“I just figured.” Luke shrugged with a curt once-over of Andrew’s slender form. “Younger than I thought. Fake dating part must make it fun.”
Isaachadtold him that. It was bound to come up otherwise.
Luke grunted at Andrew’s impressive blushing routine and reached for the other drink on the coffee table, which was definitely not meant for him.
“That’s—” Andrew tried, but he was too late before Luke took a sip.
“Gentlemen,” Isaac said, as amusing as Andrew’s pout might be, “we have a lot to discuss before show time. Shall we?”
Between the various schematics, notes, and everything else Vallancourt had provided via Dalton, Isaac had never been so prepared for anot-heist in so short a time in his entire life, but that didn’t mean he was going to play this sloppy. The point of the venture wasn’t only to gauge how poor Avalon’s security was or how the original thief might have gotten in, but to document where there could be improvements, especially where it pertained to their trap.
The security guards had no idea about the planned break-in, only Vallancourt and Dalton, so it would be like any other night, meaning they could trip an alarm or get the cops called if something went wrong. Isaac wanted to avoid that, even if Vallancourt would have their backs should they get caught.
Once they had the basic plan down, there was time to kill before they needed to head out. Luke went off to gear up and do his own thing for a while, but Andrew glanced around like a middle school kid at his first dance.
“I, uhh… might run to the gas station or something for a bite to eat—”
“Already covered. Dalton tends to overcook. There are leftovers in the fridge. Help yourself.” Isaac pointed across the way to the kitchen.
“Oh.” Andrew stopped his backward momentum with a pleased smile. “Thanks.”
Isaac followed him, partially because he too was due for a bite, but also because he knew Andrew was keeping a keen eye on his surroundings and the path to the kitchen would lead him right past—
“Oh my God.” Andrew came to a skidding halt when he saw the glass case around the corner. “Is this what Dalton mentioned? That isn’t a comic. It’sThe Shadow Annualfrom 1942!”
Despite the otherwise mundaneness of the building, a place of honor had been set aside for Isaac’s pristine copy of the old pulp magazine.
“No wonder you keep it under glass.” Andrew approached the case with the proper gait and reverence. “In this kind of condition, it’d be worth… I can’t even imagine what this is worth. You must have paid—” he cut off as soon as he glanced at Isaac. “You stole it, didn’t you?”
“Now, Andrew, before you assume I took that off some poor devoted geek-boy who’d had it passed down for generations from his grandfather, it was at an estate auction.”
“You actually bought it?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny…” he trailed off with a grin.
Andrew laughed, awkward middle school dance nerves assuaged. “The class I tutored Dalton in? I did my final project onThe Shadow.”
“For Art History?”
“Why not? My dad used to play me recordings of the radio show when I didn’t want a normal bedtime story. Steve wasn’t as big of a fan.”
“Aren’t gruesome murder mysteries a tad much for a young boy?”
“Mom wasn’t too happy when she found out, but I loved it, even when I had nightmares.” With another chuckle and longing look at the enshrined magazine, Andrew continued into the kitchen.
He proceeded to extract every container of leftovers from the fridge, before looking them over guiltily as if asking permission. Isaac snatched the one he wanted for himself, and then spread his hand over the others to indicate Andrew could knock himself out.
“I always tried to figure out the mysteries before the Shadow did,” Andrew said, beginning to stir the contents he’d chosen for his meal and getting the containers into the microwave. “I loved all the fantastical elements, his powers that were mostly really subtle, so he also had to be a good detective. I was more inspired to join the force because of him than Steve or Dad.”
“Must have been hard giving it up,” Isaac said.
Andrew gave him a measuring look, like he expected him to be teasing, but Isaac kept his expression neutral to prove he wasn’t.
“I really didn’t choose security to spite you.”
Andrew laughed again. “I know. Maybe sometimes the real reason I get so pissed at you is because you’re so good at something that I wanted for myself. Security can have its own mystery to it, like what we’re working on now. I mean, I never do things likethis—planning a fake break-in—but it is exciting. Feels a little like an old noir story.”
“Complete withhommefatale?” Isaac tilted closer.
