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My phone vibrated, and I opened the text from Quinn.
The target will be on his office computer. A file labeled “Countertop colors.” Folder will have a password. Need whole folder copied and pasted on USB.Countertop colors, huh? I highly doubted Quinn was interested in looking at what kind of decor choices the mayor of Boston wanted. I'd done enough of these jobs to know two things: secrets were never labeled as such and questions never helped.
I knew better than to ask.
Quinn was paying me for a job, not my opinion on whatever he wanted me to steal.
My phone vibrated again.I'm already tapped into the security system. I'll turn off the cameras when you're ready. You'll have about six minutes before Jessie gets a notification that the cameras are down. Office is the third door on the right.
This is often how it went with Quinn. He would know the entire schematics of a target's house, with a plan already laid out. He was a good hacker, one of the best I'd worked with, but he preferred staying behind the scenes. If he could hack into the cameras, then he'd surely tried to hack into the computer—but if he'd hired me, then it meant he was unsuccessful in that.
Which wasn't surprising. Unlike cameras, most computers had firewalls that could only be bypassed in person.
Ready.
Quinn and I had done this enough that I knew what his next text would be. It had been six months since my last job with him, but it didn't matter how much time had passed. It was always these seconds before he gave me the signal to start that stirred the most nerves. Sweat popped on my brow, and my pulse pounded in my ears.
His next text made my heart skip.Go time.
Sliding my phone into my purse, I eased open the pantry door but didn't immediately step out. I counted six cameras, and on every single one of them, the red light had gone black.
The flooring of the second floor hallway was an elaborate marble—not the best for trying to cover the sound of my footsteps in heels. I could go barefoot but at the risk of any bodyguards roaming the halls, that would backfire against any excuse of being lost.
That had happened on a job once before, and I had had to pretend that I was wasted in order to to make the guard believe me.
Fortunately, the door to his office was right up the hall, so I didn't have to walk far. I'd make this quick. In and out—and I'd be back to the party in no time.
I held my breath, listening for any indication that someone was approaching. When I was sure the hall was empty, I slipped out the door and moved quickly toward Jessie's office. I yanked the handle—and found it locked.
Fuck.
Quinn hadn't warned me of that. Fortunately, I'd been in worse situations and was prepared for these kinds of things. I pulled the two safety pins out of my purse, slid them into the lock of the door, and twisted back and forth.
It had been a while since I'd had to break a lock, and it took me about thirty seconds longer than usual. Thirty seconds wasn't long in the scheme of things, but with a deadline of six minutes, I should have already been in the room, working on breaking the password to his computer.
My heart jumped into my throat. Were those voices down the hall?
Fuck.
The lock clicked—I heard it and felt it with the turn of my fingers—and I threw open the door, sliding inside the office before I could confirm if I'd heard someone coming.
I eased the main door to the office closed behind me and locked it just in case anyone checked.
Jessie's office was more like a library than a study. Bookshelves lined every wall, and a fire was sizzling in the hearth. Black curtains were half pulled in front of a sliding glass door that overlooked a balcony. Steam swirled out of a cup of tea on the corner of the desk.
"Oh, shit."
This was all wrong. I bolted forward, curving around the desk, and my fear was confirmed. Quinn had reiterated more than once that there would be a password to hack before getting into the laptop. But it wasn't just open on the desktop—the camera was open on the security cam footage around the house.
Six of the squares—the cameras in the hallway outside—were black.
The pieces began to click. The fire. The tea. The voices.
Someone had just been in here, and they were most definitely on their way back.
I could run, say fuck it to the whole mission...and then what? Lose Claire's scholarship? My apartment? Become homeless and have her taken away from me?
No way in hell. I needed to try.
