Page 15 of The Devil's Dilemma

As long as I didn’t speak, it worked, and I amassed a pile of chocolate bars, cans of soda, and anything else that took my fancy.

Even Grandpa failed to notice me a couple of times when I walked into the house, but the moment I removed my coat with the chip in the pocket, he’d look at me puzzled, then back to the door.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

And when the chip wasn’t on me, he could see me. Maybe this could work.

I’d walked past the abandoned shop several times since visiting and not once had it looked like when I first saw it. The dull door didn’t morph into glossy red with a shiny brass knob. I must have imagined the whole thing, but the constant pulse of the chip in my pocket told a different story.

Slowly my confidence grew, and that gnawing doubt I’d been carrying around for the best part of a week faded, replaced with cautious optimism.

This could actually work.

One more test and I’d be happy.

Joel had called a meeting. I slipped on my light jacket, the chip tucked into the inside pocket. The last thing I needed to do was lose it.

I let myself into his house and strolled through to the open plan lounge and dining room where we’d held our meetings.

Pete and Freddie were already there, along with another man I’d not seen before.

Seemingly undetected, I listened as he spoke quietly to Joel.

“This Austin. He can get us what we want, yes?”

“I told you. He’s the real deal. It’s like he’s a walking lucky charm.”

“You’d better not be lying to me.”

“Uncle, why would I lie to you? He can get away with anything, probably even murder.”

“Well, let’s not go that far, but once this job is done, there’ll be plenty more needing doing. We could do with someone like him on the payroll.”

What the fuck? That was not what we’d decided on. This would be our last job. We’d all agreed, but as tempted as I was to walk straight back out the door and away from it all, I stepped closer.

Maybe I could work this to my advantage. If I could hide from everyone else, then why not Joel’s uncle?

“Where the fuck is Austin?” Pete walked right by me into the kitchen and returned with a couple more beers for him and Freddie.

“He said he’d be here. Don’t fret.”

I’d get no more information from hiding. Time to make myself known. I walked back to the front door, took off my coat, and hung it over the end of the banister.

“Hey, what have I missed?” I grabbed Pete’s beer and took a swig.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Pete asked.

“I had to run a few errands for Stan.” I turned to Joel’s uncle. “And who are you? I thought it was just the four of us meeting today.”

“Oh, this is Uncle Nick,” Joel said.

I offered him my hand, but as his sweaty palm touched mine, a shudder ran through me. Fat, pudgy fingers gripped my hand and squeezed. If he wanted a pissing contest, he’d get one, and I squeezed harder, all the while staring into his piggy eyes.

Why had I never met him before? I’d known Joel for years but never once had I met ‘Uncle Nick’.

“What’s he doing here?” I released his hand and slouched in the easy chair by the window, my leg slung over the arm. No way was I letting them see how rattled I was.

“Uncle Nick has an interest in this next job.”

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