Page 89 of Last Seen Alive
“You know, it feels like something’s off with her. Not that I can put my finger on what.”
“Well, I think Mona knows very well that Claire went to her house. I wouldn’t even be surprised if it was to see Mona herself for some reason.”
“I don’t think we have enough to make that leap yet, but when we get back to Central, I’m going to reach out to Metro PD and see if Rita was ever questioned after Martin’s murder.”
“Smart idea.”
“Did you ever get that employee list from Malachi Walsh at the gallery?”
“Oh, I was going to follow up on that.” She pulled out her phone and said, “No email. I’ll call now.”
While she was on the phone, he pressed the gas. He was hungry for answers and had every intention of getting them.
THIRTY-TWO
He told her not to worry, that he had everything under control. That she was a real natural. She did have a talent for manipulating things to go her way. She kept replaying his many compliments in her head, but they were overrun with images of Larry’s limp body on the bed.
“You did great.” Nick flashed one of those smiles that had his dimples deepening. After all these years, they still had a way of making her go weak in the knees.
He parked the van in a 24-hour underground garage, and they got changed in the back. They had jackets with numerous pouches and hid them beneath coveralls—the latter, the same uniform as the custodial staff wore at Lawson Investments. While her job was getting the key, Nick was procuring the outfit, including employee badges on lanyards. But both their jobs were far from over.
Once suited up, they walked toward the Lawson Investments building. Claire’s nerves were on high alert, making her shake.
She took a few deep breaths; an exercise Nick had taught her to ground and calm herself.
The high-rise now in front of her was intimidating, with most of its windows darkened against the skyline. Just the flashing lights on the top to warn aircraft of its existence.
Nick flashed the key card in front of the pad next to the doors. The pad flashed green and beeped. He got the door for her.
A security man sitting at the front desk nudged his head at them.
“Hey, there,” she said, with a smile, impressed with how she’d kept her nerves from altering her voice. “Larry’s just not feeling well tonight. We were called in.”
“Have we met?”
“We’re new hires.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss…?”
She lifted her lanyard showing her employee card. “Nadia. You?” she purred.
“Charlie.” He put his gaze on Nick.
“We need to get to work, Charlie,” she said, tossing out a wink. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Most certainly do.”
They left Charlie at the front desk. One of two security guards for the entire building. Martin Lawson, who owned this place, must have had confidence on par with God.
They first hit the janitor closet and got a cart each. Then they took the elevator straight to the top floor, number twenty-eight. The entire floor was dedicated to Lawson’s collection. Artwork, jewels, priceless sculptures… that Fabergé egg.
She had her list of specific items to grab, and she’d been instructed to take nothing in addition.
“Got it,” Nick said, talking to the contact on the other end of the mic in his ear. He said to her, “The cameras are out.”
She barely nodded in acknowledgment. Adrenaline blanketed her in a sense of serenity, dampening the rational fear that always lingered in the background. The repercussions if this went bust. She’d be headed to prison. The trick was don’t get caught.
But she kept doing this, and not just to please Nick—heists were a high like no other. As much as she toyed with the thought of leaving this life, she never would.
