Page 118 of The Twilight Theft

Where was she?

Whowas she?

The flashlight flicked on again and I retreated before the beam hit my face.

“I know you’re back there.”

I’d only spoken with her briefly, but I recognized the voice. Ms. Legs-a-Lot.

“I only want the bird.” The light shifted as she pulled the slide on a gun. She was on the other side of the register. “I’ll leave you alone if you hand it over.”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t belong to you.” I twisted my head to watch the light over the register, which would tell me when she moved. The counter was free-standing, so I could run left or right around it if I needed to. “And that gun doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot.” She moved closer, surprisingly quiet.

“You’re Drew’s ex, right?”

Another step closer. “I’m the woman who decides your fate tonight. Either hand over the bird or move to the front of the shop so I can get it.”

I’d told the team who it was. I’d told them she had a gun. What else would Emmett need? “It’s just you, isn’t it?”

C’mon, Emmett. Hurry up.

I felt her next to me as much as I saw the movement. How was she so fast? The flashlight— Shit. The flashlight was on a shelf, not in her hand.

She gestured with the gun. “Stand up and move back.”

“Can you help me?” I stretched out my bad leg, running a hand along the brace over my suit. “I hurt my knee at the party.”

She frowned, the flashlight casting deep shadows across her face. “It had to be you, didn’t it?”

“What are we talking about?”

Blondie crouched down, her ridiculously low-cut dress shifting to highlight her cleavage. She must have used tape. “You smell like sandalwood.”

Ididn’t smell like anything. Every product I used on my body was chosen to ensure I left no trace. “You may be smelling—”

“And sex.” She extended the gun in my direction.

Quick scan. Her shoes were off. The dress had a high slit, allowing her free movement. She carried a Glock, so no safety to check, even if there was enough light to tell.

“Get out of the fucking way, shorty.” Her voice cracked. She was upset. It wasn’t the time to figure out why.

Although that might buy you some time. Or piss her off enough to shoot me.

I put my hands out in front of myself and reached for my pack.

“Leave it. Just move.”

“Okay.” I nodded slowly, lifting myself to inch backward. “I won’t try to stop you.”

“Pathetic.” She straightened, looking at the statue, then back at me. “I can’t believe he opened the Cavallotto Barolo for you.”

My hand slipped, and I went down harder than I should have, pain bouncing from my hip down my leg. “The what?”

“Exactly.” Vanessa stepped forward as I moved back, keeping ten feet between us. She knelt next to the bird and wrapped a hand around it, as though she didn’t realize it was fifty-plus pounds of solid gold. It didn’t budge.

Where was Emmett? He should have knocked on the front door by now.

---