Entry Thirty-Six

“Jackpot,” I whispered, rubbing my hands together excitedly.

The safe wasn’t anything special. Just your regular, run-of-the-mill wall safe. Certainly not one that could keep a seasoned thief like me out.

In fact, getting it open was going to be pretty simple.

People don’t realize how easy it is to open most safes.

Of course, the ones in banks or museums or casinos are much more state-of-the-art. They have fail-safes upon fail-safes, multiple alarms, shutdown mechanisms—you name it, those kinds of places have them.

But home safes? Well, in thieves’ circles, they’re known as expensive cabinets. Might as well leave them wide open for as much as they do to keep people like me and my dad out.

Still, I appreciate the fact that rich people believe safes are enough to keep their valuables safe.

It makes my job easier.

Digging into another hidden pocket that Ollie had somehow managed to sew into my costume, I pulled out a small velvet drawstring bag. Inside was a wooden box about the size of a jewelry store bracelet container. I opened it up, pulled out a round, hockey-puck-sized magnet, and held it up in the light.

It was a rare-earth magnet, and it’s been part of my tool kit for more than five years now. It was actually one of the first pieces Dad gave me and has come in handy more often than you’d expect a magnet to.

Because a rare-earth magnet like the one I was holding can open pretty much anything. A hotel room. An apartment complex. An unmarked entrance leading into a military bunker.

And especially a safe.

I slipped the magnet into an old tube sock and took it over to the safe. Then, slowly placing it against the front surface, I moved it around until the magnet found the nickel piece inside the safe. Once I felt the connection, I simply dragged the magnet to the left and pulled down on the lever to open it.

“Easy peasy,” I said with a smile as I let the door swing wide.

And then I looked inside.

In all the articles I’d read about Miles and his secret treasure room, it had been rumored that he kept up to a million dollars in a secret safe somewhere on the property.

All these articles had been wrong.

Because I could see that there was way more than a million in there. It was probably more like three to four times that amount, actually.

And it was all there for the taking.

Grabbing one of the closest stacks, I fanned through it like a deck of cards, estimating that there were fifty bills in each stack. And each of the bills was marked with a great big green 100 on it.

“Holy—” I started to say as I worked out in my head just how much money I was looking at.

Then I promptly began to pull out stacks upon stacks of the money, until the floor at my feet was covered. I thought briefly about what it would be like to take the bundles apart and throw them into the air while watching the money fall down around me. But the point was to leave the place looking like I’d never been there.

No, I would have to make it rain later.

Instead, I lifted up the side of my dress, revealing a hole in the seam near the waist, and began shoving the stacks inside.

This was the actual genius of the outfit. Ollie had built this whole area underneath the skirt where I could hide just about anything. As soon as I dropped it into the hole in the seam, the item—in this case, a stack of five grand—would fall down into the sacklike structure built around the crinoline.

It was kind of incredible if you thought about it. The pouf of the raven’s tail made it impossible to see that I had anything hidden under there. Which meant I would be able to sneak out of the party completely undetected.

But just to be clear, I didn’t take it all.

I didn’t really need to, and the smarter thing would be to leave at least half of it so that it wouldn’t be immediately noticeable that the money had been stolen.

The most successful robberies are the ones that nobody ever finds out about. And that means no cops to come looking for you.

So when I was finished grabbing the amount I wanted, I pulled the cash that was in the back toward the front, pried the magnet from the safe, and closed it, hearing it lock back up on its own.

I could’ve left right then. And maybe I should’ve. I’d gotten more than what I’d gone there for and the rest of the stuff would’ve been impossible to resell on any market.

But something held me back.

Something inside me was screaming that there was more in there for me. Something that was worth more than anything I’d already found. Call it a hunch. Or maybe some weird intuition.

But I’d learned to trust my gut. And my gut was telling me not to leave just yet.

So I stopped in the middle of the room and took another look around.

At first, nothing jumped out at me. But as I took another sweep, I finally saw it.

There was a row of surveillance screens hanging on the far wall. I’d noticed them almost as soon as I’d entered the room but hadn’t given it a second thought since they weren’t recording me. I’d been focused mostly on finding Miles’s valuables. And it’s not unusual for a homeowner like Miles to have his own security cameras to watch what’s going on in his own home. Makes him feel like the master of his castle. Like he’s in control.

But cameras also have another purpose.

They allow the person watching to catch people in moments they intended to be private. Moments they don’t necessarily want other people to witness. And certainly don’t intend to have recorded.

Walking over to the wall of screens slowly, I looked at each one before finding the one I wanted.

Miles’s office.

The one situated right above me.

The control panel was built into the wall right below the screens, and I immediately began to fiddle with it, calling up Miles’s office and then rewinding as far as it would go.

I wasn’t totally sure what I was looking for, but I hurried through the recording anyway, stopping to play it back whenever I saw Miles in the room with someone or on the phone.

Most of it wasn’t helpful. Just a bunch of boring stuff about the real estate business or Miles talking about how important he thought he was.

But then I saw something that made my heart speed up and frantically pressed Play.

It was dated a few weeks ago. Without thinking about it, I pulled out my phone and started to record what I was seeing.

On the screen, Miles had just entered his office, followed by the sketchy lawyer I’d seen in court that day with Uncle Scotty. They were making small talk at first. Miles asked the lawyer how his flight on the private jet had been. The lawyer said it had been fine and added some sleaze-baggy comment about the hotness of the stewardess.

