Marcy laughed.
“Not a joke,” Frances said calmly. “She was the best in the business. That we knew of, anyway. It’s not like we were running around with other safecrackers, but occasionally, we’d hear about this ‘girl gang’ who could crack safes like no one else. We were pretty sure we were the only girl gang around. Edie had a great ear and a great eye for detail. Oh, and she was also our femme fatale. If we ever needed a lure, she was it. She’s beautiful now … but you should have seen her then.”
“She doesn’t have any pictures,” Marcy said glumly.
“You look a lot like she did then.” Marcy didn’t have that killer look that Edie had had at her age, but she was a beautiful young woman. “Wait here,” Frances said. She went into her room and dug in her bag until she found the picture of the four of them against the stone wall at her family’s house in Southampton. She returned to the living room and handed it to Marcy.
Marcy’s brows rose. She studied the picture a long moment, using the tip of one finger to trace the outline of Edie. “Wow,” she said softly. “You were all so …”
“Young. I know,” Frances said.
“You said you had a reason. Why did you do it?” Marcy asked.
“To right wrongs. We always did it to right a wrong. Well, except for that one time in the convenience store, but mostly to right wrongs.”
Marcy’s finger stilled on the photo. “Is that why you’re here? To right a wrong done to me?”
“You’re a clever little cookie,” Frances said. “But I think only Edie is here to right a wrong this time. Me? I’m here on a last gasp of fun before old age takes me. And Joan and Irene? I’m pretty sure they are here to be together.”
“Yeah, I noticed that,” Marcy said absently, her gaze on the picture.
How did everyone but Frances notice that? “Okay, kiddo,” she said, and put her hands on her hips. “You look like you can move. Get up, clean yourself up. We have things to do.”
“We do?”
“Nana said to keep an eye on you, and I don’t trust you to go chasing after her again, so you’re coming with me. I admire your tenacity and your talent, but you’re being very annoying with the chasing. I would suggest you cut it out.”
Marcy looked as if she wanted to argue, but Frances shook her head. “Come on. Let’s get going.”
Marcy dutifully stood up and walked into the bathroom.
While Frances was waiting for Marcy to get her game face on, she mapped out a couple of used car lots nearby, pulled on a wig, donned a sensible cardigan and shoes that fastened with Velcro. When Marcy at last emerged, her dark hair slicked back, Frances handed her a wide-brimmed hat and a pair of sunglasses that would cover most of her face.
Frances was under strict instructions from Joan not to useany app that could be traced back to her—such as Uber—so Frances told Marcy they would walk to the Strip and get a cab.
On the way there, Marcy perked up. She had questions.Lotsof questions. “Did you ever get caught?” she asked as they stood on the street corner waiting for a cab.
“No,” Frances said. She would not count Edie’s betrayal as getting caught.
“If I googled you, would anything come up?” she asked as Frances hailed a cab.
“My pickleball scores,” Frances said. “We were very good at what we did, and that meant keeping our anonymity. The trick was to get away from a heist as quickly as possible without anyone knowing we’d even been there.”
“‘Heist,’” Marcy repeated with a chuckle of amusement.
A cab pulled over, and Frances made Marcy scoot across the seat. She gave the cabbie an address and settled back. The cabbie turned up the radio and the baseball game he was listening to.
“Is that what you’re going to do now? A heist?” Marcy whispered.
Frances put her finger to her lips.
“Because you’re all old now, so you can’t really do what you did back then, right? I mean physically. Probably mentally, too. Nana can’t find her keys half the time.”
“You’re being annoying again,” Frances said, her gaze narrowing. “We are older, not old. But even if we were ancient, you could sit back and take a few notes and maybe learn a thing or two.”
Marcy snorted, which, Frances was learning, is what she did when she thought one of her elders was being ridiculous. Aw, youth—so fearless andsofucking annoying.
At the car lot, as a salesman barreled toward them, Marcy asked what they intended to do. “Like, the plan,” she said, looking for details of the actual heist.
