“Close call,” Anika said, pulling back from the three-foot wall.
“You got that right. If those cans had hit the mailbox, it would have brought out all of the neighbors, and we’d have to make a run for the car,” I said, scanning the side of Anika’s old home. The two-story, brick structure was laced with wiry weeds. At least half of the shrubs appeared to be dead, while the remaining few had grown wildly. It looked like an abandoned house.
Cristina brushed by my shoulder as she made her way over to the door. “And you think it’s best if I go to college?” she snickered, flicking a thumb over her shoulder toward the road.
“UT-San Antonio is only a couple of miles away from here,” Anika added.
I nodded. “Toga party.”
“That’s what a college education will buy you these days,” Cristina said, pulling out her phone and shining a light on her set of lock picks.
I realized now was not the time to try to talk her into getting her GED and then attending college. Not when we were about to commit a felony.
“How long is this going to take?” I could already feel a sense of urgency, every second that ticked by making me feel more anxious about what we were doing.
With Cristina on her knees, and Anika pointing the flashlight of her phone onto the door lock, my ECHO partner stopped moving. “As long as it takes. This shit is unpredictable.”
“Unpredictable as in an hour, or unpredictable as in a couple of minutes?”
“Yes.”
That was her way of telling me she had no idea and the more I talked to her, the more our entry would be delayed.
While I continued to swivel my sights between the back alley and the street in front of the house, I was most concerned about the house hulking directly in front of me. “Who lives next door, Anika?”
“Pretty sure it’s the same couple as when I lived here. They’re old and deaf and both use walkers.”
“But you didn’t say blind.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said.
Low clouds drifted across the sky, covering most of the stars and the moon. I shuffled back and put a hand on Cristina’s shoulder. “Need any help?”
“Not from you.”
“Just asking. Sheesh,” I said.
“Have you ever picked locks before?” Anika asked.
“It’s been a while,” I said.
“She used to be a hellion,” Cristina said. “I know that’s difficult to see now, but there wasn’t a rule or law that Ivy didn’t break back in the day. Back when she didn’t let society dictate how she ran her life.”
I placed my hands at my hips. “Seriously? You think I’m a prude because I don’t break into people’s homes? If we get caught, ECHO is probably history, which means your paycheck is history. And then I guess you’ll get your wish, because I’ll either be in jail or huddled in a sleeping bag inside a doorway to an abandoned warehouse.”
Cristina laughed quietly. “You got me on that one. I guess I need to grow up and understand what makes the world go around.”
“Exactly.”
“Right after we break into this home,” she deadpanned.
A dog barked, and I jerked my head toward the back of the alley.
“That fucking pooch never shuts up,” Anika said. “He probably smells our scent.”
“Is he a hunting dog?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But he’s always yelping, so the owners won’t think anything of it.”
Cristina continued to work the lock, her lips pressed together in concentration. “This raking pick should have done the trick,” she grunted. “Now I’m wondering if the pins in the lock are different sizes. I’ll give it another few seconds. And then I’ll need to—”
Click.
“Got it,” she said, blowing out a breath. She pocketed her case of lock picks and let Anika in the house.
“You two want to stay out here and keep watch?” Anika said, leaning outside the door.
“We’re going with you,” I said, pushing past her into a living room barren of furniture.
Cristina quietly closed the door behind us and then turned her flashlight on.
“Off,” Anika and I said in tandem.
“I know where I’m going. No need to draw eyes from outside,” Anika said, slipping through the kitchen. The three of us gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Glass-paned doors were attached to the room to our right—maybe it was used as an office. On the other side of the foyer, I saw a narrow strip of crown molding riming a large room.
“Nice house,” I said.
“Mom and Dad always liked to think they had money, but they were too much alike. They could never face reality.”
I wondered if there might be any clues in the house that would lead us to her parents, but we didn’t have the time or the opportunity to investigate every room in detail, and with no lighting, the effort wouldn’t serve much purpose. Plus, I wasn’t about to take my eyes off Anika and wherever she had this key.
“Lead the way,” I said, extending a hand in front of me.
We walked up the stairs quietly, then moved down the hallway. Anika turned into a bathroom. “It’s in here?” I asked.
Anika didn’t respond. I looked at Cristina, who shrugged her shoulders.
Anika opened the cabinet under the sink, then practically climbed inside. Leaning over, I could only see that her hands were around a plastic pipe. “Tell me you didn’t hide it inside that nasty pipe.”
“I didn’t,” she said, torqueing her body left and right.
“What are you doing then?”
I heard her fussing around—sounded like she was unscrewing something. A moment later, she held up a curved plastic pipe. “That’s gross.” Cristina pointed at it while taking a step backward. “Do you know the kind of shit living in bathroom pipes?”
“It’s not going to bite,” she said. “It’s a faux pipe.”
“You have a fake pipe under your sink?” I asked.
“Everyone thinks it’s an overflow from the AC unit in the attic. But it’s just an extra pipe that I installed; it’s cut off from any water. It fits into the wall, and I plugged the other end to keep it dry.”
She turned the pipe upside down and shook it. A pouch eventually slid out into her hand. She opened the pouch and held up a key.
