She carefully laid her Great-Uncle Admon’s painting in the back of their bail-van. The vehicle Tom had strategically placed a few blocks over in case they were discovered during their six month con, and needed to make a quick exit. She hadn’t expected to use it for this purpose, but there’d never been a score like this before.
The frame fit perfectly between two statues made of amber, now wrapped in towels. The van was nearly full by now, and Portia Conway’s secret vault empty.
Tom carried out an amber carving through the back door, a cloth draped around it to keep it protected. Sweat dripped off his forehead from the heat. Adrenaline too, no doubt.
Cora had the same problem with her palms.
Large trees canopied the whole back area, providing additional shade during the heat of the day, and thankfully shadows at night concealed them. At least from having their faces identified from onlookers.
Neither of them had to worry about cameras. Tom had disabled them, along with the security system.
Onlookers could always be a problem, even at this time of night no matter how unlikely.
The worst thing would be Conway coming home early.
“Is that everything?” Tom muttered.
“Yep.” She checked her watch. “I’ll go close up. Shut down your systems.”
He retreated to the utility area to grab his computer, and Cora ascended the steps to the back door.
“Freeze!” A harsh voice shouted from the end of the alley. “Police!”
Cora’s heart stopped, and she peered around the edge of the brick. Red and blue flashing lights bounced off the homes, a few hundred yards down.
Tom stood frozen out in the open. He didn’t move. Didn’t duck. Just stood there, clutching his laptop.
How the hell did they discover us?
Everything moved slowly in her mind, putting one step in front of the other to reach Tom, and figuring out the next step.
The escape plan.
Everything had to change now.
The closer the police officer’s flashlight drew, the more a clean getaway wasn’t possible. The cops knew they’d been there, otherwise they wouldn’t have shown up with lights flashing.
They’d already seen a figure in the alley, and wouldn’t give up until they found someone.
Anyone.
Cora yanked Tom into the bushes by the back of his shirt.
His skin was cold, and his eyes glazed.
The only way to get these treasures to safety was to give the cops someone to chase. Because the score was the most important part.
The score, and Tom.
There was no other way.
She shoved the keys in his hand. “Stay hidden. I’ll draw them off. When they’re clear, drive away.”
“Wh-what about you?”
“Just drive!”
Cora shoved him down into the dirt, to keep him hidden, and bit her tongue. Then she jumped up.
The police officer was only a hundred yards off.
She waited until the flashlight landed on her face, to give the man something to follow. Then she ran perpendicular from him, between two buildings.
Away from the van. Away from Tom.
Her footsteps were uneven as she darted between bushes and dodged trash cans. Her heartbeat was as loud as her feet echoing off the pavement.
From the sounds of the cop’s steps, he was still on her tail, drawing closer.
She turned the corner and sprinted to the park on the other end. This chase had to last at least a few more minutes, enough time for Tom to drive off. With the score.
“Freeze!” the cop yelled again. The radio on the man’s shoulder crackled and called in their location, keeping dispatch aware for backup.
If Cora wasn’t so focused on getting away, she would’ve rolled her eyes. Because there was always backup. None of her contracts had ever come this close to capture. Yet there was a first time for everything. Between her and Tom getting caught, there was no choice in her mind.
His steps drew closer from the radio crackle getting louder.
She hurdled over a row of bushes into the park, and darted across the grass. If Tom was far enough away by now, she might be able to lose the Blue. Then backtrack to Tom’s house, and get the hell out of Dodge.
With Forrest Gump’s determination behind her, that may not be an option.
Her breathing quickened more with every stride as she crossed the park and dashed into a multi-level garage. Between cars and concrete pillars, her feet grew heavier as she neared the other side, to a door leading exiting on a one-way street. Completely barren; no cars to duck behind.
The radio crackled again, much closer than she liked.
Cora bolted down the street, whizzing by retail stores and empty parking lots. The farther into town she went, the taller the buildings climbed.
Away from Tom, away from the bail-van, and away from blowing her cover.
With all her connections—her father’s connections—a burglary charge this large would be difficult to throw out. Especially after she’d used all her favors to get Vaughn freed.
Freed from her crimes.
Vaughn.
After tonight, she might never see him again. Her heaving heart pinched further. Either on the run for good or jailed, she’d put their relationship in an impossible situation.
What did you expect?
She turned a corner, and recognized the street.
Vaughn’s apartment complex.
Cora stopped. Her feet ached, and her lungs burned. Without realizing it, she’d run to Vaughn’s apartment.
Why?
It wasn’t like he could help her.
“Stop! Police!” The cop rasped behind her. “Hands up!”
A silver truck turned onto the street at the other end, and stopped in front of the complex. The driver’s door opened, and Vaughn stepped out. As he stared at her from fifty yards away, his jaw dropped.
Damn, a tux never looked so magnificent on a man.
“I said hands up!”
Cora slowly raised her arms, pretty sure a gun was aimed at her back.
“Get on your knees,” the officer ordered.
She complied, her gaze never leaving Vaughn’s beautiful face.
He stepped forward. “Wait! Officer—”
“Sir, stay where you are!”