Sins & Needles (The Artists Trilogy #1)

After taking one more pill and a few deep breaths, I left Jose as casually as possible. The last thing you wanted was to be sneaking around and have someone see you sneaking around. I acted unpremeditated, like I lived around here, but still closed the door quietly. I walked easily across the street and crossed the vacant lot full of sand, rock, and dried out brush. Just…taking a stroll. Nothing to see here.

Once I reached Camden’s street, I walked with the same purpose. I was just a friend, just a friend paying him a visit and oh look, he wasn’t home. Sounded simple when you said it like that but one house away and I was starting to get really nervous. Puking my guts out kind of nervous. Second-guessing everything kind of nervous.

I couldn’t lose it. I passed by the quaint white bungalow that was his neighbor (thankfully not the ones who we had a close call with the night before) and suddenly there I was. Even though he had kept a light on in the garage and in the kitchen window, his jeep was gone. I had more than enough time now, I had to remember that.

I did a quick, casual sweep of my surroundings before making my way to his front door. As I thought, it stayed dark and he didn’t have any motion sensors. Still, I kept my head down low, just in case there was a camera mounted somewhere. It was extremely unlikely but it was better to be paranoid than dead.

When I saw the road was deserted and I grinned at the hedge of desert roses that kept me hidden from the occasional car going down the main street, I got to work on his lock. All deadbolts were five-pin tumblers and his was a Kwikset, which was as generic as you could get. Normally, lock-picking took a lot of time and patience, but when you grew up with a family of con artists, you were given locks to practice on more than you were given a Barbie or Lego.

I selected my trusty Allen wrench from the key ring, and as casually as someone just putting their house key into their house lock, inserted it. It took only a few seconds for me to locate all the pins from the first to the key pin and push them up past the sheer line inside. The cylinder turned and the door opened with ease.

I knew there wouldn’t be any alarms going off since he didn’t have a system, so I quickly shut the door, not locking it, and crept to the office. Even though I knew he wasn’t home, it was best to be quiet anyway. It was a habit I didn’t like to break.

His office was cold at this time of night and there was a small lamp lit in the corner, casting the room in an eerie glow. I did a quick once-over of the office, trying to see if there was anything else of value. My eyes hesitated on the computer as I thought about going through his files, but I was already invading his privacy enough. Besides, I knew all I needed to know about Camden McQueen. Anything more might work against me.

I opened the closet doors and crouched down to the safe. I turned the dial to zero, then started going through the codes I came up with. I tried the usual suspects, then his birthday, then his son’s. I tried his license plate number, then the area code. I tried more things and more things and more things. Nothing doing.

After about thirty minutes, when the sweat began to collect on my forehead, I was about to resign myself to actually trying to crack the safe through the harder and more tedious methods when I had an incredibly vain thought. Camden used to like me…an awful lot. What were the odds of him picking my birthday? I had a single digit birth day and a double digit birth month, so it would work.

I turned the dial to one. Then two. Then nine.

The safe cracked open.

Shit. Camden had actually used my birthday as his code. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or creeped out. I decided on the latter, since any thoughts about the former would only hold me back. I had to stay focused and keep going. I was in way too deep at this point.

And it didn’t matter. I had done what I came here to do.

I slowly opened the safe door, and with my heart in my mouth, peered inside.

There was nothing but cash. Ziplock bags of cash. Some of them a mix of notes, others all hundred dollar bills. There was at least twenty thousand dollars piled up in the safe. It was an obscene amount and I almost started salivating at the sight, which was great since my tongue had started sticking to the roof of my mouth.

Originally, I was going to take it all. It was the only way I could make the robbery look natural. But perhaps if I threw a couple of bags by the door, as if I had dropped them during my escape, I could make it look like an accident. That way I’d still leave him with something. I mean, serves him kind of right for keeping this much cash in a safe. What, didn’t he trust the banks?

I took in a deep breath and with hands that trembled ever so slightly, I pulled my canvas Safeway bag out of my boot and began to pile the money inside in neat little bundles.

I was so engrossed in making the bag look as clean and as inconspicuous as possible, wrapping the excess plastic over on itself, that I didn’t hear the door open.

The only thing I heard was a sound that you never forget.

The sound of a Magnum’s hammer being pulled back.

The unmistakable cocking of a gun.

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