Nyssa Glass and the Caper Crisis

by Burke, H. L.

  Footsteps pounded from the front room, and Red burst in. “Chief? What happened?”

  “Just making a point, Red.” Chief set the gun down. “You think you can get him to the junkyard without drawing attention to yourself? I’ve got a deal with the man who runs the incinerator there.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve. Do you think they’re still open?”

  “Doesn’t matter. No one pokes around inside the incinerator. Put him in a burlap bag and toss him in … when they light it up after Christmas, the evidence goes up in smoke.”

  Nyssa clutched Barney’s still warm hand. You stood up for me, you poor old man. Why did you have to do that?

  “So, Nyssa Glass, do we got an understanding?” Chief asked.

  “Yes,” Nyssa hissed through her teeth.

  “Good. Tonight we’ll hit the old man’s shop … and if I hear any more of this ‘quitting the business’ business, you’ll have one last choice: the street corner or the incinerator.”

  A chill ran through Nyssa. Shock me. What am I going to do?

  Chapter Four

  A sour taste filled Nyssa’s mouth as she walked down the empty New Taured streets. Chief traveled at her elbow, shooting her a glare every time they passed a straggling pedestrian scurrying home for Christmas Eve dinner.

  Feather-light snowflakes swirled about them, glistening like diamonds in the gas street-lights. Nyssa’s nose stung, from the cold, yes, but also from being rubbed red until she’d hopelessly soiled the last of her three ragged handkerchiefs.

  “I’m glad you finally stopped bawling.” Chief paused to read a street sign before gripping her arm in a painful squeeze and pulling her off the well-lit main road into an alley. “Tears and business don’t mix.”

  Nyssa wiped her nose on her sleeve. “You didn’t have to kill Barney.”

  “It shut you up, didn’t it?” He sneered. “Next time you’ll think twice about mouthing off to me.” He reached into his vest and pulled out a pair of goggles which he slipped over his eyes. After a moment messing with the dials on the side of the eye-pieces, he nodded.

  She recoiled. Those goggles look awful familiar. “What are those?” she asked, wondering if he actually would admit to stealing from the man he’d murdered so coldly mere hours before.

  Chief met her stare and shrugged. “New equipment … they’ve got like three settings, including night vision. Come on.”

  The back alleys hadn’t been cleared the way the sidewalks on the main streets had. Nyssa’s boots squelched in slush well past her ankles. Judging from the draft tickling her side, her threadbare coat had a new hole in the armpit. She clamped her arms to her side to keep the heat in and doggedly followed Chief into the darkness.

  “W … w ...where’s Red?” she stammered. She bit her lip to keep her jaw from shaking.

  “Sent him ahead to make sure you didn’t have the police watching the place.” He snorted. “Figured after your idiocy today, I couldn’t be too careful. Ah, this should be about it.”

  They slipped through a passageway between two brick warehouses and stood in a narrow but clean alleyway. Some of the two-story buildings looming above them had lights on in the upper floors. Nyssa recognized the clock tower that jutted over the line of shops, it’s face glowing golden against the inky clouds.

  “Just in case you get any wild ideas about taking off, Red’s watching the front, and I’ll be here in the back.” Chief pointed towards the doorway. “If you run, we’ll grab you. If you fumble your part of this heist, accidentally or otherwise, you’ll pay for it. Dearly.”

  Nyssa swallowed. “I know what I’m doing.” Which is all the work … Their various roles had always been clearly defined. Chief was the mastermind, picking the jobs and laying out the plan. Red was the heavy, standing watch and applying force if anything went sideways. Nyssa … well, she was everything else, the talent, cracking safes and disabling alarms, and tonight she’d fulfill her part flawlessly—or else.

  I’ve never had a choice. She blinked back hot tears. One escaped and tumbled down her cheek, cooling as it went. Surprisingly it didn’t form an icicle on her chin. The moment my uncle snatched me from my parents’ funeral, it was crime or starvation … and here I am, about to do the worst thing in my life. Dear God, I know we haven’t talked since my mom died, but please, please, please, let me find a way out of this. Shock me, I don’t want to be a person who would rob that nice old man, but I also don’t want to die. Isn’t there a third option? Just between us?

