I nodded, my mouth set into a grim slash. This had been Deirdre’s master plan all along. Santos must have told her that there was no way to heist the jewelry from Briartop, that there were too many guards and too many cops at the museum. So the two of them had sent those men in to die, all with the ulterior motive of getting the jewelry moved somewhere else—somewhere better.
Fletcher had a saying: Why steal one million when you could steal two? In this case, why just rob the museum when First Trust was a veritable treasure trove of jewelry, cash, and other valuables? But Deirdre had needed an inside man at the bank to make her plan work. Someone high up on the food chain. Someone above suspicion. Someone to squire her around and give her tours and let her into the basement vault so that she could memorize the security setups and pass all that info on to Santos.
Finn was that inside man. He just didn’t realize it.
Bria stared at me, putting Deirdre’s plan together the same way I had. With one thought, we both bolted out of the rotunda.
Xavier had left to check on something elsewhere in the museum, and I didn’t see him among the throngs of cops and guards Bria and I darted past. There was no time to track down the giant and tell him what was going on. Every minute, every second, counted now.
Even though Finn might already be dead.
That icy fist squeezed my heart again, but I forced myself to push the thought away. Finn wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be.
He just couldn’t be.
Right before Bria and I reached the front doors of the museum, I grabbed her arm and forced her to slow down to a fast walk.
“Easy,” I murmured. “We don’t want to attract any unwanted attention. We need to get out of here as quietly as possible.”
Bria didn’t like it, but she nodded and matched her pace to mine. We skirted around more clusters of cops, and she stabbed her finger to the right toward the parking lots.
“This way,” she said. “My car’s this way.”
“Right behind you.”
Still keeping to our fast walk, both of us weaved around the other cops and then ducked under the yellow crime-scene tape that had been strung up around the museum perimeter.
Bria broke free of the crowd, her strides getting shorter and quicker until she was almost running again. She couldn’t help herself, and neither could I. The two of us darted around patrol cars with flashing lights and raced over to her sedan. We jumped in, and she cranked the engine and zoomed out of the parking lot. I grabbed my phone and tried Finn again.
No answer.
“How long ago did the security company arrive at the bank with the jewelry?” I asked.
“The armored truck had just pulled up to the bank when I told you,” Bria said, glancing at the dashboard clock. “Ten twenty-three now. So maybe five minutes ago?”
I cursed. Santos and his crew had probably already taken down the armored-truck guards, along with those at the bank. The heist was in full swing now.
Bria drove down the hill to the covered bridge. She reached for the switch to flip on her sirens and blue lights, but I grabbed her hand.
“Don’t,” I said. “Santos might have someone watching the museum to make sure that the cops stay here. I don’t think that anyone noticed us hurrying outside, but a car leaving with sirens and flashing lights might tip him off. If Santos and Deirdre realize that we’re on to them, they’ll grab what they can from the bank, execute Finn and anyone else inside, and leave before we get there. We need to be smart about this. Not go rushing in blindly.”
Bria’s mouth tightened, but she dropped her hand from the switch. “What do you suggest?”
“Just drive away from the museum at a normal speed. Once we’re a couple of miles away, hit the gas. And let me make some calls in the meantime.”
Bria nodded, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. “If that bitch has hurt him, if she has mussed so much as one hair on his head, I will strangle her with my bare fucking hands.”
“Not if I get to her first,” I promised, my voice as dark as hers. “Not if I get to her first.”
*
While Bria drove, I made another round of calls. I finally got through to Silvio, who’d been talking to someone, digging up more dirt on Deirdre. I told him what was going on, where I wanted him to meet us, and, most important, what I needed him to bring me.
I’d just hung up with the vampire when Owen called. I told him the same things I’d told Silvio, and he promised to meet us ASAP.