Mind Games (Lock & Mori #2)

“Lesson? What lesson?”

She leaned in close. “I’ve been in London more than a week, you know.”

I didn’t know. “Why didn’t you find us earlier?”

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and took long, slow steps down the sidewalk. “I needed to make sure my paperwork was ironclad before I threw myself into the chaos. There’s only one man for that job, and he lives near Hyde Park.”

“So you spent a week drumming up a false identity?”

Alice looked at me like I’d insulted her. “If all I needed was a license or passport, I’d have done that myself. I needed the whole paper trail, going back to the day I was born—into the loving arms of Em’s parents, of course. I had to prove I was your full-fledged auntie, or I expected they’d have laughed me out of the offices.”

She turned toward me, taking her next steps backward. And then she stopped walking and leaned back against a lamppost. “And that kind of work means Meeger papers.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she interrupted. “Not like you’re thinking. M-E-E-ger. No one knows his real name, but his forgeries are so flawless he got the nickname Meeger, after Han van Meegeren, a genius art forger back in the day.”

“And these Meeger papers fooled Tri-borough Children’s Services?”

Alice scowled. “All that money, and they didn’t even check it closely at all. They flipped through to make sure all the forms were there, rubber-stamped it, and sent me on my way.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Two reasons. First, I know you went to see your father today, and I’m sure he threatened to challenge my legitimacy as your guardian.”

Not technically, but I was sure it was only a matter of time. “And?”

“And I want you to know that we are rock solid. As far as anyone can prove, I am your aunt Alice and legitimate legal guardian. I don’t want you worrying about how to protect me or how to fight that man. He’ll lose this battle for sure.”

I felt my expression soften just a bit. “The second reason?”

“Is your lesson.” She turned to face forward and then started walking again. “I’ve decided to teach you how to be one of us.”

“One of you?”

“That first week, I stayed at a little bed-and-breakfast around the corner from that market. The man I was flirting with there? He stalks me every time I’m there. I’ve been chatting him up a little, answering his questions as I wander the aisles, and today I decided to give him what he’s wanted from me all along.” She stopped and turned to meet my eyes. “He wanted me to be frail and in trouble, so he could play the hero.”

I didn’t answer, so Alice grasped a lock of my hair and tugged it affectionately. My mother used to do that to me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about this woman co-opting the gesture, but I tried not to obsess over it.

“I was only giving him what he wanted. Trust me.”

I studied her face for a few seconds. “To what end?”

“I’m not sure yet what the end will be. This is what we call ‘priming the mark.’?”

“So you’re just setting him up?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But now I have him, in case I need something later on.”

There was something a little pathetic about that, using people so shamelessly. Pathetic, perhaps, but there was sincerity in it too. At least con artists didn’t pretend to themselves.

“Conning someone isn’t about getting something for nothing. When you do it right, the mark never knows they were conned. You give them what they want, and they give you a favor in return.”

“And by favor, you mean money.”

“Not always.” Alice was trying to play coy, but I could tell how much fun she was having with her lesson. I wondered how many others had been privy to this curriculum of hers. “There may come a time when one of us is in trouble. That man is primed to help us however we need. He won’t forget me and my eyes shining with grateful tears. He’ll think about it all night, smiling every time he does.”

I released a grunt of a laugh. “Where do you get the ego?”

“Learned from the best. This was all Emily. Your mom taught me everything I know, not the other way around.”

I tried not to frown, but I didn’t want to hear any more stories about my mom that day. “Not the mom I knew.”

“Just because you didn’t know this part doesn’t mean it wasn’t still her.” Alice’s smile widened. “Grifting’s an art. It takes a brilliant mind, fearlessness, and inner strength that few people can even aspire to. It’s how she survived when she had nothing and no one. It’s how she saved me. It’s also how she got stuck with a bunch of losers like Sorte Juntos to feed and care for. Hell, it’s even how she got stuck with that oaf, so don’t—”

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