Page 78 of Riordan's Revenge

Heavy footsteps thudded on the stairs, descending. Fuck. Whoever it was would pass right in front of the living room door.

I was a sitting duck. I couldn’t move without either the chair or the painting making a sound. Nor did I have an easy route out of this room. Whoever it was, I’d have to rush them. I was good for a fight, better for Cassie’s brother’s extensive lesson, but that would mean abandoning my prize.

Annoyance curdled my blood.

The person finished their descent and strolled past the living room entrance, a phone raised to their ear.

My mouth fell open, recognition instant.

It was Piers Roache. What the fuck was he still doing on the scene?

Luckily, he was engaged with his call, and not with the house. His voice echoed in the hall. “No, it wasn’t like that. Are you fucking listening?”

I held my breath and made a choice. I wasn’t giving up my mission. Not for him. If I needed to, I’d take the fucker out.

With slow, steady actions, I lifted the painting and pierced the final edge.

“I don’t give a fuck about that bitch,” Piers continued on. “He still wants my money but he has less to offer. Yes, the business centre is going ahead. Without me, it couldn’t happen. Makepeace rubs people up the wrong way. His daughter was the diplomat who opens doors. Stupid slut.”

A clink followed, ice in a glass, which meant he was in the kitchen.

I packed away his words for dissection later and cut the last of the painting free from its frame. Then I rolled it up and folded the knife. Piers was in my path, which meant I needed another route out. If the front door was unlocked, I could make a break for it across the front garden and down to the street. I was fast.Dressed in black. With any luck, I’d make it back to my bike. If it wasn’t, I’d waste time I could’ve used to rush Piers.

Choices.

In the formal living room’s entryway, I peered out. The front door had a deadlock which gave me hope. Locked from the inside. It would open if I pulled both handles.

I squinted right, seeing nothing but the entrances to the kitchen and to the room across from it which Everly had called the mayor’s Council Chamber. All heavy furniture and oak panelling. The place where deals got made and old white guys got their dicks sucked.

I’d contemplated a little graffiti scored into the Council Chamber’s table as an added bonus of my visit, but now was the time to get the hell out of here.

But just as I readied to go, something appeared at the window beyond.

A small figure, peeking in.

I stopped dead.

No fucking way.

I took another glance at the skeleton staring back at me. It was the same fucking full-face mask Cassie had worn to Bronson’s interrogation. My heart lurched. I didn’t want to believe it. I was seconds away from freedom and getting away with my theft, but I couldn’t leave.

Not if Cassie had disobeyed me and had pursued me.

Piers droned on, the arsehole moving on to another topic, though he remained in the kitchen. My other option was to exit through the Council Chamber which had French doors to the garden, though was directly in line of the camera.

The one Cassie stood right beneath.

Clenching my jaw, I jogged down the hall, the heavy painting flopping under my arm. I dove into the Council Chamber andbacked against the wall, just as the kitchen door opposite creaked open.

“He’ll be back any minute,” Piers told his caller.

For fuck’s sake. My careful—okay, spontaneous—plan was falling to pieces. If Piers entered the formal living room, he’d see the picture frame with a gaping hole in it. If he changed his mind and came in here to wait for the mayor, we’d have to brawl and I’d lose the picture.

All I had left was speed. I homed in on the French doors. There was no key in the lock, and the handle twisted noiselessly but didn’t give. Fuck. Grabbing my skeleton key, I worked the lock. For every millisecond that passed, my heart beat faster. Sweat broke out on my brow, and I fumbled the key and almost dropped the painting.

Cassie appeared on the other side of the glass. I glowered at her and made a second attempt. She didn’t budge. Didn’t let me out of her sight. All I could see was her eyes, and the expression in them nearly ended me.

I’d scared her.

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