Chapter 28
“So are we ever going to talk about last night?” Micah asked as she pulled into the parking lot of the country club.
It had taken an hour to get here but she’d been prepping for another hour before that—and was now wearing an incredibly realistic-looking blonde wig she was a little obsessed with.
She loved her dark hair, but it was fun to mix it up.
Ilena had helped style the wig so it was pulled back into a ponytail and the bangs were sort of feathery, hanging down the sides of her face. It really changed her whole look.
“Seriously? Now you want to talk?” She had to meet up with Maeve’s high school friend soon and needed to be focused. They both did.
Timing for this was everything. Two women’s lives literally hung in the balance. If they didn’t nail this, Ilena could end up in jail and Maeve could end up back in her gilded prison.
Micah had been on the phone or his laptop for the majority of the drive here, so she’d assumed she’d lucked out and they didn’t have to have an awkward conversation.
In response, he shoved out a breath and glanced out the passenger window.
She tried not to drink in his profile, but it was hard to control herself.
He had a gorgeous jawline, the kind poets wrote about.
He really had that brooding thing down to an art when he wanted to.
She wanted to reach out, trace one of the winding tattoos on his arm of a crow’s feather, but resisted the urge to touch him.
He finally looked back at her and his expression was weird.
Oh god, he was going to let her down easy! She blurted, “Look, last night was fun. Amazing! But…”
His jaw tightened again. “Don’t give me some bullshit excuse—”
She could feel her defenses slide into place, harden. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“You’ve avoided me all day,” he said dryly.
She sputtered for a moment, but then shut her mouth. “We’ve had a full house. We’ve been planning a robbery. Sort of.”
“And you did everything you could to avoid being alone with me today.”
Damn it, he wasn’t wrong. “Well I was alone with you for the last hour.”
“And I was on the phone… Oh my god, Clover. We’re both adults and we’re into each other. I don’t see the problem.”
She snorted. “You don’t see the problem?”
“Are you just going to repeat my questions?”
She growled in frustration. It wasn’t like he was even asking her for anything, wasn’t making any promises. He just wanted to talk about last night. She could do that, she told herself. But panic swelled all the same as she remembered the humiliation of walking in on her ex.
She didn’t want a relationship and definitely not with someone so closely linked to her family. She’d learned her lesson after Kurt.
“Fine. Last night was great and I’m down for a repeat but I’m not looking for a commitment.
” How was that for talking about it? She knew what he was going to say anyway so she might as well beat him to it.
She tried to tell herself it would save her from heartbreak, but she didn’t think anything could save her from that.
Not after all the time she’d spent with him. And not after last night.
She’d fallen for this man so much harder than she could have imagined. If she’d literally dreamed up a perfect man for her, it would have been Micah. But that wasn’t her reality so she had to let this go.
He’d started to respond when the burner phone they’d been using to communicate with Maeve’s friend buzzed.
I’m here, hurry up. Window closing.
“Here,” Micah said as he handed her a small earpiece.
Her wig should cover it, but it was so small anyway she doubted anyone would see it.
She slipped it in. “Testing.”
He nodded and tapped his own ear. “We can hear each other. I won’t talk to you unless necessary, and if I’m talking to someone, I’ll mute myself so as not to distract you.”
She hated how formal his tone was, but understood. They needed to do this right. The tension between them would have to wait to get resolved after this. Oooor they could just be like ostriches and bury their heads in the sand.
Because she was all about doing the mature thing.
“If anything feels off, get out of there.”
“I will.”
Adrenaline surged through her as she made her way through the plethora of vehicles in the parking lot. Micah had pulled around back to where most of the staff parked. They were older and more practical vehicles compared to the luxury ones she’d seen heading toward the valet earlier.
A petite woman with red hair was standing at the exit door and looking around. She waved hurriedly with her hand.
Clover slipped through the door. “Thank you for doing this,” she murmured, scanning her surroundings.
It was a large locker room-style space and had an overpowering bleachy clean scent.
“I’m happy to help Maeve,” she whispered. “And I’m Rebecca, officially.”
She knew her name since they’d been texting, but she nodded. “Cassidy.” They’d decided to go with a fake name for Clover—the fewer people who knew who she really was, the better for everyone involved if things went sideways.
