“Who writes stuff in a book instead of putting on their phone?”
“An older lady who’s set in her ways. And maybe he left it to implicate us?”
“If he wanted to frame us, that would be a smart move.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “And then there was a smashed window and a gunfight in the apartment over your warehouse.” She sighed. “I guess it’s lucky we didn’t stick around to make a police report.”
He slowed when they entered the city, then took a route to the Garden District.
“Where are we going?”
“To pick up a different vehicle.”
“How many do you have?”
“Like I said, several.”
They drove into an alley running in back of a row of painted ladies–Victorian mansions that were decked out in multiple colors in the New Orleans tradition. Behind the formal garden of a mauve, green and purple house was adetached garage where Jake exchanged the Mercedes for a blue-panel truck with the back and side windows blacked out.
“Do you transport drugs in this thing?” she asked as she transferred her travel bag to the back of the vehicle.
“Actually, I used it to pick up antiques from estate sales. I bought it secondhand and never bothered to put my name on the side.”
“Lucky for us.”
They turned toward the French Quarter and drove past her shop. The Closed sign was still on the door, and there was no one hanging around.
“Would they have stationed an officer inside?” Rachel asked.
“Don’t know. But they’re probably not expecting us to come back.”
“We don’t have to go in from the street. There’s a back way into my apartment. Then we can go down the inside stairway we used the other day.”
“Good.”
“Drive around to the alley. There’s a small lot in back of a dress shop a few doors down from my place, but it went out of business.”
When they pulled in, Jake asked her to wait while he took a quick look around.
As he stepped out of view, she felt her stomach clench. She might be having trouble coping with being so open to him when they were touching, but having him out of her sight was worse. At least when they were in so much trouble.
When he reappeared, she breathed out a small sigh.
“Looks like the coast is clear.”
They climbed up an outside stairway to a second-story balcony, then onto the roof of Rachel’s shop. A fire escape led to her apartment.
They climbed again, and she stopped when she came to the window, which was locked.
“Let me have a go at it,” Jake said.
When she stepped aside, he started jiggling the frame, and it didn’t take too long before the old lock sprang open.
“Nice!” she muttered.
“Sorry. I guess you should get new ones when this is all over.”
“If it’s ever over.”
