” He ticks things off on his fingers. “Diamond jewelry. Rare coins. Antique timepieces.”
“You want to steal it,” I blurt out.
No one says anything for a long while.
“Yes,” Rob says at last. He sighs. “No point in prettying it up, I suppose. We’re thieves, Maren. So yes, that would be the plan. Part of it, anyway.”
Huh.
All that secrecy and subterfuge to conceal the most basic, boring-ass of criminal enterprises.
I’m almost disappointed...except for the fact that pulling off an actual heist, from the Fox Hunt Club, no less, sounds incredibly, almost stupidly, difficult.
And also...
“It’s a charity auction,” I say. “You’d be stealing the proceeds from charity.”
At that, Will snorts. “Hardly.”
I shoot a glare at him. “What do you mean?”
Will huffs a sigh. “Well, as deathly stupid as this idea is”—he looks daggers at Rob—“there’s no arguing that we’d be on the right side of justice...if not the law.”
I frown.
“What Will means,” Rob puts in, “is that the so-called charity of the Fox Hunt Club is...debatable. Right, Tuck?”
Tuck nods. “Oh, yeah. No question. If this is tied to the sheriff, then it’s a whole shell game. The money goes to a foundation, which is owned by another foundation, which trickles the cash out to other, smaller foundations...” He wiggles his fingers in the air, then shrugs. “Basically, they divvy it up into so many small pieces that it’s a pain in the ass to follow the paper trail. Then they sign those foundations up for exclusive contracts with select local businesses”—he draws air quotes—“and then—”
“And then the money ends up right back in their pockets,” I finish for him.
It makes total sense. A bureaucratic rope-a-dope, classic Uncle John type stuff. Outwardly benevolent, while inwardly skimming off the top until nothing’s left.
Still, it’s not quite sitting right with me.
“So you just steal all their shit, flip it, and keep the cash?”
Rob gives a short laugh. “Maren, I ask you again: does it look like I need cash?”
I glance around at the cavernous kitchen, with its polished appliances and twelve-foot ceilings. “Not exactly.”
“We find good uses for it,” Will says.
“We steal from the rich,” Rob says, miming grabbing something out of the air to his left, “and give to the poor.” He hands out the imaginary loot to an invisible recipient on his right.
I can’t help but arch an eyebrow. “Really? So all these jewels and coins and valuables you swipe, you’re just going to, what, drive down to the south side of town and hand them out to street urchins?”
Will cracks up. Rob sighs. But it’s Tuck who grins and jumps in with an answer.
“Not hardly,” Tuck says. “That’s the best part. We have a whole network set up to liquidate things like jewelry, collectibles, antiques—find the right buyers and get nothing back but untraceable cash and clean hands. The bad guys aren’t the only ones who can do creative accounting.” He straightens up a little, chest out. “That’s mostly my job.”
“And we’re all very proud of you,” Will drawls. Tuck blushes.
I smile, too. Anticlimactic though it may be, now I know the truth, and it’s started to put my mind at ease—a little.
“So, okay,” I say, “You go around handing out cash.”
“Ah, wrong again.” Will, this time. “People don’t like handouts.”
“Especially not around Sherwood County,” Rob says. “You know how it is, I’m sure. Too poor to paint, too proud to whitewash.”
“Say what?” Will cocks a look at him. Rob frowns.
“It’s something my grandmother used to say. Never mind.”
“You and your countrified expressions.” Will sighs. “Anyway, no, cash handouts are a no-go. We tried, people refused. So instead, we...work the system a little.” He leans forward, toward me. “Pop quiz, Maren: what’s the biggest cost-of-living burden here in Sherwood County?”
I have to think about it—but not for long. I think of Ms. Donovan, of old man MacAllister, of Jimmy at the auto parts shop, the one thing they always complain about.
“Taxes,” I say. “They’re astronomical.”
“Bingo.” Will smiles. “So we get the cash, and set up a little...backdoor payment system, essentially.”
“It’s great,” Tuck butts in. “What I’ve done is created a series of dummy bank accounts that connect directly to the county assessor’s office, and—”
“Tuck,” Will groans. “Don’t bore the girl to death.”
I press my lips together, trying not to smile. “It sounds complicated,” I say politely. “But cool. So you just pay off people’s debts behind their backs?”
“Essentially,” Rob says. He spreads his palms. “Look, it’s not particularly sexy, but it helps. It’s what we can do to help. And Sherwood needs the help. So that’s...what we do.”
I nod, slowly. “So you’re just out there...breaking and entering all the time? Do you have like belaying wires and glass cutters and all that Mission Impossible stuff?”
