Page 31 of Brazen Deceits

He kisses me again, threading his hands into my curls. “Better now?”

“Much.”

“Good.”

As we stare at each other, I wish we had more time—all night at least.

I swallow back all my extra emotions, folding them into the pit of my stomach. “Help me find my clothes?”

“Anytime, beautiful. Anytime.”

I’m the last one in the living room for dinner after a pit stop at the bathroom. Jansen hands me a plate piled high with pot roast and veggies, with a fresh bun tucked to one side.

Walker’s claimed RJ’s chair, stabbing his meat with more force than is strictly necessary. I settle cross-legged between RJ and Jansen, glad I don’t have to sit next to Walker right now. I’d be throwing fingerling potatoes at him if Jansen hadn’t stopped by my room and helped me burn off the sharp edges of my rage.

Thank you, Jansen, for letting me fake normal. Now, hopefully I can make it through this meeting with enough brain power to follow along and learn more about heist planning.

Trips wipes his mouth with a napkin, his eyes blazing at me. I know he hates being late, but it’s not like there’s an actual deadline tonight. Fifteen minutes for everyone to eat first seems like a courtesy, not a failing, but whatever. I spear a carrot and ignore his ire.

Once I look down at my food, breaking eye contact, Trips’ plate knocks against the coffee table. “Everyone clear on the objective?” he asks, signaling the start of the meeting.

Jansen swallows a piece of tofu. “Retrieve a password from a secure location on the Sunday after Thanksgiving between 11 a.m. and noon.”

This is the one thing in that whole packet that I understood. Now it’s on to the more complicated bits. For example,floor plans of a Chicago mansion? Not something I’m familiar with. Let alone the security map? Way over my head. At least I have delicious food to keep me busy while I observe how the guys work.

Trips turns to RJ. “Security issues?”

RJ swallows before answering. “All of them. They have cameras, motion detectors, window alarms, all top-of-the-line tech. Add to that the security personnel on site, and the failsafe lockdown protocol? It’s zipped tighter than your average country bank.”

Walker sets down his plate, his food mostly untouched. “What did you find out about the family?”

RJ balances his plate on his lap, speaking with his fork. “Our target is apparently Jasmine’s family, and the password is her grandfather’s.”

Trips crumples his napkin in his fist. “Fuck. And of course, she didn’t put that in the brief. Did you figure out why they have such good security, besides being wealthy as Midas?”

RJ rubs the back of his neck, shifting his weight so his thigh presses against my knee, a glowy feeling moving through me with the casual contact. “It’s hard to verify, but if I were to guess, Grandpa was a mob fixer, and Jasmine’s uncle took over the family business when Grandpa retired. I can’t trace it to be sure, but there are just enough points of contact, a few old news articles, you know. I don’t know all the players in Chicago or anything, but I have a feeling it’s going to shake out that way.”

The energy in the whole room shifts with this information. Trips drops his head into his hands, Walker slouches back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. Jansen’s leg bounces,whatever calm he’d carried into the room burst by the mob connection.

I set my fork down on my plate. “Is the mob still a thing? Didn’t it die out after prohibition?”

Four sets of eyes lock on me, and I feel like an idiot.Read the room, Clara. They wouldn’t be so on edge if the mob were a fairy tale.I swallow, looking down. “Never mind,” I mutter.

RJ rests his hand on my knee, and Walker twists a bit in his chair, subtly turning his back to us. A gentle squeeze from RJ keeps me from seeing red. “No, it’s a legitimate question. They’re quieter, they’re smarter, but they’re still there. It’s just that at some point, the mob left the dirty jobs to the local gangs. They get most of their money through laundering for other organizations. They own a bunch of construction companies, nightclubs, and restaurants. The pulse of politics in Chicago is under their finger as well, and I doubt they ever go more than one election cycle without a pet politician to help them out.”

I smile my thanks, and he squeezes my knee again, butterflies fluttering in my gut. Trips pulls his head from his hands. “Great. How do we keep ourselves from ending up at the bottom of Lake Michigan?”

Jansen scoops some more veggies onto his plate, snatching up a second bun. “It’s going to be tough. I need to do a stealth in and out, but with that security layout, well, I’d have to know more, you know?”

“There aren’t any obvious gaps in the system as designed, but—” RJ starts.

Jansen finishes for him. “—Design isn’t what they installed. There were people involved, and people make mistakes.”

They grin at each other over my head, and I match their faces, not really getting the joke, but going along with the vibe.

“So you guys are going to have to do some surveillance and see if you can hack in?” Trips asks.

RJ takes his hand back from my knee. “There’s no way we can do this on the fly.”

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