Page 40 of The San Marco Heist

Too much team bonding and you were liable to get attached.

And what happened when you got attached? People left. Or your father moved you to a new country and you had to start all over again.

“You probably should’ve picked a different team.” Declan was already halfway through his beer. This was going to be a short visit. “We’ve had six newbies on the team over the last two years and none of them have lasted more than a month. Usually, they only make one job.”

“I’m not looking to be a member of this team long term.”

“You know what the problem usually is? Everyone’s terrified of Scarlett.”

That was hardly surprising. The woman had looks, brains, and an almost supernatural level of control. Not to mention how fast she could draw a gun and the way she could coat you in ice with a stare. “She’s not particularly welcoming.”

Declan threw back the last of his beer. “There are some big shoes to fill on our team. I know you’re not interested, but it was good to see someone stand up to her. She gets so stuck in her own head about what she’s doing and about keeping the rest of us safe that she doesn’t always make the right choices.”

Was this a chink in the Reynolds Recoveries armor? Dissent among the ranks?

“Just make sure you only do it at the right time. Continuing to battle with her just because you think it’s entertaining or to stroke your ego is going to get somebody hurt.” He stood and made his way to the kitchenette counter, where he placed his bottle. “And if it ends up getting Emmett killed, Rav is going to do his thing, which you do not want to see.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Never said you were.” Declan turned to face me, his cocky smile back in place. “I’m just giving you a friendly warning about the lay of the land. This team is a family. We have been for a long time. And I’ll be damned if we don’t bring Emmett home safe.”

“Then I suppose I should say thanks.” I stood and walked him to the door.

“Also, I’m guessing Scarlett didn’t tell you that Brie and Will finished checking into the other players at your little poker game.”

She hadn’t said a word, either good or bad about it.

“Somehow, they got their hands on a surveillance video from the game and she watched your interaction with the clowns. She pulled the kids off that line of investigation, which means she doesn’t suspect you were behind it, at least.” He opened the door, pretended to tip a hat at me, and left without another word.

Tomorrow, I was going into the Albrechts’ manor house with Scarlett and Jayce for reconnaissance. Apparently, including me in that mission was a bigger step than I’d realized. During our planning session, Scarlett had advised that I was to remain quieter than at the architect’s office.

But based on what Declan said, I might have more latitude than I expected.

Chapter 17

Scarlett

Wednesdaymorning,Malcolm,Jayce,and I got out of the SUV in front of the Albrechts’ house. We each wore black cargo pants and light-blue, button-front shirts embroidered with the B and L of Blue Luxe Events.

Will’s mother’s embroidery machine had made quick work of the shirts. We all sported exact replicas of those worn by the men and women we’d watched measuring the backyard for the tent and other decorations yesterday.

“How do people wear these things every day?” Malcolm blinked incessantly—almost as frequently as he’d complained about the need for colored contacts. The blue shirt had lit up his eyes so brightly, there was no way any woman within a fifty-foot radius wouldn’t immediately recognize him the next time they saw him. That was a risk we couldn’t take.

“Brown suits you,” I said.

Jayce snorted quietly to my other side. She’d wanted to see him in hazel, but pale eyes were too similar to the blue, in case he had to join us at the party. If I had my way—and I typically did—he’d be our driver that night, so the eyes wouldn’t matter.

But his irritation with the contacts was too much to pass up, after how much he’d screwed around during the architect visit. Served him right.

“Better than the red suits you,” he grumbled.

My wavy mass of fiery-red hair was a showstopper. No one would remember anything about my plain face—the hair would be the first and only thing anyone would describe. Since Iwasgoing to be attending the party, the misdirection was important. The thick-framed black glasses I wore would help, plus they had the added benefit of a camera built into the frame. The recording they’d send to Will would help clarify anything the drone missed. “How’s the camera signal?”

“Perfect,” said Will.

The pea gravel driveway crunched under my far-too-sensible flats. A stream of women in high heels would descend on this house in three days—ruining their beautiful soles and heels. Of course, most attendees could probably afford to throw out any pair they wore after a single night, so the only downside was the hassle of balancing over the gravel when they arrived.

“Do we know yet if they’ll have valet service?” I asked.

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