“They should.” Another turn. Another door. This one led into an office. One that was locked. He shoved his hand into her bag, hauled out a few lock-picking tools, and the lock snicked open about three seconds later. Luckily, no goon was waiting beyond that door. The smoke bombs always did the trick. When people saw smoke, they hauled ass.
“You’re really good at picking locks.”
Despite the tension that rode him, Remy sent her a smile. “I’m a good thief.”
After all, he’d learned from the best. Or the worst, depending on how you wanted to look at the situation. Thesmoke bombs had been a tool his father loved to use. He’d clear a museum with them in moments. Then he’d take his prizes with glee.
Focus.
“Are you in?” Constantine’s voice chimed in his ear. The comm was incredibly small and powerful. A bit of tech supplied by Wilde. Got to love those Wilde toys.
“In the main office now,” Remy returned as he headed to the bookcase behind the overly large desk. A desk withnopapers on top. No computer. Nothing at all. “You got eyes on the building?”
“You know it. Hurry your ass along, would you? The crowd is gathering and gawking. The fire department will be here soon, and they’ll realize fast that this is just smoke and mirrors.”
Right. He reached for the bookcase. Looked for a trigger mechanism. “When I studied the schematics, I realized there was extra space behind this wall. It looked like it was nothing. Not marked as any kind of room. But in my line of work, things are never what they appear to be. Preston must have realized the same thing, so he got a crew to bust in the wall.”And you put a bookshelf up to cover what you found, didn’t you, Preston?When Preston had told Remy that the safe was at the house in the French Quarter, he’d mentioned that it was hidden behind a bookshelf.
The bookshelf part had been true, but the French Quarter location had been a lie.
Remy felt the small button near the edge of the second shelf. Remy pushed it, then jumped back as the door swung out. His fingers curled around the edge of the bookshelf door, and he hauled it all the way open. “Well, well…” Another room. Just as he’d expected. And in the middle of that room? One very large, old-school safe. No gleaming keypad. No fingerprint scanner.Just a black safe, with a dial right in the middle and a handle near the top. “I’ll let you do your thing.” Remy waved her in.
And while Jacqueline crouched before the safe, Remy took the opportunity to look around that little room. The safe wasn’t the only object inside. In fact, Remy had the feeling he was gazing at a treasure room. Expensive necklaces gleamed to the right, perched on velvet cushions. Rings that glittered with diamonds and emeralds had been positioned around the necklaces. Because he had an eye for stolen work, Remy recognized several famous pieces that had gone missing over the last decade.
You think you’re a collector, Preston?
Files filled a shelf to the right. Remy wondered if maybe he was dealing with a guy who was afraid of leaving a tech trail that might point to his guilt with the whole money laundering bit. Had the guy really been enough of a dumbass to keep paper files? If so, Remy knew some federal agents who would be thrilled with this discovery.
He continued his perusal, and Remy whistled when he saw what looked like three bricks of cocaine.Oh, yes. He’s a complete dumbass. Complete and total.
A tip to the Feds would be in order once Jacqueline and Remy finished their bit of business. Remy glanced down at his watch. “How’s it coming?”
She didn’t answer. Frowning, he looked over at her. She had one hand on the dial. One hand pressed to the front of the safe. Jacqueline had leaned in close, and her ear seemed to brush over the surface right above the dial. An intense look of concentration covered her face.
“I’ll take that as a… ‘It’s coming along great, thanks, Remy,’” he murmured. His gaze slid to the open bookshelf door. Hedidn’t hear any voices, but they had to be ready for an intruder to come in at any moment.
“Remy.” Constantine’s voice held a hard note of tension as he used their comm link. “Company.”
“The fire department is here already?” Color him impressed. The New Orleans FD had one seriously great response time.
“No, no, it’s a swarm of goons. They’re shoving everyone out of the way and rushing inside—hey!”Constantine shouted.
Remy winced. That shout had blasted straight in his ear.
“Hey, you can’t go in there!” Constantine yelled to someone. “There’s a fire!Fire!You need to exit—”
Fucking hell. “How many, Con?” Remy demanded.
“You and your seven buddies need to stay the hell back!” Constantine barked.
Eight of them. Coming in hot.His gaze slid to Jacqueline once more. “Okay, I can use as much help on them as I can get.” He bent and reached down for his ankle. As was his habit before a job, he’d tucked a knife into the holster there. His fingers closed around the handle.
The bookshelf door flew open even wider. An evenbiggergoon filled that doorway, bigger than the prick Remy had knocked out earlier. This goon had a gun in his hand, and he lifted it toward Remy. “You sonofabitch. No one steals from Mr. Guidry—”
Before he could fire, Remy threw his knife. It slammed into the jerk’s shoulder. The gun fell from his hand.
“I do,” Remy said simply. “I steal from him.” Then he launched forward and attacked with his fists.
Chapter Seventeen