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I toy with the tracker bracelet. “Your housekeeper is here today, right?”
“Yeah?”
I take off the bracelet, and then I half take off my top, aware I’m flashing him because I’m not wearing underwear. No way am I wearing dirty panties, and I didn’t have a bra beneath last night’s dress. But it’s nothing he hasn’t seen. I take off the arm band and put that down.
“MG? What are you doing?” he asks in a dangerous voice. He’s in close again, and through the coffee in the air, I breathe in the magic Jac scent. The honeyed leather and lavender of him, the forbidden layers that make my toes curl.
His lips press together.
I bite back a snarky comment about personal space. “I need to go and do some things and would rather not be tracked. Can she take these with her while she cleans and works? You can pay her extra.”
“Bad idea, MG. You’re trying to fuck with enemies unknown.” He pauses. “And your fucking boyfriend Hendrick would say the same. It’s not smart.”
“Actually, it is. If they’re looking, it’ll seem like I’m moving around in here.”
“And if they’re watching?” His green eyes glitter. “They took you once. They can do it again. All it takes is a second.”
“Then you’re not doing your job.”
“I’m telling you to stay here.”
“I’m very good at what I do, and one of those things is not being seen. I either leave the trackers here or I dump them—”
“Blackmail?”
I set about making another cup of coffee. “Yes.”
His phone buzzes, and he glances at it with a sigh. “I need to go. Fine, I’ll text her. Just… Don’t get into any trouble. If that’s fucking possible.”
Jac’s words try and haunt me as I poke about, make different plans with escape routes from Delacroix City in my head.
I also go shopping. I don’t have cash, but it’s not hard to get some. A little light finger work around town gets that job taken care of. And it’s good to stretch my pickpocket skills, hone them.
To be honest, there’s a little drunkenness in my bones that comes from being tracker free, but to get into Lacey, I’m thinking I’m going to need a few very specialist tools. Because I’m betting they upped their security after my last break in.
We went through the front last time, and after a few hours of watching and waiting for the after-hour work to finish, some photoshoot of a happy couple that look loaded, I make my way around to the back of the store.
The back will be easier to get into. It’s sequestered by a closed alley, and a fence. I drop silently to the other side and set about knocking out the cameras. Then I get to work on the alarm.
It’s a double layered one so it takes me about ten minutes to get it down and then another five minutes picking the six locks.
Silence hangs low over the darkened interior, and there’s a sense of something in the air, like waiting.
Ghosts of those who just left. Places always have an energy when people leave a room or building. I’m about to head to the computers and the filing cabinets when I notice a door.
We never came all the way back here last time, but while it looks like a basement or closet door, it’s got heavy duty locks on it. There’s an alarm but it’s not set, and there only one of the locks is secured.
I pick that and carefully ease open the door, making my way down the wooden steps. Basement. This part is empty with a big door on the opposite side. I’m aware I can see.
Someone’s left a light on. It’s not bright, but I pause on the second last step and listen.
My skin pricks all over, my muscles tense, and I move into the room and around the corner.
“Hendrick.”
His dark head’s bent over some photos. There’s a big table in the middle of this part, with a computer, and there are gray filing cabinets that line the walls.
My knees turn liquid and need surges inside me. Along with the anger.
