“Are you serious?”
Sayer leaned forward on one of the desks, his bigger,brawnier arms flexing in the glow of red light. Where had that muscle comefrom? “Dead.”
I shook my head, hating that I was so easilydistracted. “Wh-what?”
“Dead serious,” he clarified. “That’s not going towork down here.”
“Damn it.”
“Eventually, they’ll notice we’re missing,” Gus said.“Maybe.”
“Hopefully,” Jesse echoed. “Has this happened before?Will they realize you’re locked in down here?”
The guys shrugged, turning their attention to merather than Jesse.
I felt them circling like a pack of lions. Like a packof angry, starving, asshole lions. What were they doing here? And why had Iwalked so stupidly into their trap?
I was not a naïve gazelle hanging out at the wateringhole. I was a lion in my own right. Queen of the fucking jungle.
They couldn’t have known I would show up here onopening night. Let’s operate under the assumption that they moved to this townwith the express purpose of confronting me. They wouldn’t have opened up abusiness if they planned to kill me tonight.
If this was a hit job, they would have found me,rolled into town and grabbed me, finished the job and then left again.
No, they were up to something. This was a con. Andobviously a long one. Another one of their games.
They were here for a reason. Yes, the reason wasprobably me. Or Francesca. But either way, they weren’t going to hit and runthis one.
Which meant their cover was as important as mine.
“Serendipity, right, Caro? That we would run into eachother here of all places.” Sayer tapped the desk with his knuckles. “After allthis time.”
Serendipity was the name of one of our old cons. Wewould run into each other in the middle of a party and make a big scene,hugging, laughing, I would start to cry. Then we’d ask someone to take apicture of us, and while I was showing them how to use my phone, I would stealtheir wallet or their hotel key card or whatever.
“Yep,” I mumbled, struggling to stand again in my tooshort skirt. “Serendipity, Sayer.” Only this time I was the mark.
Jesse reached out his hand and I took it, grateful forthe help to my feet. He seemed to sense something was wrong, because he pulledme close to him and dipped his head to ask, “You okay?”
“Claustrophobic.” I blurted. It was a lie. “I’mstarting to freak out.” Truth.
Gus plopped into a leather chair and spun around init. “Relax, kids. Someone will notice we’re gone soon enough. In the meantime,let’s catch up.”
No. Not happening.
Using the darkness to my benefit, I scratched my headin a stressed-out way and moved over to the door. Jiggling the handle, Ichecked out the lock. Whew, not complicated. A simple enough mortise lock.Automatic, but not impossible.
I turned around and pressed my back against the door,bending the bobby pins I’d just retrieved into the right shape. Ideally, Ineeded something more substantial than bobby pins. I wanted my set of curtainpicks or at the very least skinny Allen wrenches.
Now that my fingers were busy, I felt like I couldrelax a smidge. Besides, I needed a little misdirection for Jesse’s sake. “Itreally is good to see you guys after all this time. How’s everybody else? Howare your parents, Gus? Atticus?”
“My dad passed away four years ago,” Gus respondedwith short, clipped consonants. “I thought you knew that.”
“I didn’t know.” There was true emotion in my face andheaviness in my heart at his words. I truly had not known.
Gus had hated his dad. Ozzie was a real and trueasshole. But I still felt sympathy for his loss. Maybe even more so because hehad never had a good father or someone that really loved him. Maybe I felt itmore for him because I knew what it was like to be used by my father and throwninto a world I wanted no part of.
“Sorry to hear that,” I told him sincerely, even if Idisguised it with a brusque response.
“Yeah, well, I’m not,” Gus muttered. I realized I hadtaken him out of his mental game, made him emotional when he hadn’t wanted tobe.
