Page 12 of The Twilight Theft

“Posing as partygoers?” Malcolm gave her a similar sly look.

“Why am I here?” asked Jayce. “I don’t do undercover. I do the shadows.”

I sat again. “It’ll be a little of everything. The Reynolds team will go in with full access ahead of time, make a plan for how you’d recover the chip, then we shut down every opening you can find.That’swhere you come in.”

“Plus,” said Scarlett. “You’ll be at the event posing as a guest, Jayce. You’ll keep an eye out for anyone with slippery fingers.”

Jayce frowned, then rubbed a spot above her left knee. “Okay.”

So long as she also kept her own slippery fingers to herself.

Evelyn said, “The analysts have started their initial pass and you can expect reports in your inboxes by start of day tomorrow. Review the files. First step is identifying if there are faces, names, or aliases we recognize. Be at the airport for three o’clock when the jet leaves.”

“Do you need a flight back tomorrow?” Scarlett asked me.

“I’d appreciate it.”

Jayce stood suddenly. “We’re done?”

Evelyn nodded.

Jayce grabbed her bag from the corner and was out of the meeting room before anyone else stood. What was with her? She’d been full of her normal cocky attitude when I’d arrived. She’d fidgeted and moved around the entire time, her mood gradually deflating. Something about this job didn’t sit right with her.

Did it matter?

No.

There were files to review, discussions to have with my team, and plans to make with the Reynolds crew. I’d get a start on things from my hotel room, take a morning run, then continue the team prep on the flight.

That’s what mattered.

Not Jayce Monroe’s opinion.

Chapter 5

Jayce

Mysuitcasehitthedoorframe on the way into my office. Stupid roller bag. I shoved it into the corner and flopped into my chair, staring at the desk.

Mondays sucked.

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Spun the chair to look at the walls with their simple paintings and photos, none of them mine, except one selfie of me and my friend Leigh. Pulled open the drawer where I’d hidden my logic puzzle books, which normally did wonders to calm my nerves, but they weren’t what I needed, either.

What was it about Drew? The entire time he’d been in the boardroom with us, I’d felt like ants were crawling over my body. I couldn’t get comfortable. The profiteroles weren’t sweet enough. The mint I found in my pocket wasn’t minty enough.

Now, I was supposed to go undercover with the team to some fancy gala in Washington, DC? One trip to Washington a year was too much already.

But this time, we’d be there more than one night. There’d be downtime. I’d get the itch to explore.

To visit.

I pushed out of the chair and faced the back wall, where a small plaque hung. I put a hand on it, the one piece of my past which had moved everywhere with me.

Simple white background with black letters:Never fear the leap. Fear standing still.

Coach McInnis used to say that every time I was too scared for a new aerial movement. ‘Just jump. I’ll catch you if you need me to.’

This wasn’t a floor routine or the beam. This was work, and the only reason I was with Reynolds was because I was good at my work. I didn’t do undercover. I didn’t get dressed up in fancy clothes and wear death-trap shoes like Scarlett. Keeping my mouth shut and using pretty words was a skill I’d never needed at Reynolds.

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