“This is the staff’s area,” Rebecca whispered even though they were alone.
“We have two new employees that almost no one has met yet. You’re going to be Angel until you get what you need.
” She stopped in front of one of the lockers and pulled out a simple uniform.
“Change in there and I’ll show you where to go.
The judge is early today and you’ve got a small window. ”
Clover hoped the real Angel didn’t get in trouble for what she was about to do, but she also wasn’t going to stop. They needed the information on Judge Hogan’s phone.
It didn’t take long to change, thankfully. When she stepped out of the curtained-off area, she was wearing dark blue pants, a cream-colored tunic-style top with dark blue stitching and a name tag that read Angel. “Do I look okay?”
Rebecca nodded as she headed for another set of doors. “Perfect.”
“Why are you helping Maeve?” she asked quietly.
Rebecca paused at the double doors, her hand hovering over the blue button that said OPEN.
“I never bought that bullshit about the conservatorship. We were friends all through high school, and yeah we lost touch when I went away to college but people don’t change that drastically.
She was always so level-headed, didn’t even like drinking.
At the party it was like…she was possessed.
Or more likely on drugs. And the way they got her committed so quickly, it’s bullshit.
” She looked around, even though no one had entered since Clover stepped inside the locker room.
“And I hate Judge Hogan. He’s always too handsy. I hope you take that bastard down.”
Okay, then.
“You ready?”
She nodded.
“Good. I’m going to show you to the men’s set of lockers. You’ll carry a handful of towels and make sure you’re covering your name tag with them just in case. If you see anyone, just smile. We have decent turnover in the spa so you should be fine.”
She nodded again because they’d gone over most of this before, but it was clear the other woman was nervous. “I got it. I remember everything you said before. I set the towels down with the rest of them, then go to locker 1210. From there I’ll do what I came to do.”
“Don’t get caught. And if you do—”
“I don’t know you.” Clover wasn’t going to get caught, and if she did, no way was she giving Rebecca up.
The redhead shoved out a sigh, then pasted on a neutral smile and pressed the button.
The doors opened and instead of bleach she was greeted by a soft lavender and eucalyptus scent and a quiet instrumental track blended with ocean waves pumped in from discreet ceiling speakers. And this was just in the hallway.
The tiled floor was a mix of blue and cream—hence the uniforms. Because apparently staff were supposed to blend into the background.
They stopped at an alcove where two staff members were stocking water bottles.
Rebecca smiled at them but didn’t start a conversation. Instead she grabbed a stack of towels and handed them to Clover. “Thank you for dropping these off for me,” she said quietly.
Then she stepped back into the hallway and headed in the opposite direction of Clover.
While she’d been getting her wig prepped, she’d studied the layout of the spa that Micah had given her. He’d gotten the blueprints and Maeve had given even more details. She knew exactly where to go and where the judge’s locker was.
“Can you hear me?” she murmured as she made her way down the hallway.
“Crystal clear,” Micah murmured.
And even with the weirdness between them—which was all her fault—hearing him still grounded her. She passed three women, one carrying a tray of sparkling waters, another carrying towels, and another carrying a basket of what looked like weighted eye masks.
Everyone was on a mission.
She allowed herself a small breath of relief. Of course everyone was busy. They had no reason to suspect she was up to anything. Straightening, she rounded the last hallway and steeled her nerves as she crossed over into the men’s section.
The spa was divided into men only—with the exception of staff—and women only. Men and women could share some of the facilities like the gym and clothing-required sauna, but that was it. Everything else was separated.
Two men were talking quietly by a set of lockers and barely glanced up as she stepped inside with towels. At least they were wearing towels.
“Can I grab one of those?” one guy suddenly said.
“Of course.” She handed him one, smiled politely even as her heart raced.
But he simply nodded his thanks and turned back to his friend as he slung the towel over his shoulders.
As the two of them headed out, she started scanning the lockers. That was the only thing on the layout Micah had found that hadn’t been listed. The numbers.
But everything was in order so…there. Locker 1210.
Moving fast before she could give in to her anxiety, she unlocked the locker using the code Rebecca had given her and rooted around in his bag for his cell.
At the sound of male laughter, she moved faster and eased the door shut. There was no time to punch the code back in to lock it, but it stayed in place at least.
