Page 25

Back in the hallway, she peered through one of the glass panels next to the door.

The street was quiet. With no other useful assignment, she began checking out the artwork more closely, grimacing at a particularly wretched piece on the wall just outside the kitchen.

If Bozo the Clown took up painting and decided to do a self-portrait, this was what?—

Tap , tap, tap, tap.

She froze. This time, the noise didn’t sound like ice dropping. It was too fast, more like a rattle. So what was it? The ghost of that poor dog Psycho murdered?

Gina padded into the kitchen, darting her eyes in every direction.

She clicked on her penlight, bathing the room in an eerie red glow.

Nothing had changed. The kitchen was still empty, and she was positive the sound was coming from the freezer.

Running her fingers along the rubber gaskets of the stainless-steel side-by-side doors, she searched for trip wires.

Next , she checked the back of the unit.

The unplugged unit. So much for the ice theory.

If she were sensible and smart, she’d beat feet.

Something deep inside, something only an experienced burglar would understand, drove her onward.

This was a puzzle to be solved, and her gut told her something interesting lay behind the freezer door.

Like on that game show, Let’s Make A Deal .

She had to know what was behind Door #1.

She no sooner could have stopped now than she could have stopped breathing.

She placed a gloved hand on the left side door and closed her eyes. Nothing . No vibrations. Slowly , she tugged on the handle and cracked the door. Shivers of anticipation crept up her spine.

Don’t be stupid. Leave . Now .

“ Can’t help it,” she whispered.

After opening the door all the way, she shined her light inside and her jaw dropped. If she were standing in front of a mirror, her eyes would be bigger than chocolate chip cookies.

Staring back at her were five shelves jammed with cash, each piled high from front to back, mostly with hundred-dollar bills.

She chewed on her lower lip. This was more than enough to get Marilyn and her kids to the west coast. All this cash was hers for the taking.

It would be so easy. Minus the little part about the FBI agent in the other room.

If she stole cash, Psycho would know someone had broken in, and Jack’s bug would be rendered worthless, and…

Federal obstruction charges here we come.

What if she just grabbed a few stacks from the back, say, one from each shelf? If those really were all hundreds, five stacks would be around five thousand dollars. Psycho would never know.

Neither would Jack .

She reached into the freezer and took a stack from the front of one shelf. Then she reached to the rear of the shelf and pulled another stack forward to make it look as if nothing was missing. She stared at the cash, biting harder on her lower lip.

Leaving this money behind sat about as well as turning away a box of Godiva chocolates, but she’d made a deal.

No more rips until Jack completed his investigation.

The idea of breaking her word to him bothered her more than she expected.

More importantly, she could never risk getting her friends in more trouble than they were already in.

They’d just have to pray the Center raised enough cash for Marilyn at the fundraiser.

Sighing , she started to put the stack of cash back on the shelf.

That’s when she heard it. A rattle followed by a hiss.

Something darted from behind the stacks of cash, knocking the light from her hand.

She gasped, letting go of the money and jumping back.

Her hip slammed against the kitchen table.

She might be a city girl, but she’d watched enough episodes of Animal Planet to have a complete—albeit late —understanding of what that rattling sound was.

Rattlesnakes .

Behind her, a chair toppled to the floor, clattering loudly. She lost her balance and fell. Her head whacked against the edge of the table as she went down. Despite the pain shooting through her skull, she crab-walked backward on the floor.

The penlight had rolled beneath the table, yet still illuminated the inside of the freezer where three coiled rattlesnakes each protected their own shelf of cash.

Holy —! That psychotic lunatic had booby-trapped his cash with pit vipers. What if the one that had lunged for her was slithering on the tile floor? Getting closer.

She scrambled off the floor and vaulted onto the counter. Her heart raced, and she sucked in deep breaths. Somehow , she had to retrieve her penlight and return the room to its original state, but how could she be sure the floor wasn’t covered in writhing, spitting, biting snakes?

“ Gina !” Jack rushed into the kitchen. She could just make out his silvery gray eyes glaring at her. “ What happened?”

“ Stop !” She held up her hand. “ Don’t come in here!”