“Great hiding place,” Cristina said.
“I used to hide weed in it as well. It’s served its purpose.” I thought she might laugh, but the look on her face was serious.
I led our exit from the bathroom onto the landing. A beam of light brushed by the front windows just below us. I stumbled over Cristina’s feet while backing up.
“Crap, someone’s outside,” I said.
Anika guided us into an empty bedroom and then peered out her window.
“It’s the cops. Two officers walking around with flashlights,” Anika said. “And there’s old man Saunders.”
“The guy from next door you said would never hear us?” I asked.
“That’s the one. Maybe he got a hearing aid.”
I noticed Cristina walking around, looking inside the closet, not paying much attention to the drama around us.
“You do know if we get caught, we’re screwed,” I said to Cristina.
“Just call Stan. He’s our inside guy with the police,” she said with her back to me.
“Stan’s a good guy, but we can’t put him in the position of having to get us out of jail for committing a felony,” I said. “Besides that, how do we explain ourselves? We were working an undercover operation for a secret police investigation?”
“Nice start. I can embellish that if you want.”
I released a frustrated sigh and started walking to the window.
“Hold up,” Anika said. “Lights are moving up this way.”
A second later, beams of light flashed across the window, spraying against the ceiling. Anika and I were on the floor.
“Cristina, get your ass down
,” I said, waving an arm.
“Hey, Anika, this was your old room, right?” Cristina said from inside the closet, ignoring my instructions.
Now I ignored Cristina, turning to Anika. “If we hear a door open downstairs, do you have any ideas?”
Just then we heard a click.
“Oh fuck.” Anika jumped up and ran out of the bedroom. “Come on,” I said, tapping Cristina on the shoulder.
“You wouldn’t believe what I just found,” she said as she followed me out of the room. I could hear the clip of shoes off tile from downstairs, as more light splashed off windows and ceilings. Anika darted down the hall and into another room.
Is she trying to escape on her own, leaving me and Cristina here to take the fall?
I took off after her, cutting into the room. She was in the far corner, grunting as she tried to lift a window.
“Damn thing is stuck.”
I ran over and grabbed hold, pushing upward with everything I had. “Cops coming up the steps?” I asked at Cristina.
She leaned out the door. “Not yet. Just flashlights everywhere. What happens when you guys get the window open?”
Anika was now down on her knees, pushing up, using her shoulder to get better leverage, but the window wouldn’t open any farther than about six inches. “We can step on the roof just outside the window, then walk down to the top of the fence and jump off. Then we’re home free.”
“We’re going to be the opposite of free if we don’t get this fucking thing open,” I said, sweat dripping off my nose.
“Let me in there,” Cristina said.
Anika moved away, giving Cristina room to move in next to me. She looked me in the eye. “On the count of three, we both push upward like our lives depend on it.”
“That’s relevant.”
She counted down from three, and we both growled and pushed in perfect unison. The window shot up the track, pounding the top of the frame. Two of window panes shattered, sending shards of glass onto the shingles. The cacophony of sounds could have woken the dead.
“Shit,” Anika said, scooting between us and out the window before I could say a word.
Hearing mumbled voices from outside the room, Cristina and I locked eyes. “Get out.” I pushed Cristina through the opening, and I followed just behind her. Straddling the windowsill, a cone of light flashed against the bedroom door.
I swung my leg over the sill and immediately slipped on the glass scattered across the roof. I fell hard on my butt.
“Come on, Ivy,” Christina said, a foot on the top of the wooden fence.
“The window,” a man yelled from inside.
Cursing under my breath, I shimmied down the angled roof, but quickly realized I was moving too fast. Cristina’s brown eyes doubled in size just before I rammed into her. She tried to keep her balance on the fence but lost the battle and tumbled to the driveway. I fell back toward the roof, landing flat on my face and hands. Just as I pushed upward to get to my knees, a cop poked his head out of the window, his flashlight scanning the yard to my right.
Without thinking, I bounced to my feet and jumped off the roof, planting a single foot on the fence, then dropping into darkness on the other side. “Hey, stop where you are!” a voice boomed while I was midair.
I landed, but never touched the concrete of the driveway. Cristina yelped when my knees cracked against her back.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” I said, rolling off her. “Quit screwing around,” Anika said from the edge of the alley. “Let’s get out of here.”
Moaning like an old lady, Cristina got to one knee. I pulled her up the rest of the way. “Damn, Ivy, you must be trying to kill me.”
“Funny. Let’s get out of here.” I ran around the corner of the fence and up the alley. A second later, Anika bolted out of darkness and blew by me, heading in the other direction.
“Dog,” she yelled, not wasting another moment to explain what she meant.
I guessed it was that damn dog we’d heard earlier. Paws scraped concrete—I planted a foot and reversed my direction. Cristina had just reached a jogging pace. “Other way,” I said, tugging on her arm.
“What?”
“The fucking dog.” I jumped and pointed toward the darkness.
“I think you bruised my rib,” she groaned.