No one says anything. The other two look at Rob.
“Not...exactly,” he says. “It’s...the methods aren’t important, Maren. Honestly, the less you know about how we do it, the better.” He throws a look first at Tuck, then at Will.
“Suffice it to say,” Will says, after a pause, “we’re more than just your run-of-the-mill cat burglars.”
I breathe out hard. That’s not exactly the explanation I wanted, but then again, he’s probably right. If there’s a chance I’ll need to play dumb in the future, better for me to be actually ignorant.
“Okay,” I say. “I...think I get it.” I take a long sip of the last of my espresso. “Explains why the sheriff hates you. And my uncle.”
“You mean the men whose livelihoods come from soaking the regular folks for every last penny?” Rob laughs. “Yeah, I’d say they’re not huge fans of ours.”
“Any enemy of theirs is a friend of mine,” I mutter. “But...” I rub my forehead. “Okay, this is all very noble and everything, but...why? Like, why do you do this? Why bother? You clearly have family money. It’s no skin off your nose.”
Rob draws in a breath. “The Locksleys have been in Sherwood County since the Jamestown days, Maren. This is our home. The forest, the land, the people—it matters to us. To me. We came to America to find a better life, to escape that kind of tyranny and bullshit. I can’t just let it happen here all over again.”
I throw a glance around the room. “And the two of you?”
“Free room and board,” Will drawls. Rob aims a playful punch at him, which Will ducks, grinning. “No, but really, it’s...we just have a bond, I guess.”
“Rob’s a real collector of lost boys,” Tuck says, also smiling. “We’re basically stuck in pack mentality now.”
“LJ, too,” Will adds. “He won’t admit it, but we’re his family.”
“We’re all family here,” Rob amends. “And that includes you, Maren.”
I nod. I hate to say it, but...
“It makes sense to me,” I say. “So what...exactly is the the problem?”
“That’s another thing,” Will says. He’s picked the argument right back up, now speaking directly to Rob, but pointing at me. “What about her?”
“What about me?” I ask hotly, folding my arms. Will throws me a look that’s half-apologetic before turning back to Rob.
“We can’t just leave her here alone,” Will says. “She wouldn’t be safe. And don’t you even try to argue that you can pull this off alone, Rob, because you can’t. It’d be all hands on deck.”
Tuck shifts his weight from foot to foot. “He’s not wrong, Rob. It’s...unusually risky, even for you.”
I set down my coffee mug and put my hands in the air. “I don’t want any trouble,” I say. “No complications, no nothing. Yesterday was plenty.”
“No one’s asking you to get in trouble, Maren,” Rob says. He sighs, runs his hands through his hair. “You’re right, though, Scarlet. She can’t just stay here alone, unguarded. Your security setup’s good, but it’s not magic.”
Tuck laughs. Will doesn’t.
“You see the problem, then,” Will says. “This can’t work.”
“Yes, it can.”
The voice comes from the hallway, where a broad shape darkens the door.
It’s LJ.
“We take her with us.” He strides into the room, serious as anything, but relaxed, and settles at the table, folding his hands. “She wears a masquerade mask just like everyone else. We don’t let her out of our sight. Between the four of us, she’ll be safe.”
I swallow hard. I want to speak up, to protest or agree on my own behalf, but I don’t even know what I think. I want to wait and see what happens.
“Scarlet,” LJ growls. “You’re right to be apprehensive, but quit biting your nails over this shit. We know what we’re doing, and we’re not going to get another opportunity like this. Everyone’s like sitting ducks. You can’t just pass it up.”
He turns his stare to Rob. “And Rob, you’re an idiot if you think you could do this safely by yourself. You need all of us, and you know it.”
Rob and Will look at each other, look at Tuck, look at me.
“I’ll do it if Maren says okay,” Will says at last. “But only if she agrees.”
Rob nods. “Same here.”
Four pairs of eyes settle expectantly on me. I pick up my mug again and clutch it like a shield. The thought of setting foot in the Fox Hunt Club, with its smoke-scented drapery and stuffy ballrooms, makes my chest constrict.
Especially knowing that Uncle John will undoubtedly be there. And the sheriff, too.
But I don’t want to stand in their way. Not if they’re going to do what they say they’re going to. Not if they’re going to help people.
And...I can’t help it. I’m not timid little Maren anymore. I’m a girl who’s run from the cops, who’s fired a crossbow.
I want the adventure.
“I guess I’ll go with it,” I say. I glance down at my outfit. “But I don’t have anything to wear.”
Rob laughs. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of that.”