  “Well, move your feet.”

  In the dark alleyway, Chief appeared as a menacing shadow. The faint light from the illuminated clock tower glinted off his goggles, giving him an almost insectoid appearance. Somehow they’d looked much friendlier on their previous owner.

  Gears wound to life in Nyssa’s brain. There might be a chance …

  She cleared her throat. “Those goggles used to belong to Barney. He wore them on the last job we did together.”

  He squared his shoulders. “What’s it to you?”

  “It’s just he used their settings to detect hidden alarm systems … They might come in handy for me, and you don’t really need them to watch this alleyway.”

  Chief tilted his head. “I thought you already scoped out the alarms?”

  “I tried, but I was distracted.” She exhaled. “It wouldn’t hurt to be extra careful.” It’s such a long shot … but it’s the best bet I have right now.

  Chief pulled off the goggles and passed them to her. “All right. We’ll take the cost of them out of your share of the loot.” He snickered.

  Nyssa grimaced, wondering how it had taken her so long to realize she’d never get any share from Chief.

  The goggles sat loose around her head, so she tightened the leather strap and carefully positioned them over her eyes. Eerie green light bathed the alleyway, allowing her to see individual bricks in the workshop wall. Not the setting I want. She fiddled with the dials. The second setting caused the outline of the door to glow a faint yellow. Nyssa couldn’t help but grin.

  Nice, electric field detection. This is a fine toy. Wish I’d had more chances to play with it.

  With the field detector, it was easy enough to see the alarm wires she’d already suspected were there. If she forced the door, the alarm would sound. However, thanks to Mr. Calloway’s trusting nature, that wouldn’t be necessary. Part of her had wanted to destroy the wax impression she’d taken at the shop, but Chief knew her too well and had flat out asked if she’d managed to get one. Already shaken by Barney’s fate, Nyssa had blurted out the truth and handed over the wax when cornered. Now she slipped the copy-key out and opened the door.

  No alarms sounded. Her skin tingled in the warm air of the shop—apparently Mr. Calloway left the furnace running overnight—as she eased the door shut behind her. The whole shop gleamed with electric fields.

  The safe called to her. If she were to complete the break-in, life would continue as always. She wouldn’t have to take this risk, and shock it all, it was a risk. A huge, terrible risk. Even in the best-case scenario, she’d end up in jail … but jail wasn’t dead, and in jail she couldn’t hurt anyone else, not Barney, not Mr. Calloway, and not the poor little orphans under a leaky roof.

  She crept past the safe, into the main shop. Yes, she’d located most of the alarms during her casing, but not the one she needed now. Not the silent alarm.

  It’ll be near the cash register … ah, there. A single wire, glowing with power, snaked up the side of the counter to just under the lip. Please let this be the right choice. She felt in the area until her fingers met a switch. Her heart pounding, she toggled it on.

  Nothing happened, though she supposed that was the point of a silent alarm.

  I have maybe ten minutes before Chief starts to get suspicious about me taking so long … hopefully the police are quick.

  She returned to the backroom and stopped in her tracks. In her haste to get to the silent alarm, she hadn’t noticed Mrs. Victor�
��s repaired lamp standing in the middle of the worktable. Her throat tightened to keep down a sob.

  I guess fixing things is out of the question. Shock me, I just broke my own life.

  The floor creaked behind Nyssa. An electric charge rushed through her nervous system.

  “Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly. I’m armed,” an all-too-familiar voice snapped.

  Swallowing, Nyssa obeyed.

  Mr. Calloway’s jaw dropped open. “You? But … but why?”

