Page 59 of The Woman with the Wallet

If someone saw us, it was dark. The best they would get was a tall man in a suit with dark hair and a slight woman. And a black SUV with the wrong plates.

Max grabbed my arm before I reached for the door, flashing her shiny fingertips at me. Sometime on the walk up the tiny path, she’d covered her fingertips with superglue again.

She reached around me for the knob, but it didn’t budge.

Before I could go back to the car for my own, Max produced a fucking lock pick kit from that bag of hers and got to work.

Admittedly, she was a fuckuva lot faster at it than I would have been.

She stood, put the kit away, then moved to my side, but just a half a step behind.

“Ready?” I asked, not sure if I was, in fact, ready to possibly find another body.

But there was no going back now.

“Yep,” she whispered as I pushed open the door.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Max

I had no idea what to chalk that momentary insanity up to. I thought my defenses were up, reinforced with rebar and cement. But clearly, that wasn’t enough to keep me away from Miko.

I needed a moat. Filled with fire.

And a fucking chastity belt.

I couldn’t describe the relief when Miko was quick to move on to the next thing when we pulled up to the quaint little cape-style house with overgrown holly bushes outside, their little red berries bright even in the dark early morning hours.

The inside of the house was dark as Miko moved inside in front of me. Normally, I would have bristled at that. But he was the one with the gun. And someone on this job was willing to choke me, hit me, and knock me out. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, straight-up murder Henry.

Sure, I was used to breaking into places. I was probably more the expert here than Miko was. But the houses I broke into didn’t usually require me to be armed. The worst I’d ever encountered was a halfway trained security dog who was easily distracted from his job by a treat and some belly scratches, leaving him bounding behind me through the house like my new best friend.

I certainly never had to worry about someone strangling me with a fucking charging cord. I was totally okay having the guy with the gun put his neck out there first.

That said, it was my hold on the back of his suit jacket that had him avoiding falling over a strangely placed ottoman. What can I say? My ability to see in the dark was keen thanks to so many years doing my job.

The common area was small and, as far as I could tell, empty. Of people or corpses.

It wasn’t until we made our way into the primary bedroom that there was a clatter to warn us just a second before the closet door flew open, knocking me back into the wall as a dark form flew at Miko.

His arm whacked the edge of the door, sending the gun flying.

I scrambled toward it, knowing I would be a hell of a lot more useful with a weapon than I’d be without it.

As I crawled across the floor, I heard the crunching sound of fists hitting flesh and my stomach dropped at the idea of Miko being on the receiving end of those punches.

The sounds of their grunts and curses filled the air, their bodies crashing into walls, into the dresser, items scattering all about. I finally saw the gun, wedged under a small desk sitting under the window.

It was as I crawled past the bed that a gasp rose up my throat. Because there, under the bed, was a man.

He was mostly in shadow, but there was just enough light in the room for me to see his wide, terrified eyes. And a finger pressed to his lips, begging that I didn’t give him away.

I didn’t exactly know my move right then.

Save for the fact that I needed the fucking gun.

So I scrambled forward, grabbed it, and turned with my back against the wall, holding it out in case I needed to use it.

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