“ Why not?” A distinct note of anger laced his question.

“ Rattlesnakes ,” she whispered, as if saying the word in normal speaking volume mattered at this point. “ There are rattlesnakes in the freezer. One of them tried to bite me, and I don’t know if it got out.”

“ Are you kidding ?”

Adamantly , she shook her head and pointed to the freezer. “ Do I look like I’m kidding?”

A light clicked on— Jack’s flashlight.

“ Stay there.” Leading with the flashlight, he edged into the room, swinging the beam back and forth across the floor and giving the open freezer door a wide berth.

“ Copy that.” She prayed she didn’t sound half as panicked as she really was.

“ Are you guys okay?” Margo’s voice came through Gina’s earpiece. “ Did I hear you correctly? Did you say ‘rattlesnakes?’”

“ Everything’s fine,” Gina whispered, rolling her eyes at the ridiculous lie she’d just told.

After clearing the floor, Jack shined his penlight into the freezer. A split second before he slammed it shut, he tensed.

When he faced her, she gulped. Every sculpted ridge and muscle in his face had gone as hard as a diamond. Except for the flames shooting from his eyes. Those were hot enough to melt a diamond. “ Did you take any?”

“ No !” Her voice and her body trembled. “ It’s not what you think. I heard a noise in the freezer, and I was curious. I opened the door and?—”

“ Curious , my ass. We’re getting out of here,” he bit out through his clenched jaw.

“ Now .” After righting and repositioning the chair that had fallen over, he strode from the kitchen, leaving a trail of pissed-off vibe in his wake so potent she could feel it on her skin and taste it on her tongue.

Her next breath left her lungs in a whoosh . When they got back to her apartment, she was in for a tongue lashing of cosmic proportions.

Still not convinced there wasn’t a pit viper patrolling the floor, she scanned the tile thoroughly before easing off the counter.

Jack waited for her by the front door. Virtual smoke shot from his ears. “ Margo , I’m on my way out.” Throwing her one last venomous glare, he opened the door and closed it behind him.

She locked the deadbolt, then reached for her penlight, which wasn’t on her belt where it should have been. Crap . In all the chaos she’d left it on the kitchen floor.

At the entrance to the kitchen, she hesitated before inching her way inside.

With every step, she scoured the floor for snakes.

She reached under the table for her penlight, snatching it up, then spinning to sweep the light back and forth across the floor.

The beam hit on something and she sucked in a breath.

Wedged beneath the freezer, was a bundle of cash—the one that had slipped from her hand when the snake attacked.

In her state of panic, she must have nudged the bundle partially under the unit with her foot.

In the near darkness, Jack hadn’t seen it.

“ Oh shit . ” Double shit, actually. No , make that triple shit.

She’d made the decision to honor her agreement and not take any of the cash.

Now what was she supposed to do? If she took the bundle on the floor, Jack would kill her first, then throw her body in jail for breaking their deal.

Opening that freezer door again… not happening . Jail would be preferable.

Taking a deep breath, she scooped up the stack of bills and unzipped the top of her suit just enough to stuff it inside. She yanked the zipper back up, then took one final look around, verifying all was in its place before heading to the front door.

With shaking fingers, she unhooked the alligator clips from the control box, reset the alarm, and reinstalled the cover.

After stowing the kit back in the pouch on her belt she went up the stairs.

At the door to the master bedroom, she hunkered low to the floor so as not to activate the motion sensor.

Her belly knotted with enough anxiety to keep a psychiatrist busy for at least a year. She opened the sliding glass door, stepped out, and pulled it shut behind her. After resetting the lock, she retrieved her magnetic strip from the door sensors and shoved it into the pouch on her belt.

“ On my way down.”

“ Copy that.” Jack still sounded angry. “ We’re in place ready to pick you up.”

She climbed over the metal railing and grasped the knotted rope, lowering herself down. When her feet hit the grass, she wanted to weep for joy. That was, without a doubt, the freakiest job she’d ever pulled.

With a strong tug on the rope, her hook release worked like a charm and the rope fell to the ground. She coiled it around her shoulder and hauled ass to the driveway, carefully avoiding the motion sensor beam.