Page 17 of Brazen Criminals

The buzzing in my gut is making it hard to even hear myself speak. “Oh, your stuff! Here, take my car keys. I’ll make sure the car’s locked up behind the house, so your stuff stays safe.” I toss her my keys. “I’m so sorry. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

I leave her standing, holding my keys, looking reasonably pissed, and hurry out the doors, grabbing a few things that I need off the displays as I go.

It turns out the hanging plant hook is only so-so for breaking into my car. A soccer mom holding the hand of a toddler pauses to watch me work. I smile and wave. “Locked my keys in the car,” I say. After a long look, the mom picks up her tot and walks into the store, eyeing me a few times until the sliding glass doors block me from view.

Once she’s gone, I pop the lock, and I’m in. I pull my multi-tool out of my pocket and plop down under the steering wheel. After a little finagling, the engine purrs, my ancient car successfully hot-wired, and I take off for home.

It’s only after I’m halfway back that I realize Clara doesn’t have any of our numbers. I might be the biggest idiot yet.

Chapter 10

Walker

ThedrivetoIKEAgives me some time to get over my anger at Jansen. Am I surprised I’m suddenly picking up a string he forgot about? Nope. Am I annoyed that he broke my flow? Damn right I am. I was finally getting my wrist loose enough to mimic the fluidity of Rubens’ sketches. Once the feeling is ingrained, I should be able to take on some more ambitious “reproductions” of Rubens’ work.

At least I’m not working Trips’ game tonight. Jansen can pick pockets and verify IDs. RJ can look up the players and evaluate whether that high roller is betting their life savings from working at Mom’s craft store or whether that miser is tossing in pennies from Daddy’s billion-dollar empire. If it’s the latter, Trips will extend credit. If it’s the former, well, poor guys should always play it safe. Trips isn’t the most generous when he’s making money. He’s a beast when he’s losing it.

IKEA is busy with other students buying last-minute things before the semester starts Tuesday. Most of the colleges in the area started either last week or this week, so a younger crowd makes sense. I pick out Clara hovering near the exit, chatting on her phone. Backing into an empty loading spot, I hop out, my hands weirdly sweaty.

I wave at her, and she waves back, a cart with a burrito-shaped mattress next to her. Grabbing the cart, I roll it to my SUV. “Never mind, Emma,” I hear her say, “I guess he was telling the truth. My ride is here.”

There is a pause as whoever Emma is answers. I heft the mattress into the back, then toss the curtain rods and flowery fabric in after the mattress.

“Yeah, I’ll call you later. I know. It is a lot. It’s been, well, it’s been a day. You’ll be off at eight? ‘Kay, call me when you’re home. Love you too, babe. Bye.”

I’m about to push the cart to the sliding glass doors, but Clara dodges in front of me. “I’ll bring it in,” she says, taking the cart and disappearing into the store.

Once I’m back in the truck, I turn on the radio, then turn it down before adjusting it back up. I’m tapping at the steering wheel as she climbs in next to me, debating turning it back down a click.

I’m not usually this anxious, but Jansen pushed me off center with this girl. How do I apologize for one of my best friends’ extreme time blindness?I’m sorry my friend forgot he had a prior engagement and abandoned you at a big-box store?Probably not that. Sighing, I pull out and head home.

Clara tucks a flyaway chunk of hair behind her ear, fidgeting with her shirt again. I don’t like that she’s so uncomfortable with us. It makes me want to fidget, too.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she says, looking straight out the windshield.

I roll my eyes. “No problem. It’s not the first time I’ve had to clean up after Jansen. No worries.”

“Does he usually…” she starts.

“Not this bad, no, but Jansen gets caught up in whatever is in front of him, at the expense of whatever else he’s supposed to be doing. The guy has alarms for every one of his classes. I’m surprised he didn’t flunk out freshman year before RJ recommended the alarms.” I laugh, and there’s a hint of a smile from Clara. “Are you okay?”

She does a weird serpent-like head wave, then just shrugs. “I’ll be fine. It’s been a long day.”

I give her forearm a squeeze, snatching my hand back once I remember she’s not only my new roommate, but has a boyfriend.Hands off the pretty girl, Walker.“Did you get all your stuff? All moved in?”

“Not yet. My stuff is in Jansen’s car. He left me the keys.”

I can feel her gaze burning into the side of my face as I change lanes. Oh no. What now?

“I’m a little confused, to be honest,” she continues. “If I have his keys, how did he get his car home? Does he have a secret hide-a-key or something?”

I try to keep my face blank. Oh Jansen, you idiot, you couldn’t even last an afternoon without doing something suspicious? Not even a whole day before you decided to hot-wire your own damn car because you were late? I could kill him, I really could. “Yeah, something like that,” I say, oddly reticent to full-on lie to Clara. I better move this conversation onto a safer topic. “Say, let’s order a pizza. We can pick it up on the way back.”

I pull out my phone and try to open the food delivery app. She snatches it out of my hand. “Eyes on the road,” she chides.

“You got it, boss,” I reply. I sneak another glance at her and get a hint of a grin again, but she still looks bummed.

“What should we get? Is it for the whole house or just us?”

---