ERICA #2
“Listen,” I explain. “I couldn’t have gotten close to the Friendship Jewel without you guys. But that’s not your payout. The diamonds are, and it was the only way I could pay you all what you’re worth. I’m not taking any of the cut for myself.”
“Wait.” Rue frowns. “You’re not getting a cut? But the necklace is fake.”
“I’ve got a bigger prize in mind.” I don’t elaborate.
“You having second thoughts, Tanya?” Ivy asks gently.
Tanya looks around the room, then to Dale for support. “I mean, what’s the difference between the diamonds and the Friendship Jewel? Both belonged to someone’s grandma once upon a time.”
Suri sets her stone down like she suddenly lost her appetite for chocolate. She glares at the little velvet pile, then at Tanya. “Thanks for that, Tanya.”
“What?”
“Now I’m picturing an actual grandma,” Zoe cries. “I had a whole speech in my head about how this is basically finders-keepers.”
Rue stares off into the middle distance. “Well, there goes my good night’s sleep.”
“Okay.” I hold up both hands before this turns into a full support-group circle. “We are not doing the twentieth century’s exit interview at eleven o’clock at night. We table it.”
“Table it,” Ivy repeats.
“I concur,” Ginger agrees.
Zoe buries her face in her hands. “Aww heck.”
“Good,” I say, the matter closed. “In other news, we have to clear out of here within the hour. Tanya? You got the tickets?”
She sighs. “Yes.”
Tanya pulls a tablet out of her bag and swipes to her digital wallet.
“Ginger, you’re on the 3am night owl train to Manhattan,” she says, tapping and texting the ticket to Ginger.
Ginger gets a ping. “Love that for me.”
Dale clears his throat. “I don’t really feel comfortable with that. A woman traveling alone with priceless art and diamonds in the middle of the night? No.”
“Okay,” Tanya says. “You go with her but pretend you’re not acquainted.”
“I’ll keep my eye on her the whole way.” Dale nods, solemn as a bodyguard. “And the loot.”
“Especially the loot,” Ginger says.
I turn to Tanya. “You okay to fly alone?”
“I’m good. I booked a 6am flight to Louisiana. I’ll be traveling light.”
She swipes to the next item. “I got your flight to San Diego, Suri. You’ll be at Comic-Con on time.”
Suri presses a hand to her chest. “May the Force be with you.”
“Ivy?” Tanya taps the folder. “You requested… Colorado?”
“Just until the heat dies down. I have scores to settle in DC before I relocate for good.”
“And where will that be?” Ginger asks. “There’s always a place for you in New York.”
Ivy gives her a grateful smile. “I was thinking Hawaii, but I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
Tanya looks up from her tablet. “Rue, you didn’t want travel arrangements?”
“Road trip for me.” Rue’s already got her duffel bag zipped up. “I’m going off the grid. Shooting for forty-eight states.”
“Okay.” I clap my hands once, mostly to keep myself from getting sentimental about it. “We’ll all check in with Zoe in two months’ time.”
“And what will you do?” Ivy asks.
“I have unfinished business here. Zoe will stay for tech support.”
Tanya tosses a set of keys underhand across the room. I catch them one-handed.
“Your safehouse, my liege,” she says.
“You’re a gem, Tanya.”
“Okay.” Zoe gets up. “That about settles it.”
“One more thing,” I say, before this room scatters to the winds for two months. “A man stopped me at the crosswalk and gave me this.”
I dig the card out of my boot and hold it up.
Zoe snatches it out of my hand before I can stop her. “Heath Kane?”
“What did he say?” Tanya asks.
“Just that our interests were temporarily aligned.”
“That’s not ominous at all,” Ginger says.
“Was he trying to be mysterious?” Suri asks.
“I’m a weirdo magnet.” I drop onto the arm of the couch. “I have to deal with Hobbs, then this bozo… not to mention whoever this Jackdaw person is.”
“Men.” Ivy shakes her head. “Why are they so dramatic?” A beat, a glance at Dale. “Sorry, Dale.”
“No worries.” Dale doesn’t even glance up. He’s too invested in a sub sandwich, not even noticing the mustard dripping on his shirt.
“Where did you get that?” Tanya asks.
He shrugs. “Late night bodega.”
Zoe’s fingers are already flying across her keyboard. It doesn’t take her long.
“Got him.” She turns the screen around. “Heath Kane. Estranged grandson of Walter Kane. Disinherited over some family dispute, yadda yadda. Was squeezed out of his position at the family company by the board of directors in twenty-twenty.”
“And the plot thickens,” Rue says.
Zoe turns the computer screen toward me. There’s a photo of Heath Kane in a crisp suit.
“That him?”
“Yep.”
A knock at the door cuts through whatever anyone was about to say next.
Zoe zooms over and signals us all to hide.
There is really nowhere to hide in this open loft, so we all just crouch, as if that would help at all.
Zoe wrenches the door open a crack, as much as the chain will allow.
Doesn’t see anyone out there, then slowly unlatches the chain and peeks outside.
She looks to the right and to the left. There’s no one out there.
“Ding dong ditch?” Ginger says, “Very mature.”
Then Zoe takes off down the sidewalk in her bare feet.
I step out onto the landing while Zoe’s still searching for our ding dong ditcher, and that’s when I notice something sitting in shadow on the welcome mat. A jack of spades. I almost didn’t see it there.
I pick it up and turn it over in my hand. At the bottom, there are four stamped numbers. My stomach drops somewhere around my ankles.
Zoe comes back up out of breath, hair everywhere, hands braced on her knees in the doorway. “Nobody. Checked the sidewalk, checked between the buildings. Nothing.” She immediately throws the deadbolt, then checks the window latches on her way past them. “We need to get to the safehouse.”
I hold up the jack of spades to show the room. “This was on the mat.”
Rue scoffs. “Now he’s just gloating.”
“What do you suppose he wants?” Ivy asks.
“There are four numbers stamped on it,” I say, handing the card to Ivy.
“Is it a code?” asks Ginger.
“A safety deposit box number!” Tanya says, hopeful.
“No,” I say. “It's an address. Sal's favorite diner. In Brooklyn.”