Ducking her head down, she moved quickly down the row of lockers and stepped around the two men entering the locker area.
“Hey… Ah, ma’am.”
She turned at the sound of the guy from before, heart rate jacking up again.
“Did you drop something?”
Oh god, what did she drop? She glanced at her stack of towels that she was still using to cover her name tag. “Uh, no.”
“What about your smile?” He pointed to his mouth, indicating she should smile.
Oh. My. God.
Pure rage punched through her. Was this guy serious? Of course he was. If it was any other circumstances, she’d have had some choice words for him—or you know, throat-punched him. Well, she’d fantasize about it, kinda like she was doing now. But she had to blend in and not go nuclear on him.
“Jesus, John, enough with that shit,” the guy next to him grumbled before she could attempt to fake a smile. “Let the lady do her job.”
She used the man’s friend’s annoyance to duck out. There weren’t many places to hide so she went with a bathroom stall. She knew she wasn’t supposed to use the spa’s facilities and definitely not on the male side, but was going to take her chances.
“I’ve got it,” she whispered as she locked a stall door behind her. “Plugging in your little doohickey.”
Micah snorted through the earpiece and then she could hear soft clicking on his keyboard. “Just a couple of minutes and I’ll be in. Are you good?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, not daring to say anything else as he worked his magic.
One toilet flushed, then another, then—
“Got it all. Holy shit this is good. Are you good to get out of there?”
“Yeah.” Another whisper. She pulled the device out of the phone, then tucked it into her pocket.
Peeking out, she saw the coast was clear and hurried back to the locker room. The “smile jerk” was gone, thankfully, but there were two new men by the lockers.
And one decided that she didn’t blend in and wanted to make conversation.
“Hey, haven’t seen you around.” He approached, his beer belly protruding over his precariously tied towel.
She gave what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “I’m new.”
“I’m Chuck, New.” He laughed at his own joke.
And sweet Jesus, she managed to fake a laugh. As she did, she dropped the towels. “Stupid butterfingers,” she chastised herself.
Thankfully the guy bent down to help her pick them up, his friend joining in.
While they were occupied, she eased open the locker and tossed the judge’s phone in. There was no way to lock the door but hopefully it wouldn’t matter.
“Thank you so much.” She took the man’s outstretched towels. “I’ve got to go toss these in the laundry, but I’ll see you around.” There were baskets everywhere around the space but he didn’t comment on it as she hurried from the room, clutching the towels.
As she exited the men’s locker room she ran into a woman who was almost her height. Tall, with an intimidating presence, the woman frowned at her. “Who are you?” she demanded.
She blinked at the woman’s tone, then froze as Judge Hogan walked past them wearing a thick robe. Back from his massage, then.
Just in time.
He smiled at her and his expression was almost sympathetic, probably because Judy, according to her name tag, looked like she was reading her the riot act. He gave her a small wink before he passed her.
“I’m so sorry about the towels,” she said, springing into action and hurrying down the hallway. “I can’t believe I did that.” She kept rambling, hoping the woman would let her go.
But she kept pace. “You’re not assigned to the men’s locker rooms.”
Well, shit.
“And I want to know your name.”
Clover knew this was about to get messy. No way around it. So she might as well go on the offensive. “What’s your problem, Judy?”
The woman stumbled, maybe because she’d called her by her first name? But come on, it was right there on her tunic.
She moved fast into the staff’s area, and Judy was right behind her. “I’ve asked you twice what your name is—”
Clover tossed the towels in her face and sprinted toward the exit door. There was only one way this was ending and she needed the element of surprise.
“Security!” Judy’s voice rang out behind her as Clover shoved out into the fading sunshine.
Heart pounding, she didn’t have to go far as Micah raced up next to the exit and threw open the passenger door.
She knew the plates were fake, so if Judy managed to get them… As she turned around in her seat she saw that yep, Judy was taking a picture of their getaway vehicle.
“We’ll ditch this and grab another one,” Micah murmured, seeing the same thing she did.
It didn’t ease the rapid beat of her heart. Nothing would do that. Not until they were back at the safe house. “Was this trip at least worth it?”
Micah’s grin was a little scary. “Oh yeah. We hit the motherload on the good judge. By the time we’re through with him he won’t be a judge anymore.”