  Chapter Five

  Nyssa sat with her knees against her chest in the tiny cell. The metal bench, the only furniture on her side of the bars, was only slightly more comfortable than the floor. Cold seeped through the seat of her trousers. The booking officer had taken her boots, and now her stocking-clad toes ached from the chill. Small mercies, though, the police had been perceptive enough to house their young female prisoner in a separate area from her two male co-conspirators. When they’d dragged Chief into the station, his face glowed with purple rage … both terrifying and oddly satisfying.

  She could see two officers doing paperwork at their desks just outside the holding area. Steam wafted off a cup in front of one of them.

  What I wouldn’t do for a hot cup of tea right now. Nyssa sighed. Her heart still ached remembering the look of disappointment on Mr. Calloway’s face as he’d stared at her from the other side of a cocked revolver. It had taken all her composure not to melt down crying then and there and beg for forgiveness … she probably should’ve apologized, but she had to make sure he understood that Red and Chief were lurking. With this information, he’d managed to use his radioset to tell the police how to nab those two.

  A gust of air blew across the station.

  One of the officers stood from his desk. “Oh, Mr. Calloway, you didn’t have to come down. Is something wrong?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  Nyssa’s soul crumpled. How could she face him again? After how kind he’d been to her and what he’d caught her doing?

  The voices outside sank to murmurs. Finally she gave up trying to hear and closed her eyes. According to the tower clock, it had been just after midnight when the police had taken her from Mr. Calloway’s shop. Between booking and how long she’d been sitting in silence, it had to be nearly dawn. Her eyes stung and watered, and every nerve felt like a frayed wire.

  ***

  The sound of footsteps jerked her awake. Mr. Calloway stood on the other side of the bars, clutching a cardboard box, his eyes sad.

  She flushed and dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  He set the box on the floor. “You’re forgiven.”

  Nyssa blinked. He’s really going to make it that easy on me? I robbed him … or tried to, sort of. Rising from the bench, she cleared her throat. “So … what are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to check on you. I’ve been talking about your case with the captain for the last few hours.”

  Hours? Nyssa stared past him into the booking room. Yes, that was sunlight filtering through the high windows. “Why?”

  “Because you tripped the silent alarm then told me exactly where your compatriots were hiding when I confronted you.” He laughed. “At first I just thought you were inexperienced, but apparently the captain here has a file five inches thick about you. Nothing concrete, just rumors about a small gang of thieves with a preteen burglar as a key member. Some vague eyewitness descriptions you match.” He leaned against the bars. “In other words, you’re not some amateur, are you?”

  “I’ve … I probably shouldn’t say anything without a lawyer.” She bit her bottom lip. Not that I can afford one, but I’m already in enough trouble without admitting how many jobs I’ve done.

  “So, assuming that is true, could you tell me how in the world you let me catch you?” He tilted his head.

  Nyssa concentrated on her feet. “I … I couldn’t let them take the money, after hearing what it was for and how it would help people, but Chief wouldn’t listen to me and said if I didn’t … I just couldn’t.”

  “And what happens to you now?” His voice hardened. “You’ve been caught red-handed in the middle of a burglary. Even for someone as young as you, that’s a serious crime, and with what the police suspect about your history, they’ll hardly be inclined to give you a slap on the wrists. Did you think of that at all?”

  Nyssa vision blurred, and her throat tightened. She managed a nod. “I couldn’t,” she repeated. Drawing a deep breath, she steadied herself to where she could return his gaze. “It’s not like I had much to lose. I wanted out. The only way Chief lets someone leave the gang is in a wooden box or a police wagon. Of those two options, police wagon seemed slightly better.” Slightly.

  “I see.” He bent down and opened the box. “The arresting officer let me take a look at your belongings.” He drew out Barney’s goggles. “I have to admit, I got a kick out of these. Rather ingenious.”

  “Yeah, they’re handy.” She crossed her arms, wondering where this was going.

  “They also found this in your vest pocket.” Mr. Calloway held up the brochure for Miss Pratchett’s School for Mechanically Minded Maids.

  Nyssa’s stomach hardened into a knot.

  “Good school. I actually know the headmistress.”

