Sixteen

Everything went smoothly at the celebration of life until Anil tried to saw Chloe in half.

We had great weather, and a good turnout of guests ranging from dubious to dramatic. My catering team outdid themselves, and the string quartet kept the vibe chill between circus performances. Emma made for a terrifying clown—more Pennywise than Bozo. Vito ate a range of flaming swords, set fire to his fingers, and lit cigarettes and vapes for all who asked. Clare did some mind-blowing acrobatics and walked a tightrope that she’d strung five feet off the ground. Milan threw knives at a delighted Simone against a plywood backdrop, making the crowd gasp with horrified pleasure.

Chloe, as Anil’s assistant, had wandered around the party with him as he pulled coins from behind ears and doves from his sleeves, surreptitiously checking cameras and security until it was time for the big performance. An hour into the party, Chloe had found a way to loop the cameras and block the motion detectors, but Anil still hadn’t solved the problem of the biometric panels. Vito was on standby to blast the tunnel door if everything went sideways, and Milan had proved to be a very good “distraction” in her red leather outfit and thigh-high boots.

“You’re supposed to be downstairs in case Peter takes anyone into the museum,” I whispered to Gage when he suddenly appeared by my side for the “sawing Chloe in half” performance.

“You think I’m going to be anywhere except here when crazy Anil takes a saw to my girl?” he grumbled. “If she gets even one bruise, one cut, if she even loses a hair…”

“She’ll be fine. He practiced it with his mom at home.”

“Where is his mom? I haven’t seen her,” he grumbled. “She’s probably buried in a shallow grave in the backyard.”

“For some strange reason, she wasn’t invited to a stranger’s nephew’s celebration of life,” I retorted. “And Anil isn’t the crazy one here. Get back downstairs. What if this is the time Peter decides to take his friends and family to see his collection of ancient dildos? What if someone else steals the diamond? I don’t think my business insurance would cover something like that.”

“Now who’s the crazy one?” Gage muttered.

“You’re here to do a job. I’ll watch out for Chloe.”

“With all due respect,” he said. “And this is with full acknowledgment that you and Chloe have been best friends since you were kids, I’m not going anywhere. Jack can deal with the downstairs security. Where the fuck is he, anyway?”

“You know Jack. He’s all over the place. He was following Peter around for a bit. So far, the dude hasn’t invited a single person down to his chamber of erotic horrors. I think after Chloe is sawed in half, we’ll have to put plan C into action.”

Gage’s faced tightened. “The plan where she goes down to a billionaire’s sex dungeon alone? The plan I did not approve?”

“Yes, Gage. That plan, except she won’t be alone. As soon as Chloe lets me know Peter is taking her down to the museum, I’ll get Simone to intercept and join them. She can talk her way into anything. You should be happy. Plan C presumes she’ll survive being sawed in half.”

Gage growled his frustration. “If I don’t die of a heart attack after today, it will be a miracle.”

“You need to give her some space. She spent years dealing with Kyle’s controlling behavior. The last thing she needs is more of the same.”

“I lost people…” Gage stared out into the garden, where Anil was making a big production of getting Chloe into the box. “People I should have been able to save. I couldn’t protect them. I can’t let it happen again, especially not when it comes to someone I…” He trailed off, his eyes widening in horror. “For fuck’s sake. Is that a real fucking saw?”

“Anil said he needed a real saw to make sawdust so the illusion would be realistic.” I put a warning hand on his arm. “Don’t ruin his trick. He knows what he’s doing.”

Gage shuddered, his big, hard body trembling as Anil sawed through the box. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back, but suddenly Olivia, dressed in a black server’s uniform, was in front of him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a big hug.

“She’ll be okay. I saw the trick on TikTok. There’s no risk. None at all.”

“What the hell?” He glared at Olivia. “What are you doing here, Liv? Your mother specifically forbade you from being involved.”

“But isn’t it a good thing?” she said. “You almost lost it, and I was here to save you.”

“Your mom is going to be seriously pissed when she sees you.” His face was stern, but his hand, as he ruffled her hair, was gentle. “This isn’t a game, kid.”

“I know, but I can’t just sit home and do nothing when you’re at risk of being whacked by the mob.”

A reassembled Chloe stepped out of the box a few moments later to the applause and cheers of the crowd. Only seconds after her final bow, she spotted Olivia and rushed over to join us. Poor Olivia got an earful, although Chloe’s tirade was delivered in a hushed whisper and behind a bush.

“You take that uniform off and go home this instant,” she hissed, pulling Olivia to the side. “And don’t think Gage will save you. If he wants any chance of being in our lives, he’ll take you home himself.”

“Chloe.” I tugged on her arm with some urgency. “I know this is important, but we’re running out of time and we need to move to plan C. Emma finished her clown gig and is waiting outside. I’ll take Olivia to the car and Emma can look after her until we’re done.”

“But I know things,” Olivia protested. “I’ve been here all afternoon listening to conversations, sneaking around, and taking pictures.”

