Zaria’s expression was withering. “Dark market weaponsaremade to cause harm. So no, I’ve never created a gun that doesn’t hurt people.”
That was unfortunate, but it wasn’t going to make or break Kane’s plan. “Fine,” he said. “Once I’ve managed to pick the lock and assuming everything goes according to plan, we’ll want to replace the Waterhouse jewels. It’ll help buy us more time to get as far away as we can. Leaving behind an empty display case would be more than a little conspicuous.”
“And just where are you intending to find a display’s worth of jewelry in less than a week?”
As she spoke, Fletcher rose, a grin playing at the edges of his mouth. Kane watched his friend yank open the wardrobe by the window, already knowing what was about to happen. Zaria tracked Fletcher’s progress with grim distrust as he returned to the table with a linen bag.
When he upended it, her jaw dropped.
“Where did yougetthis?”
Kane surveyed the array of dazzling pieces with satisfaction. They might not have been as extravagant as the pieces in the Waterhouse display, but they were beautiful nonetheless. Of course, he had no intention of replacing the Waterhouse jewels—he’d simply been unable to leave these behind when he’d discovered them in the widow’s home. If they could be used to cement Zaria’s trust, though, all the better for him. “Same place we got the pianoforte.”
She gave a slow shake of her head. “From adead woman.”
“Dead people don’t care if you steal from them.”
“It still seems a bit callous.”
Kane wasn’t about to argue. He pushed back from the table just as Fletcher, still standing, said in a strained voice, “Kane? There’s someone outside.”
ZARIA
ZARIA SCARCELY HAD TIME TO PROCESSFLETCHER’S WORDSbefore Kane was on his feet, extinguishing the candle between two fingers. The last image she had of his face was alarming: eyes hard, jaw soldered in a taut angle. She had the abrupt impression that this was how Kane Durante looked right before he killed somebody.
“Get up,” he snapped, one hand already viselike around her arm as he assisted her to her feet. The next moment he had pushed her up against the exterior wall, out of view of anyone who might be looking in. Indignant at the impropriety of it all, Zaria shoved against him, but she was far too aware of the light pressure of his hand at her waist. The surprisingly nice scent of him and the twist of his lips as her eyes adjusted.
“Anyone could be out there,” she hissed, trying to ignore the uneven cadence of her heart. “You don’t live on a private street, you know.”
“They were masked,” Fletcher said solemnly, drawing a revolver from his waistband. “They must have followed us back from the warehouse.”
Kane cursed. “They know she’s here.”
Ice shot through Zaria’s veins. Her irritation evaporated, replaced by fear. At the same time, though, part of her was relieved that whoever it was had come here instead of to the pawnshop. When would this end?
Fletcher shook his head at Kane, who had withdrawn his gun as well. “I’m going alone.”
“Like hell you are,” Kane snarled, and his friend shot him an aggrieved look.
“We can’t very well leave her by herself.”
At that, Kane faltered, gaze flicking toward Zaria. She crossed her arms, feeling her face heat. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
They both ignored her. Fletcher was squinting out the window again. “I think they’re gone anyway. They must have realized they were seen.”
“How many?” Kane said.
“Two.”
“Then let’s find them.”
“And risk them coming back for her while she’s alone?”
Kane appeared to be fighting some internal battle with himself, his jaw working. Eventually, he said, “Fine. If you don’t see anyone, come right back. Don’t go looking for them without me.”
“I don’t think—” Zaria began, but something about his expression had her biting off what she’d been about to say. She didn’t want Fletcher going out there alone, she realized, and not only because it would drive Kane mad. She was so very tired of putting other people at risk.
“I’ll be careful,” Fletcher assured Kane, then shot Zaria a crooked grin. “You really have a way of pissing people off, Miss Mendoza.”