  She averted her eyes. If not for Mr. Calloway’s previous kindness, she would’ve thought he was taunting her. That dream was dead. Miss Pratchett took charity students, yes, but not criminal ones.

  “I was serious, you know, when I suggested you should consider trade school. That deftness you showed with my tools, the ability to see through a problem to the cause and therefore a solution—” He drew closer. “That can’t be taught.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “I’m nothing special.”

  “Oh, I think you are.” He passed the brochure through the bars.

  She glanced from it to him but didn’t reach for it.

  “Go on. Please?” He smiled again, the same kind smile that he’d used before he knew she was a thief and a liar.

  She took the brochure.

  “Look, the police aren’t particularly interested in you. They know this ‘Chief’ fellow is the mastermind. If you can give them something about his previous crimes, anything to put him away longer than for ‘attempted’ robbery, they’ll cut you a deal. Helps if you have some evidence. Can you think of anything they can use?”

  Nyssa’s mind shot to Barney’s body, still probably waiting to be incinerated at the junkyard. “I might. But … but why?”

  “Because everyone deserves a second chance, and when I look at you, I don’t see a thief.” He put his hand through the bars and touched her shoulder. “I see a scared child who I’m guessing hasn’t been given a lot of choices in her lifetime.”

  Nyssa’s bottom lip trembled. She swallowed a sob and quickly dabbed at her eyes.

  “I’ve made a call to a friend of mine down at the courthouse,” Mr. Calloway continued. “He was having his Christmas breakfast, but said he’d run right down and ink you out a fair deal, probably probation, but if you’re in trade school, making good grades with an apprenticeship lined up for after graduation—”

  Her jaw dropped. “An … an apprenticeship?”

  “Yes, you didn’t think my motives for being here were totally selfless, did you?” His eyes twinkled. “I could use someone like you around the shop. I’m older now, and sometimes the work and dealing with customers, it gets to be a bit much. You wouldn’t be interested in that, would you?”

  “Yes!” she burst out, bouncing in place like an excited toddler. She blushed and calmed herself. “Yes, I would … thank you.”

  “I think we’ve gotten a bit ahead of ourselves.” Mr. Calloway laughed. He put out his hand. “My name is Franklin Calloway, but most call me Mr. C. And you?”

  She shook his hand. “Nyssa Glass, sir.”

  “Well, Merry Christmas, Nyssa Glass. I think this is going to be the start of a brilliant new life for you.”

 
; The End

  ABOUT H. L. Burke

  Born in a small town in north central Oregon, H. L. Burke spent most of her childhood around trees and farm animals and always accompanied by a book. Growing up with epic heroes from Middle Earth and Narnia keeping her company, she also became an incurable romantic.

  An addictive personality, she jumped from one fandom to another, being at times completely obsessed with various books, movies, or television series (Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, and Star Trek all took their turns), but she has grown to be what she considers a well-rounded connoisseur of geek culture.

  Married to her high school crush who is now a US Marine, she has moved multiple times in her adult life but believes home is wherever her husband, two daughters, and pets are.

  For information about H. L. Burke’s latest novels, author news and events, or to contact the writer, go to

  www.hlburkeauthor.com

  and sign up for the author’s newsletter!

  Also by H. L. Burke

  For Middle Grade Readers

  Thaddeus Whiskers and the Dragon

  Cora and the Nurse Dragon

  For Young Adult Readers

  An Ordinary Knight

  Beggar Magic

  Nyssa Glass and the House of Mirrors

  Nyssa Glass and the Juliet Dilemma

  Nyssa Glass and the Cutpurse Kid

  Nyssa Glass’s Clockwork Christmas

  Nyssa Glass and the Electric Heart

  The Elemental Realms Series

  An Epic Fantasy Saga

  Book One: Lands of Ash

  Book Two: Call of the Waters

  The Dragon and the Scholar Saga (1-4)

  A Fantasy Romance Series

  Dragon’s Curse

  Dragon’s Debt

  Dragon’s Rival

  Dragon’s Bride

  And now, an excerpt from

  Nyssa Glass and the House of Mirrors