‘She probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to know we’d brought her children along,’ Dean said.
Bel’s gaze went back to the four-wheel drive parked nearby in the shadows. They’d had little choice there, considering they couldn’t very well get a babysitter in while they smuggled a stolen artefact back to the museum, Indiana Jones–style. Instead, they’d decided to use the treat of going out to dinner as their alibi. Once the kids had fallen asleep on the return trip from Toormanlee, they planned to slip Elvis back under the cover of darkness. ‘She wasn’t too concerned about her kids when she considered committing Wilful and Obscene Exposure,’ Bel said under her breath.
‘What?’
‘Doesn’t matter. Let’s just get this over and done with.’
They stopped beside the back door of the old church and Dean took out his pocketknife. ‘Keep watch.’
‘For who?’ she asked scathingly.
‘For … I don’t know, the police? Someone coming?’
‘It’sWessex.’
‘Do you want to explain to anyone what we’re doing here?’
‘Fine. I’ll keep watch. But hurry up.’
She heard him mutter something but didn’t bother asking him to repeat it. This whole thing was a gigantic shitshow.
She turned once she heard a small click and exhaled a rush of air when the door opened and no alarms went off. Not that she was expecting there to have been a high-tech security system installed over the last few days, but she’d never handled stressful situations very well.
Dean picked up the hessian bag and silently led the way inside. The museum was morbid enough in daylight, with its creepy old mannequins dressed up in vintage fashions, without the almost total darkness adding to the horror-movie effect.
Bel followed Dean, rationally lecturing herself that this was no different to being here in daylight and trying not to knock anything over.
On reaching the glass cabinet, they had a problem.
‘It’s locked,’ Dean whispered incredulously. ‘Why would they lock an empty case?’
Oh, for heaven’s sake. ‘Just leave it beside the case.’
Dean hesitated briefly and then removed the rooster from the bag and sat it on the floor. ‘Okay. Let’s get out of here.’
They retraced their steps through the old church faster than they’d come and slipped through the back door and out into the cool night air once more. Bel felt better the further they left the case behind. Her heart was racing as though she’d just completed a jewellery heist instead of simply returning a stuffed rooster.
Back in the car, with the kids still sound asleep, she let out a long sigh.
‘Glad that’s over,’ Dean said, starting the car and driving away without switching on his headlights, as though he’d been committing illegal activities his entire life.
‘How did you know how to pick a lock?’ she asked, suddenly remembering that small detail.
‘I may or may not have had occasion in my youth to open locked gun cabinets to go shooting without my old man’s consent.’
‘You know, this whole break-and-enter thing is actually kind of hot,’ she said. She saw a twitch of a smile touch his mouth.
‘Yeah?’
‘Kind of.’
‘Maybe we can reenact it later.’
Not a chance in hell.She hoped they’d never have to relive any of the last few days ever again. She was well and truly sick of Elvis the bloody rooster.
Emma’s return felt like Christmas, only a thousand times better. The kids were excited to have their mum home. But Emma had lost weight and, despite the cheerful front she put on for her family, Bel could see the dark circles under her eyes and the exhaustion beneath her smile.
Sitting on the lounge together after the kids had finally gone to bed, the two women drank wine and talked quietly.