But then the conversation shifted.

On the video, Miles walked over to the bar near his desk and poured himself a few inches of a brown liquid before walking back to his couch and sitting down.

“So where are we on this lawsuit with the broad from the south side?” Miles asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“It’s not going to hold,” the lawyer said, standing in front of his boss. You could tell he’d rather have been sitting, but since Miles hadn’t offered him a seat, he was stuck on his feet. “There’s no evidence that Mrs. Martinez ever asked for anything to be fixed, and without that, they’ve got nothing.”

“And you’re sure they can’t track down those ‘missing requests’?” Miles asked, using air quotes.

“Mr. Miles, we hired the best people in the world to create that site for you,” the lawyer reassured him. “They’ve guaranteed us that requests will disappear as soon as they’re made. There is no way that Mrs. Martinez can prove her case without those requests.”

“Good,” Miles said, nodding thoughtfully. After a moment, he looked back up at the lawyer and gave him a nasty smile. “Still, I think it would be worth reaching out to Judge Meyer. Remind him that we’ve been quiet about that incident of his in Cabo so far, but we might just find ourselves having a crisis of conscience in the future if this doesn’t go our way.”

“Of course,” the lawyer said, nodding as he took out his phone and typed furiously on it for a few seconds.

“Tell me again why we can’t just make these people…disappear? Like the others?” Miles asked, waving his hand in the air languidly.

“That may have worked for them, but Mrs. Martinez isn’t illegal,” the lawyer explained, as if this wasn’t his first time telling Miles this.

“She’s not exactly American, though, either?” Miles said, snorting. He threw the rest of his drink back and stood up, walking over to the bar for another one.

“I promise we’ll make this go away in court,” the lawyer said, clearly not wanting to argue with a guy like Miles.

“You better,” Miles answered, not quite threatening him. It was more a matter-of-fact. “Just remember, I always get what I want.”

“Of course, sir,” the lawyer said. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As I watched the lawyer leave Miles alone in the room, I paused the video and stopped recording.

“That dirty, swindling mouth-breather,” I said angrily.

I turned around to survey the room again and narrowed my eyes as I had another idea. Flipping my phone back toward the walls of Miles’s secret treasure room, I pressed Record.

“You’re not getting what you want this time,” I muttered, and began to record everything I saw.

---

Five minutes later, I was headed back up the stairs after the floor automatically opened, and emerged from the hidden entrance beneath Miles’s desk. What little light had been shining behind me disappeared as the floor closed back up and Miles’s desk slipped back into place, leaving me once again in total darkness.

By now, though, I had a feel for the layout of his office and knew that all I needed to do was make my way around the desk and then it was a straight shot to the door.

Ready to get out of there, I quickened my pace until I could feel the presence of the door in front of me. I stopped for just a second to listen for anyone who might be on the other side, but all I could hear was the typical noise of the party in the distance.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed hold of the door handle and pulled it open.

“And where are you coming from?” a deep voice asked as soon as I’d taken a step out into the hallway.

My head jerked to the left as my gaze fell on another security guard. This one was different from the one I’d sent away earlier, but like the other, he was leaning up against the wall, his massive arms folded in front of him.

And he was not happy to see me.

Swallowing hard, I pulled the door to Miles’s office closed behind me and looked in the opposite direction for some way of escaping. I knew I wouldn’t be able to outrun the guard. Not in the dress and heels I was wearing. And not weighted down with as much cash as I currently had on me.

I’d have to come up with something else.

So, thinking quickly, I turned to the guard and placed my hands on my hips defiantly.

“Where is your boss?” I hissed. “Miles told me to join him here for a private…meeting. And well, as you can see, he never showed up! I have never been so insulted in my life.”

I let my voice grow into a growl as I walked toward the man, wagging my finger at him like he was the one I was angry at. His eyes widened as I stepped closer to him, and he dropped his arms to his side like he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation.

So I pushed even further, walking right up to him and poking him in the chest.

“You tell that jerk Miles that nobody keeps Lola Lafonta waiting,” I said threateningly. Then I spun around on my heel and began to strut off toward the rest of the party before throwing behind me, “Nobody!”

I added this last bit just as I was disappearing around the corner, and then I booked it toward the exit, hoping the security guy wasn’t following me.

Just as I reached the front door, I heard someone call out, “Wait!”

I almost froze where I stood, sure the security guard was after me, but when I turned my head, I saw Ollie just a few steps behind me. He already looked out of breath but motioned for me to keep going anyway.

Once we were outside, we began the long walk down the driveway to where we’d eventually call a cab and finally make our escape.

We’d barely gone a few feet before Ollie turned to me with a smile and said, “I just want to know one thing.”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” I said, patting the tail of my dress. “I got it all.”

Ollie smiled but shook his head. “That’s great, but it’s not what I was going to ask.”

I glanced at him, confused. “Then what?”

After a pause, he finally said, “What’s escargot?”

I immediately began to laugh, which made him frown.

“Hey, it was fried and it looked like calamari, so I took a bite,” he explained as we walked. “And it wasn’t so bad. So I had some more. But then I remembered all that other weird food and got worried….”

I laughed again, this time even louder.

“What? What did I eat, Frankie?” he pleaded, looking like he was going to be sick. “Just tell me.”

I put my arm around my friend as we walked through the darkness together.

“I think it’s better that you don’t know,” I said finally, then clapped him on his back before running off ahead of him, laughing, into the night.