Page 51 of The Twilight Theft

“The most obvious is the smash and grab.” She shifted her gaze to Wyatt, then back to Craig. She didn’t look at me and didn’t acknowledge me, other than answering my question. “Take the chip and run.”

Craig said, “It’ll be inside a ten-foot-tall sculpture.”

“So?” Her lips tightened. “If we only ever looked at the easy options, you wouldn’t have hired us. Assume they dislodge it somehow and take off—you’ll have enough security here that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“From there,” said Scarlett, “we look at all the angles. What if a security guard was paid off? Maybe they let the thief go by? Maybe they make a convincing play for the thief, but accidentally tackle someone pursuing them?”

Jayce nodded at Scarlett. “With all the possibilities and those angles to account for, there’s over a hundred options.”

“And ifyouwere going to take it?” I looked pointedly at Jayce, willing her to either meet my gaze or throw a taunt at me or something.

“I haven’t even seen it yet.” She stared out the window, toward the water or maybe the patio or the huge metal sculpture outside. “I’d go in with my list of one hundred scenarios and start crossing them off the more I learned.”

Wyatt rocked back on his heels. “A hundred plans ain’t no plan at all, darlin’.”

“It’s a flexible plan, is what it is.” Jayce smiled at him. At him! “Minus the explosives. I don’t like things getting messy.”

“Speaking of which…” Emmett scratched at his short beard. “Rav feels Wyatt would be more convincing with Jayce as a partner tomorrow night—”

“No.” The word was out of my mouth before I thought wiser of it.Push it into the locker, Drew. At least until you can talk to her. “We already went over this. You’re with me, Jayce.”

Scarlett cocked her eyebrow. “You hired us for our expertise and that’s what we’re giving you. Wyatt’s more believable with a younger woman on his arm than with Rav. Drew, you’re more likely the type of man who’d invite a friend.”

Jayce wandered away from the group, heading for George the carpenter. “Is this to display—”

Craig tucked his hands into his suit pant pockets, speaking loud enough I couldn’t make out anything else Jayce said. “You’re right. That makes more sense from a cover standpoint.”

Wyatt peeled off next, following Jayce.Go after her, Drew.If I did that, I’d have to concede the discussion on pairings for the gala.

Craig continued, “But your rotation of all groups had Drew and Jayce in the VIP room more than Wyatt and Rav.”

“Exactly.” I kept my peripheral vision trained on Wyatt, his hand winging out to touch Jayce’s back.Hands off. “We determined it was more likely I’d be interested in the art than him, giving us a reason to linger in the VIP room. Wyatt would be more likely to have her out on the dance floor than paying attention to anything important.”

“The decision’s made,” said Emmett.

Before I could protest further, Liana swept into the room, followed by a half-dozen men wearing tool belts, two of them carrying a five-foot wide slab of metal between them.

“This way,” she said in a singsong voice. “Craig! You’re here!”

People gradually filled the room. The coordinator with her clipboard escorted two men carrying wrapped paintings and two disinterested-looking men who may have been the artists. Another three women followed behind, in pencil skirts and tailored jackets, plus a man and woman in the black Mosaic shirts.

Craig introduced Scarlett and Emmett to Liana, while I made a beeline for Jayce and Wyatt.

“What are you wearing to the party?” Wyatt asked her. “I’ll wear cuff links that complement your dress.”

“Scarlett picked it out. It might be pink. Or blue. I’m not sure.”

Liana’s workers placed the platform over the southernmost X, the floor shuddering as it landed. One of them muttered, “Fucking heavy thing.”

The carpenter said something to them, gesturing with a hammer, while two of Liana’s followers debated whether it was in the right spot.

“Wyatt,” I said, “can I have a minute with Ms. Monroe?”

“One minute only.” He winked at Jayce and sauntered over to the women in the pencil skirts.

Jayce looked up at me, a defiant purse to her lips. “What?”

I kept my voice down. “What happened last night?”

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