It’s five days before she makes contact.
She gives me only fifteen minutes’ notice to meet her at a farmer’s market near the beach. It’s crowded and loud and exactly the place I would have suggested if I were her.
“The only Lucca Marino matching your age and ethnicity was the one mentioned in an obituary for Angelina Marino of Eden, North Carolina.”
I nod. “And that’s all anyone will find until I decide otherwise.”
We walk through the stalls, dodging little kids, until we get to a small area full of picnic tables. There’s an empty one in the back corner, and she sits down on one side while I sit down on the other.
“So, talk.”
I jump right in. “I have a friend who helps me on jobs. He piggybacked on the security system prior to me going in on the Tate job. You were there right after me. You lifted the forgery I left behind.”
She’s quiet for a moment then finally says, “I got my ass chewed out that I handed over a fake and didn’t know it.”
“That was probably the ugliest painting I’ve ever seen. I can see why you wouldn’t think anyone would re-create it,” I say to break the tension.
She laughs. It’s quiet and short lived but I’ll take it.
Then my smile fades when I think about what I’ll have to tell her. “Did you know we weren’t the only ones there trying to recover it?”
She nods. “Yeah, I was told it was some sort of bullshit test. Winner got a bonus.”
“I think it was more than a test,” I say quietly. “My friend was able to identify everyone else, and I went looking for them, just like I did you.”
“And?”
I clear my throat. “And it’s just us. We’re the only ones left.”
Amy sits up a little straighter. “What do you mean?”
“Mr. Smith was cleaning house, and this was his way of determining who he was keeping and who he wasn’t. And it’s not like he can just fire us after the things we’ve seen and done.”
I list the names of the others and causes of death while she stares at me, unblinking.
“I think you were spared since you actually figured out the puzzle by going to the laundry room even though you walked away with the fake.”
When I asked Devon to locate everyone he had on video, it was for selfish reasons. This is such a solitary way of life, constantly moving and lying about who you really are. I didn’t see the others only as competition. I saw them as potential friends. Others who would understand the challenges of living and working like this. A group where we could be our true selves and possibly even help one another, even if just as sounding boards when tasked with a difficult job. Devon was a bit more hesitant to track down the others, but I won him over. Neither of us were prepared to learn that everyone but Amy was a victim of some grave accident or sudden fatal illness shortly after that job.
Amy still hasn’t said anything.
“It’s only a matter of time before we’re on the wrong side of one of his tests. If it wasn’t for my friend, I wouldn’t have known to go to the laundry room. He literally saved my life.”
She looks away from me and stares out into the crowd.
“I’m not waiting around for him to take me out,” I say.
Finally, I get a reaction. She frowns as she considers my words and what they mean. “So you’re what, quitting? I tried that . . . there’s no quitting.” Her voice cracks, and it’s clear there is so much she’s not saying.
“Mr. Smith has got to go,” I say.
She’s shaking her head. And looking like she’s about to get up. I’ve spooked her.
All I can do is push forward. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. But I can’t do it alone. If you’re in, we are going to have to take our time. Gather everything we can on him. Something to use against him. As dirty as he is, you know there is someone he’s screwed over. We get the details then we turn him over to them. Let them take him out.”
Amy stares off to the side, her jaw clenched tight.
I keep talking. “And we’ve got to find out who he really is. It doesn’t do any good to tell someone he’s double-crossed them unless we are also handing over his identity.”
She’s shaking her head. I’ve thrown a lot at her and she’s not processing it as fast as I’m saying it.
“We’ll protect ourselves at all costs,” I add. “When it comes time to turn the table on him, we need to control everything down to the last little detail.”
She stands up and takes the first step to walk away, and I ask, “Do you have any family that he can use to get to you? Someone you’d do anything to protect?”
She contemplates whether or not she wants to answer me for a long time.
“Yeah, there’s someone.” It’s all she says and I don’t push for details.
“Then we’ll have to make sure they are protected.”
She finally turns to look at me. “What about you?”
“No. I don’t have anyone.”
I watch her as she debates what she wants to say.
“Have you ever told him no on a job? Ever refused to do something he asked you to do?”
I shake my head. “No. I haven’t.”
She looks off, giving me a frustrated laugh. “You have no idea what he will do if he finds out what you’re planning.”
I’m a little worried she didn’t say what we’re planning, but she hasn’t walked away. Yet.
“He’ll try to wreck us but if we get in front of it, it could be like one of those controlled explosions,” I finally say. “Like when the only way to get rid of a bomb is to detonate it. We’ll control as much as we can, so when things explode, like we know they will, the fallout won’t be as bad.”
She laughs again as if I’m naive. And maybe I am.
“So you’re really doing this,” Amy says a bit later.
“I don’t think we have any other option,” I answer.
Chapter 26
In my line of work, there are the short cons and there are long cons, and I’ve just finished the longest one of my life. I’m feeling a bit out of sorts now that it’s over.
I was only slightly joking when I said I was going to sleep for three days, since I slept for most of two. Devon and Amy tiptoed around me, making sure there was food close by and not peppering me with questions like I know they wanted to.
Because this was a long job for them too.
“You’re finally awake,” Devon says as he sinks down in the chair next to the couch.
“Barely,” I say. “It’s like a hangover but without the fun of getting one.”
He laughs. “So too early to bust out the champagne?”
“It’s never too early for that,” Amy calls out as she enters the room, taking the chair next to Devon. “Morning.”
“If you say so.” Just as I’m thinking about how badly I need coffee, Amy sets a mug down in front of me.
We’re quiet for a moment, then Amy says, “Wish I could have seen his face in the bank vault when he opened the safe deposit box.”
Devon laughs. “I said the same thing.”
Shrugging, I say, “I wanted a jaw-dropping look of astonishment that I had bested him, but I only got a raised eyebrow.”
For the next half hour, I fill them in on all the details of the meeting with the detectives, since Devon wasn’t listening in for that.
“God, you’re lucky he basically sent your twin or you would have been toast,” Amy says. “Even with the alibi from Tyron, it would have been hard to convince them that wasn’t you.”
I shrug. “We could always have risen you from the dead if prison loomed too close. I’m not actually a murderer.”
Amy laughs. “Well, yeah, there’s that too.”
“It was a good thing Amy was already in that laundry basket before the filming started. I checked that building right before I delivered the body from the morgue, and the room directly across from hers was empty.” Devon frowned then added, “I hate when someone gets the jump on me like that.”