20

THE MIDDLE

I’m going to kill them.

I’m going to round them up, tie them together, and force them to watch bad action movies. I’m going to break into their homes and take their most valued possessions. I’m going to tell Grant about everything I’ve discovered and let him handle it.

Okay, I’m not going to do that last one. But the other three are definite possibilities.

There aren’t many places I can go in this city to be alone with my thoughts, which is why it’s no surprise I’ve ended up in the rare books room at the library. I sit in my usual seat, munching on a candy bar I smuggled in inside the leg of my pants. My dad used to come here when I was a kid, citing the restful atmosphere and absence of his young daughter as two very good reasons for retreat. I sort of picked up the practice when he was gone. Many a heist has been plotted here, many a problem solved.

It’s difficult for me to see a way out of this one, though. The Conrad Museum. The Starbrite Necklace. My friends and Tara in possession of the blueprints that provide access to both.

I tip back on two chair legs, staring at the ceiling as I try to wrap my brain around everything I know. Grant always says that new agents spend too much time acting and not enough time thinking. Even though I’m not a real agent, this is probably as close as I’ll get, so the advice holds.

He also says to take emotions out of the equation, but I doubt that’s going to happen anytime soon. I’d like to be the hard-headed, efficient machine he so often becomes in times like these, but I can’t. I can’t.

My friends and I have done a lot of unsavory things in our lifetimes, but the one thing I could always count on was our commitment to one another. I don’t love all of Riker’s life choices, and he definitely doesn’t love all of mine, but the unspoken rule is that nothing—nothing—can break the bond we share.

But they broke it. I broke it. It’s broken.

Not only is the Conrad Museum not a jewelry store like Jordan said, but the target has always been diamonds. Sure, there’s a chance they’re after an emerald necklace instead of a diamond one, but I highly doubt it. The Starbrite Necklace is too ideal a target for that.

My instincts wouldn’t lie—it’s everything we love in a take. It’s big and flashy and valuable enough to be worth the risk. Ten million times valuable enough, in fact. Security is tight, and access is limited most of the time, but a fancy setup like the ball opens up all kinds of possibilities. Next to jewelry stores upgrading their systems, it’s our favorite setup.

There’s no other way to look at this situation. I can’t be the only one getting excited about that necklace sitting in a museum, just waiting to be taken. My friends obviously heard about it and didn’t want me to know about their interest, so they lied about the blueprints. All of them, including Oz. I didn’t think it possible.

As if that isn’t bad enough, there’s also Tara to consider. Back when I was part of the team, I was the one responsible for the actual stealing. In order to pull off the same caliber of job as before—which the Starbrite Necklace obviously is—they’d have to find a replacement. Tara showing her face at just the right moment would have clinched the deal.

They disregarded what that woman did to me. They cast aside my pleas not to be forgotten, buried, left behind. They proved that when it comes to our history together, the next big take matters more than everything we’ve shared.

Despite all that, I can almost forgive them for it. Stealing things, planning heists—it’s the only thing we know how to do. If the past six months of my own struggles are any indication, it’s also who we are. If letting go of that hurts me this much, with Grant as the prize waiting for me at the end of each day, then I can hardly fault them for not following suit.

But.

I rock my chair down on four legs, hitting the carpet with a dull thud.

But.

There’s more to this situation than just a shiny necklace in a museum—and if I hadn’t been so caught up in my own affairs, I might have recognized it earlier. The truth is, the Peep-Toe Prowler operates too close to my methods to be a coincidence. It’s what made me think I was a suspect in the first place, what makes me so determined to uncover the truth now. Whoever this thief is, she’s got a serious Penelope Blue vibe.

And my Penelope Blue vibes? They’re feeling very, very excited about this Starbrite thing. If I hadn’t made a commitment to Grant—if I wasn’t determined to make a go of this honesty nonsense—I would be all over that necklace. Which means there’s a good chance that the Peep-Toe Prowler will be all over that necklace, too.

So either my friends are planning a heist to steal a necklace that the Peep-Toe Prowler is also planning to steal, or…

“Oh, no.” I groan, letting my head drop to the table. It shakes, but the wood is heavy enough to hold my many burdens. “It’s them, isn’t it? It’s been them all along.”

All their meetings without me. Their willingness to help me break into the FBI despite having already decided I wasn’t a suspect. Even their willingness to help me out now, obfuscating the truth at every turn. There’s no other way to take it: they’ve been using my proximity to Grant—using me—to get away with it this whole time.

The empty room doesn’t answer. Thousands of years of knowledge are trapped inside these rare books and manuscripts, and they have no advice for an ex-criminal whose federal agent husband is letting her help catch a group of thieves who also happen to be her best friends.

Whose side are you on, little monkey? the books ask mockingly. Good or bad? Right or wrong? Your husband’s or your friends’?

Stupid books. They’ve never been much use to me in the past, and they’re certainly not helping now. What I should do is burn the lot to the ground and fake my own death to go along with it. Short of breaking into the Conrad Museum and taking the damn necklace for myself, it’s the only exit strategy no one would see coming.

My breath catches, and I sit up straight.

No, Penelope, I think. You can’t. You promised Grant that no one would steal from there.

I did promise, comes the faintly mocking reply. But I never said I wouldn’t look around…

“Uh, ma’am?” The security guard at the door pokes his head in. “Is everything okay in here?”

“No, everything is not okay. I’ve been betrayed.”

He blinks. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave. We don’t allow that in here.”

“Betrayal?” I laugh. “That’s what you think. It’s everywhere.”

“I was actually talking about the candy bar.” He points at the table. “There’s no food in the rare books room.”

I get to my feet, tucking the crumpled wrapper in my pocket as I do. “Fine. I’ll leave, but only because this place is useless to me now. It’s been tainted.”

“Do you need me to call someone?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

It’s a bald-faced lie. I’m not good—I’m not even okay. But if history has proven one thing, it’s that Penelope Blue doesn’t stay down for long. My heart might be breaking and my marriage stumbling, but for the first time in a long time, I have a plan. There’s not much to it yet, but I need to see that necklace and witness for myself what kind of security protocols are in place. Not to steal it, of course. This is to solve a case, help my husband, get my life on track.

And if I find a few of my friends wandering around the building while I do? I tuck my wobbling lower lip between my teeth. Well. That’s a road I’ll cross when I come to it.