“Car.” Chloe pulled out her ponytail and fluffed her hair. “I won’t have you witness me destroying a hundred years of feminist progress.”

“It’s okay for feminists to flirt,” Olivia said. “Seduction is also fine. Why shouldn’t women be in charge of their own sexuality? The patriarchy wants to keep us weak and repressed. They want men to feel like hunters and women to feel like prey. If you want a man, go after him. Don’t wait for him to make a move.”

“Um…thank you for that fifteen-going-on-fifty.” Shaking her head in exasperation, Chloe went to collect the replica diamond from Anil on her way to seduce Peter. While I waited for her to let me know she’d successfully convinced Peter to take her down to the museum, I walked Olivia out to the car, where Emma was waiting.

“The guests were thrilled at the idea that I would put them on social media,” Olivia said. “It’s like a novelty for their generation. I have a gazillion pictures. They also don’t think I’m fully human because you wouldn’t believe the tea they spilled in front of me. I know all the secrets. Affairs. Conspiracies. Secret babies. Bankruptcies. Corporate takeovers. I’m the world’s greatest spy.”

“You’re going to be the world’s most grounded teenager when your mother gets home,” I warned her. “What were you thinking?”

“I could start a gossip channel and hit one million followers in a week with what I know,” she continued. She was clearly desperate to tell me something, so I decided to indulge her.

“Okay. Give me your top three, although I don’t know most of these people.”

“Ron Fitzgerald is sleeping with Cari Winnow.”

“Okay…means nothing to me.”

“He’s the son of a tech billionaire and is engaged to the daughter of a world-famous soccer player. She’s a princess from—”

“Yawn. Moving on.”

“A woman named Martha was having an affair with someone’s husband, but then she ate a peanut and died. She was deathly allergic to peanuts. It was ruled accidental, but some people think it might have been murder because they found her locked in the pantry without her phone or EpiPen.”

Now, that was interesting. I made a mental note to ask Simone more about the friend who had inspired the whole “circus celebration of life” theme.

“Anything else?”

“Vera’s husband is having an affair with his private secretary. Apparently, they were seen together in the Hamptons, and—”

“No more,” I said. “It makes me think there is no such thing as love.” We reached the car, and I explained the situation to Emma. “Don’t let her out of your sight,” I told her. “She’s a slippery character.”

Chloe messaged to say she had the replica, but she couldn’t find Peter and she was going to do another search of the house. I returned to the party and made my rounds, checking on the food and music, making sure glasses were filled and my people were where they were supposed to be. By the time I was done, about forty-five minutes had passed since Chloe had checked in and she still hadn’t messaged an update. I was about to go looking for Simone to see if she would have more luck with Peter when Vera came barreling around the corner, her face sheet white.

“Simi! You have to come. It’s Peter.”

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

“No, he’s not okay.” Her fingers dug into my arm. “There’s so much blood…I think he’s dead. I don’t know…I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is he, Vera?”

“In the garage.”

I sent a quick message to Gage and Jack as I raced behind Vera through the garden.

“I hadn’t seen him for ages, so I went looking for him,” Vera said. “It’s not like him. Peter loves being the center of attention.” Her words tumbled over one another as we made our way across the garden.

“I thought maybe he was showing people his new Bugatti…” She trailed off when we reached the side door to the garage and stopped so suddenly I almost ran into her. “I can’t go in there again. I’m feeling faint. I need to go inside and lie down.”

“Of course. When I see Simone, I’ll ask her to sit with you. I don’t want you to be alone.”

I pushed open the door and walked into a garage the size of a small house, with five luxury vehicles gleaming on a highly polished floor beneath a grid of hexagonal LED lights. Sleek gray cabinets with track lighting above a marble counter took up one wall while pictures of race cars adorned the rest. A white-and-black Bugatti was parked nearest the entrance with the door hanging open. But even before I saw Peter slumped over the steering wheel in the front seat, I knew from the spray of blood inside the front windshield and the pool of blood on the shiny gray floor that he was dead.

Bile rose in my throat and my knees weakened. I’d seen an almost-dead body during our last heist, but not a really dead one. I staggered forward, but Jack was suddenly behind me and yanked me back.

“It’s a crime scene. You don’t want to contaminate it. We need to call the police.”

“I can’t believe this,” I stammered. “Vera went looking for him and…” My stomach heaved as the acrid scent of blood filled my nostrils.

“Look at his hand,” Gage said. “He’s missing his index finger.”

Jack’s body stiffened behind me. “Someone else must have been after the diamond.”

“They might still be here.” Gage pulled out his weapon and motioned us back. Keeping to the wall, he circled behind the car. That’s when I heard a sound I never want to hear again—a gut-wrenching cross between horror and pained anguish.

“Gage?” Heedless of his warning about contaminating the crime scene, I ran over to the car, where he’d disappeared from view. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Chloe.” His voice cracked, broke, as he looked up from the floor, where he was kneeling with Chloe’s head in his lap. “They got her, too.”