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“Can’t help it. It’s rightthere.”
“Ah, here we are,” she says, her attention immediately drawn to the images that come up on screen. “I think we have a problem…” she says.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to impersonate Amelia Stern.”
“Why not?’
Raquel turns the laptop towards me. “Because unless I’m a four-foot five woman with bright red hair in her late sixties, I don’t think the guards are going to buy that I’m her.”
I examine the collection of images on screen. Raquel’s right. We’re going to have to rethink this. It’s imperative we get inside Van Straus’ castle, but we need an entirely different cover story if we’re going to make this work.
“I have an idea,” she says after a few moments.
“Care to share?”
“We need to go shopping.”
I squint at her suspiciously. “And why is that?”
“Because the key to any successful con is looking the part, and we’re going to need to look extra sharp to pull this off.” Raquel bumps her shoulder against mine. “Don’t you trust me?”
I take a deep breath in through the nose.DoI trust her?
Yes. Yes, I do.
But she shouldn’t trust me.
“I guess we’re going shopping,” I say.
Chapter 21
Raquel
The roads leading up to Van Straus’ winter home are serpentine, narrow, and dangerous. The terrain makes it difficult to make pinpoint turns, and the closer you get to the edge of the property, the thicker the forest becomes. It’s snowing today, grey clouds overhead blocking whatever sunlight the local meteorologist mistakenly promised. As far as Mondays go, this one’s a bleak one.
We use the lack of visibility to our advantage.
The black SUV comes to a screeching halt, skidding across the icy road for a couple of feet. The driver behind the wheel honks their horn, but we don’t budge, forcing him to get out of the car and approach.
I flag him down, distracting him with a sweet smile and an overall ditzy air. “Oh my God,hi! Thank goodness, I thought for sure I’d freeze to death out here.”
The man doesn’t speak a lick of English, but he gets his point across perfectly clear. He gestures at the vehicle I’ve deliberately parked perpendicular to the road, blocking off any hopes of getting around. He yells, he points, he spits, the vein at his temple bulging as his face turns red. I get the sense he’s in a hurry, but that’s none of my concern. My only job right now is to keep his attention on me.
I keep smiling, pretending I’m hopelessly stranded. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gabriel hard at work, his big frame hopping out of the underbrush to swiftly open the car door. He pulls the little old lady out of the back, smacking a rag soaked in chloroform over her mouth and nose. Her scream dies on her tongue as she inhales, knocking her out almost instantaneously.
Once he’s sure Amelia Stern is down, he sneaks up behind the driver. Gabriel whips his arm around the man’s throat, trapping him in the crook of his elbow. He squeezes so tight I’m partially worried the driver’s head will pop off like cork. Instead, the man’s eyes roll back, his face redder than a tomato as the air to his brain is cut off. The driver’s limp body slumps to the floor.
“Not bad,” I say.
“Not bad?” Gabriel echoes. “That was the cleanest it was going to get.”
“Let’s hurry, before someone sees us.”
We’ve got duct tape and rope already prepped. I’ll admit I’m way out of my depth here. I’ve never had to kidnap a person for a heist before, and I sincerely hope this will be the last. I don’t like hurting or frightening people, even if we’re only tying them up and leaving them in the backseat of our car. I’ve gone out of my way to wrap warm blankets around them so they won’t freeze.
Once they’re tucked away and Gabriel’s moved our car off the road to hide it behind a thicket, he returns with the driver’s ID and Amelia Stern’s iPad.
