She tried 0408 for Amelia’s birthday, and then Mr. Pennythistle’s, but the red light appeared again and again. Then, feeling pretty hopeless, she typed in the code for her own birthday. The LED flashed green, and the hinge unlatched. Spencer pressed her lips together, guilt swelling over her. But maybe her mother’s usage of her birthday was fairly arbitrary, just another semi-significant number combination after lots of other semi-significant number combinations had already been used. It didn’t mean anything, did it?
Several diamond bracelets were arranged carefully on a velvet tray. Two red Cartier boxes were nestled into a trough, along with a box from Tiffany and a Philadelphia jeweler Mr. Hastings frequented. Spencer opened the first Cartier to find the massive emerald ring her father had given her mom a few Christmases ago. The next box held a pair of diamond earrings he’d presented to her for an anniversary. There were more velvet boxes in a second tray bearing bracelets, diamond hoops and studs, a pear-shaped diamond ring that looked to be at least three carats, and a pink diamond brooch Spencer recalled her father giving to her mom for her birthday.
Spencer heard a sound and looked up. Was her mom here? Hands fluttering, she scooped up some of the velvet boxes and stuffed them into her pocket. She selected the pink diamond—her mom probably wouldn’t notice it was gone—a few bracelets, and a pair of big diamond studs that looked identical to the ones already in Mrs. Hastings’s ears, then rearranged everything in the box to look as though it had been untouched.
She shut the lid, darted out of the closet, and was almost to her room when someone cleared her throat behind her. Spencer wheeled around. Amelia stood in the middle of the hall, staring.
“O-oh!” Spencer sputtered. “I didn’t know you were home.”
Amelia looked Spencer up and down, her lips pressed tightly together. She glanced at Mrs. Hastings’s open bedroom door and said nothing.
Spencer’s heart jumped. “I, um, wanted to borrow my mom’s curling iron,” she blathered. “It’s much nicer than mine.” It was the first thing she could think of.
But then her stepsister’s gaze fell to Spencer’s hands. Not only were they curling iron free, but she was wearing the pear-shaped diamond ring she’d snuck out of the jewelry box. Spencer’s heart jumped. Just get out of here, a voice in her head screamed. Go before you dig an even deeper hole.
She pushed past Amelia into her own bedroom, slamming the door loudly. After a moment, she heard Amelia close her own door and the classical SiriusXM station snap on. The guilt started to snake around her like a noose. Amelia was going to say something. Should Spencer just put everything back?
But the only thing she could picture in her mind was the four block walls of a prison cell. And the lawyer’s words: It makes the most sense for you girls to enter a plea bargain. They felt like the only two valid thoughts in her brain, crowding out everything else.
She fled out of her room and slipped into Mr. Pennythistle’s office. He had a separate landline from the home phone, which she knew was being monitored. She hated using this phone in case the cops were monitoring it, too, though she doubted they were quite that thorough. And anyway, she’d only be on with Angela for a few moments—not long enough to trace.
Angela answered on the first ring with, “Who’s this?”
For a moment, Spencer couldn’t find her voice. “I-it’s Spencer Hastings,” she finally got out. “I just wanted to let you know I have the money you’re looking for so that I can . . . you know. So that you can help me with what I need.”
“I’m listening,” Angela said gruffly. “When can you get this money to me?”
“Well, it’s in jewelry, not cash,” Spencer explained. “I can’t get to you because I have a tracking bracelet on, but I’m good for it, I swear. I want to go as soon as possible,” she added. “Whenever you can make it happen.”
There was a pause. Spencer checked the clock, remembering from an old episode of 24 that she had only another twenty seconds or so until the call could be tracked. “All right,” the woman on the other end finally said. “Send me a photo of the jewels so I know they’re up to snuff. And then I want you outside your house on Saturday night at 10 PM. Sharp. We’ll make the transaction and get you gone all in the same day. You’re a minute late, or the jewels are shit, and all bets are off. Got it?”
“Of course.” Spencer’s hands were shaking. “But you’ll be able to remove my ankle bracelet when you pick me up?”
Angela snorted. “I have ways of getting that thing off and duping the system for a little bit. But you’ll be on borrowed time. We’ll have to get you out of range, and fast.”
“Thank you,” Spencer said, feeling a prickle by her eyes. “I’ll see you then.”
There was a sharp click, and Angela was gone. Spencer stared at her reflection in the vanity across the room. Her pockets bulged with jewels. She closed her eyes. Saturday night. That was two days from now. She could make it until then.
She had to.
19
CEASE AND DESIST