“Come on, come on,” I said, waving my arm. Flashlights from the second floor of Anika’s old home splashed across the yard and just over our heads. I could hear radio signals chirp. I could also hear the jingle of a dog collar. I picked up the pace, swinging my arms faster, Cristina now ahead of me. My hand smacked my pocket.
My Tootsie Roll.
Fishing the candy out of my pocket, I tossed it over my head and hoped like hell the dog was hungry for something other than human flesh.
It seemed to have worked.
Cristina and I followed Anika as she sprinted left down an adjoining alley. I passed Cristina like she was standing still. “You out of shape?” I asked.
“Do you have ears? I think you broke my rib,” she said.
Now wasn’t the time for sympathy. I caught up to Anika, pulled out my car keys, and jumped behind the wheel, Anika in the front passenger seat. I started the car and switched the gear to drive, my foot on the brake. With one arm on the open door, I encouraged Cristina.
“Get your ass in this car,” I said, as I spotted flashlights coming around the bend of the alley.
She was a good twenty yards away, when I heard a booming bark that rattled my own rib cage. I leaned forward to look behind Cristina at the same time she turned around and saw what was barreling for her.
“You never said that dog was a pit bull,” I shouted at Anika.
Cristina pumped her arms and doubled her speed in seconds, but I saw fear in her eyes.
Ten yards and closing.
I clicked the latch to pop my seat forward. Anika and I both shouted as the barking grew louder. Lights shone from behind Cristina, and the outline of her body appeared as a silhouette.
“Faster,” I yelled, shaking my leg with nervous anticipation.
From four feet out, Cristina put her hands together and dove into the backseat. I swung the door shut, clipping her shoes. The dog had also taken a leap, and he landed with a thud against the side of the car.
“Punch it,” Cristina yelled.
Tires squealed, and I drove like a bat out of hell until we exited the neighborhood.
None of us said a word for the next fifteen minutes, then Cristina said, “I think you broke my rib, Ivy.”
Our next stop was the emergency room.
11
I sifted through a random magazine. Nothing but pictures of pretty people, men and women alike, all showing off their perfect abs, their perfect breasts, their perfect asses. Million-dollar smiles were the norm, and each toted either a perfect-looking mate, a hot car, or a mansion that could hold the wedding reception for George Clooney and his thirty-something bride.
I popped my finger on the next page. “Speak of the devil,” I said, admiring a picture of Clooney.
“I want to eat his face.” Cristina’s head was covered by her hoodie, but as I looked closer, I could see two small slits that revealed the whites of her eyes. She held up her hand and waved.
“I thought you were asleep,” I said, flipping a page.
“I’m not, but she is.” Cristina pointed to Anika, who sat in the chair on my other side.
“We all have our breaking point.”
Cristina lowered her hoodie and stared at me.
“I must be tired. Ignore the words.”
“Gladly.” And then she put the hoodie back over her head.
I huffed out a tired breath and scanned the floor of the cavernous bank where we were waiting on the vice president to arrive and open the room to the lockboxes for Anika. Besides the one man who greeted us with his pants pulled up to his chest, no one else was within fifty feet of us.
Perhaps we smelled, and we just didn’t know it.
We’d been at the emergency room all night. After waiting in line behind fifty other patients, the doctor finally saw Cristina. He ordered x-rays, which took another hour to process. The doc’s diagnosis? Bruised ribs. He had a nurse wrap Cristina’s torso and give her a couple of ibuprofen. As we walked out of the door and saw the lip of the morning sun just above the horizon, Cristina had tried to adjust the wrapping just before getting into Black Beauty, the pet name for my decade-old Civic. “This is worse than wearing a corset.”
The thought of Cristina wearing a corset had made me smile. I wanted to dish out a couple of sarcastic comments, but I knew it wasn’t the time.
I flipped to the next page in the magazine.
“Go back,” Cristina said in monotone.
“Clooney?”
“Yeah.”
I shook my head. “He’s at least forty years older than you.”
“It’s his chin. I like hunks with chiseled chins.”
“I’m sure you can find a hunk who’s closer to your age.”
“But it wouldn’t be Clooney. How about Tom Brady? He’s younger.” She paused. “ Only twenty years difference. And he’s got everything.” She sounded a little loopy.
“Including a wife who’s worth several hundred million dollars. Want to aim a little lower?”
“Riiiight,” she said.
I pulled the hoodie off her head. “Are you okay?”
“Ever since Anika gave me that pill.” She licked her lips, but her eyes remained shut.
I flipped around to see drool hanging off the edge of Anika’s lip.
“Her pills are magic,” Cristina said.
“How long ago did she give it to you?”
“When you went to the restroom.”
That was only ten minutes earlier, which meant that Cristina’s drunken state of mind might last a while. I considered taking her out to the car, telling Anika she could just meet us there. But I didn’t want to miss out on the unveiling of the contents of the lockbox.
A moment later, a stately woman in a gray, tweed suit marched in our direction. She disappeared every few feet behind ornate columns that were positioned like sentries across the black-and-white-checkered tile floor. I nudged Anika, who wiped her face as she stumbled to her feet.
The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 1-3: Redemption Thriller Series 7-9 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set) Page 29
