Page 95 of Smoke Screen
“If I had that, I wouldn’t need you. I’d pay off one of the guards and steal 'em back myself.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
“I took pictures before we left.” He grinned. “In case I needed them.”
Phin snorted. A real stand-up guy, this one. “You work for the Veras?”
“I work for whoever is hiring.”
Mr. Loyal. Phin gestured to the phone. “Show me the pictures.”
Neck Tattoo swiped at the screen and held the phone up again. “Scroll left.”
Phin reached for Maddy, bringing her closer for a better view of a photo, revealing the inside of a safe outfitted with velvet-lined shelves. He swiped again, zoomed in on one shelf. A diamond tiara sat on a stand. He glanced down at Maddy, and she nodded.
“It’s from the queen’s collection.”
Phin swiped again. Brooch.
Maddy’s eyebrows hitched. “That looks like the pink diamond brooch. It’s stunning and hard to mistake.”
Another swipe led them to a triple-strand diamond necklace, also from the queen’s collection. Photo after photo revealed all seven items and Phin nearly crapped himself.
So close.
Now they had to recover them.
The sound of an engine broke through the distant crowd noise. A minivan cruised along, probably a family looking for parking. The van slowed to a crawl.
Phin froze for a second, watching, forcing his brain to engage. White minivan. Dodge logo. Knocking engine. Older vehicle.
His itchy skin fired again.
Just a family. Just a family. Just a family.
But what if it wasn’t?
Not taking any chances because, holy hell, his body was on fire, every nerve ending sizzling as he sidestepped, body blocking Maddy from the street. Taking a cue from Phin, Neck Tattoo moved two steps to his right, separating himself from Phin and Maddy.
Even better.
The van’s driver gunned the engine, the vehicle lurching forward, picking up speed. The passenger window came down, the guy sitting there lifting his right arm.
Gun.
No, no, no, no.
Phin spun, locked his gaze on Maddy. She must have seen something on his face because her eyes bugged out and her cheeks turned the grayish-green hue of death.
He shoved her. Just hauled off and pushed her. “Get down!”
Boom-boom-boom.Three quick shots rang out and Phin leaped, plowing into a still upright Maddy who’d bucked backward, teetering.
Cement sidewalk. If she hit her head? Toast. Major head trauma.
Boom-boom-boom.More shots, one of them whizzing right past his ear, lighting every nerve on fire. They’d die on the street.
Maddy.
