A shape, big and hulking, wandered into Ben’s peripheral vision and stopped in the street. His head whipped around, and the shape split and sharpened through the blur of sweat in his eyes. A man and a woman. The guy was digging around in his pocket, the lady was looking down at the ground. Ben had a linen bag in one hand and a velvet display case full of engagement rings in the other.
“What the fuck?” Ben hissed.
Like clockwork, Jakey in the earpiece. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“What in the name of shit would make you think this is okay?” Matt had appeared from the back room, was beside Ben and assessing the threat. Engo was across the U-shaped display cases, clutching a handful of men’s watches. “Who the fuck is that?”
“Dog walkers,” Ben said. He watched the man in the moonlight, a pear-shaped, tall guy. The guy pulled a poop bag from his pocket like a black magician’s handkerchief and flicked it open. Ben couldn’t see the dog behind a parked car. Even as he was saying the words, he didn’t believe them. Not for a second. “It’s okay. It’s just dog walkers.”
“I saw them come in,” Jake said. “I was waiting to tell you until I had a better—”
“Abort,” Matt said. He took the case from Ben’s hand and dumped it on the counter. “Now.”
Ben did as he was told, headed for the back room. It was Engo who slammed a hand on the rear door before they could get through it.
“Wait, wait, wait.” His voice was muffled by the balaclava. “We’re flipping out over nothing. We’re right here. We’re right here! Let’s just finish this!”
“You see a fucking dog walker in this street at any point in the last four months?” Matt was a huge black cloud choking the air out of the room. “No. You didn’t. I know you didn’t because I read all your notes. We know every motherfucker who comes in and out of this street, all night and all day.”
“It’s two A.M.,” Ben agreed. “Who’s walking their dog at this time of the morning?”
“Night-shift workers.”
“Fuck that. We’re out.”
“Jakey”—Engo touched his earpiece—“you see anybody else out there?”
“There could be a street parade for all I care, I said abort!” Matt seethed. He was saying it, but his feet were planted, and Ben could see why. The boss had cracked the safe while he and Engo raided the front of the store. Not even “cracked it.” Just “opened it.” They knew the code from the bug Ben had planted, which had coopted the building’s CCTV system and fed it to the crew. A year’s worth of footage, including that belonging to the camera overseeing the safe as the manager opened and closed it every day.
The safe door was hanging open. Six rows of black velvet boxes, six rows of paperwork, a single chrome-plated revolver.
“There’s nobody else out here,” Jake said. “There’s just the couple. They’re walking on. Slowly.”
Ben, Engo, and Matt all watched each other, sucking and huffing the same dry, empty air, the safe yawning open, full of uncut stones. Ben felt the need of the men again, the same way he had under the floorboards that night. Matt’s child support. Jakey’s gambling problem. Whatever the hell Engo spent his money on. He didn’t trust them, not then, not any time lately. And this was the worst moment to let their needs decide their next move.
“We’re good,” Matt said. “Let’s load up and move out.”