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TWENTY
Blaze
Dess strodethrough the door after her mission looking both exhausted and fulfilled. I studied her as she flopped onto the sofa next to where I’d set myself up with my laptop and a plate of pasta I’d already polished off. She’d refused to tell us exactly what the mission was, handling this one completely on her own.
There were no obvious signs of combat on her clothes or skin. Her leggings and form-fitting top—which showed off some of my favorite assets—suggested work that required precise physical movements, but that covered a lot of areas. All I knew was that she looked content now that it was over.
“How was it?” I asked, setting my laptop on the coffee table in front of me and leaning back into the sofa.
Dess kicked off her shoes and grinned at me. “It couldn’t have gone better.”
Seeing her like that brought a warm sensation to my chest. Proud and content were two emotions that didn’t seem to come naturally to Dess, so I treasured every glimpse of them I got. She deserved to take pride and happiness in what she was capable of.
Seeing her stretch out on the cushions as if she owned the house—as if she belonged with us—only exemplified that warmth.
“Has your search brought up anything?” she asked me, and I jerked my mind back to my own mission.
“I did a deep dive into all the Malik family holdings,” I said. “Properties, vehicles, bonds, bank accounts. Everything they own, everything we could delve farther into. Unfortunately, they either don’t have much outside of the house we know about and its insured contents, or they’re very good at keeping whatever else they own off all the records I can access.”
A little of her shine faded. “So there’s nothing?”
I wagged a finger at her. “Have a little faith. I said there isn’t much. I did discover that there’s a safety deposit box at a separate bank from where they handle most of their finances in your grandmother’s—Damien’s mother’s—name.”
“Grandma Ruby,” Dess said, sitting up straighter. She used the name with a familiarity that sent a weird twinge through me. She was suspicious of these people and she knew they’d never accept her, but she’d become a part of their collective all the same. “What do you think is in it?”
I shook my head. “There’s no way to know. But the fact that it’s at a separate bank suggests that it might be something more secret than your typical safety deposit contents. It’s the best lead I turned up.”
“And you’re the best at turning up leads,” Dess said, with a softly sly smile that heated me up in very different ways. She rubbed her mouth, her expression turning pensive. “Getting into a bank would be pretty difficult, but I think the guy who owes me can handle it. Garrison said he’s an expert robber and safe cracker, known for getting at just about anything you could need that’s locked away… I wanted to keep my options open since I didn’t know what you’d find.”
She picked up her phone and dialed the guy up. The conversation didn’t last long—maybe two minutes of exchanging information and setting a time to do it—before she ended the call and gave me a mischievous look.
“Good news,” she said. “We can go tonight. He said a tech expert would be an asset, so it’ll be you, me, and Echo. I hope you’re ready.”
* * *
While Dess and I showed up a half-hour early in the still of the night, the man who called himself Echo was already waiting at the meeting spot down the street from the bank building, smoking a cigarette where he stood in the shadows between the beams of two streetlamps.
“Isn’t the first rule of robbery not to leave DNA behind?” I murmured to Dess. I hoped Garrison had done his due diligence on this guy.
She shrugged. “Not our DNA, not our problem. Anyway, what are the chances the police would make anything of ash on the sidewalk a block away from the place. If this goes well, no one will even know the bank was broken into.”
I had to admit she had a point.
The guy was certainly a character. He stood taller than both of us, but his height seemed to be all he had going for him. His arms and legs were skinny enough that I wondered if he’d been through a food shortage—and whether he couldn’t have stolen himself some meals if he needed them so badly. His tortoiseshell framed glasses looked like they were meant to be a fashion statement, but they slid down his nose as he lifted his head to look at us. Even his clothes hung loosely on him.
Should I buy this guy a cheeseburger when we finished here?
Dess nodded to him. “Echo.”
He grinned awkwardly down at her, showing a mouth of nicotine-stained teeth, and tossed his cigarette butt into the gutter. “You’re early.”
“So are you. Are we ready to go?”
He clucked his tongue. “I need to explain first.”
Dess held up her hands. “Of course. We’re ready to listen.”
“Good.” He gave a little twitch of his shoulders that made me wonder if he had a few screws loose in some literal sense as well as being half-starved. “Security guard, cameras, silent burglar alarms at every door, window, and room entrance, control panels at the vault and each secure door. That is this bank’s security. We can’t get into the vault without setting off an alarm, so no money. You can’t steal money from this bank. You can’t.”
