Page 37 of Last Chance

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, ma’am. We’re trained in everything imaginable, including picking locks.”

Of course they were. Who knew when you might need to break into a place to save a victim of a crime? After all, Sawyer had already picked the lock on her cell in seconds.

Sawyer reappeared two minutes later and opened her door. “Clear.” He helped her from the vehicle and hustled Janie into her shop while scanning the area for trouble. Thankfully, they didn’t encounter any.

Once the three of them were inside Natural Bliss, Sawyer reset the alarm. “Do you have a spare key to the shop? I could keep picking the lock, but eventually one of the Hartman police officers will catch me at it and ask some hard questions.”

Janie smiled, amused. “I do. It’s locked in my desk drawer inside my locked office. Do you have a stopwatch, Jesse? I’d like to see how fast Sawyer really is.”

The medic chuckled.

Sawyer’s eyes twinkled. “Enjoying this, are you?”

“Immensely. Jesse tells me that ten seconds was slow for you. Is he telling the truth?”

“Maybe.”

“Fortress training taught you how to break into places?”

He hesitated.

Ah ha. A story. Janie pointed at him. “The truth, Chapman.”

Jesse folded his arms. “Yeah, buddy. Let’s hear it.”

“Fortress honed my B & E skills.”

Sawyer had a history of B & E? Seriously? “Wait. Weren’t you a cop?”

“My entire team was in law enforcement in Texas.”

“So, where did you learn to break and enter?”

“My misspent youth.”

She stared. “You learned the skill when you were a kid? How?”

“We were dirt poor. My dad died in prison, leaving my mom with five kids to raise by herself. She did her best, but Mom had to work two jobs to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads. Unfortunately, she never finished high school, so her jobs were low paying. My brothers and I raised ourselves on the streets. My oldest brother, Hugh, made sure we went to school every day. We didn’t always have enough food for lunch, but he made us go every day, anyway.

“People in our neighborhood called us street rats. They weren’t wrong. It’s amazing none of us got into serious trouble with the gangs or the law.”

“Who taught you how to pick locks?”

“Charlie, the jewel thief who lived a mile and a world away from us.” Sawyer chuckled. “He caught me trying to break into his house. Instead of calling the cops, he found out my story and taught me everything he knew.”

“Including breaking into safes,” Jesse added.

Good grief! Picking locks and cracking safes? “Did you ever get caught, Sawyer?”

“Only by Charlie. Never by the police or anyone else.”

“What did you steal?”

“Cash and jewelry. Charlie introduced me to his fence, who disposed of any jewelry and paid me a decent cut of the money.”

“What did you do with the money?”

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