Page 25 of The Diamond Thief
12
Jade
Iadmit I’m feeling a little suspicious.
A few minutes ago, an unexpected thump at the back of the van startled all of us.
“What was that?” Elena asked.
The driver looked back at us. “Sounds like we popped the tire.” He slowed down the van, and we pulled into a small gravel lot next to one of the Appalachian trailheads.
“Won’t take me but a minute to put on the spare,” he said. He and the armed guard got out of the front two seats to tend to the tire.
Everyone seemed calm about the situation. Elliott Gill leaned back in his swivel seat behind the driver, his fingers interlaced behind his head.
Elena’s alarm fell from her face, and she settled in her seat next to him. She kept crossing and recrossing her legs in a slender black skirt. I didn’t think her outfit looked very practical for the job, but I was starting to think that for her Elliottwasthe job. He was a much bigger catch than any Egyptian gold.
I sat in an inward-facing seat toward the back. All around me was every type of gadget, computer, weapon, and device we could possibly need for the job. The van was as much of an armored vehicle as the one we were pursuing.
It just struck me as odd that a van this technologically advanced could be struck down with something as basic as a flat tire.
But I said nothing. The driver started banging around the outside of the back door, probably untethering the spare. We would be back on our way in a few minutes.
Elliott stretched his arms. “I think I’m just going to step outside for a minute while we have the chance,” he said. He winked at Elena. “Want to come with?”
“Totally,” she said.
I liked Elena, but it was hard for me not to roll my eyes.
The two of them stepped outside, leaving me alone in the van.
And it’s been that way ever since. At least five minutes have passed since everyone left.
How long can it take to change a dang tire?
I glance out the window. Elliott and Elena head into the trees, holding hands. I wonder what they are up to. Looks like our delay might get a little longer. They are acting fast.
But I’m not one to talk. I hadn’t been with Jacob Holt more than ten minutes, barely enough time to down some whiskey, before he had me undressing.
Crazy line of work. Crazy everything. Maybe I should sell the swords and get out. Maybe I should get out without even selling the swords.
But even thinking about it for a moment makes my blood chill. I’m good at my work. And I love it. People like us don’t get caught. We sometimes fail on a job, but we’re trained to know when we will be successful and when to abort.
No, the real problem is that this often becomes a lonely profession. I have friends, like Sabrina and Elena. But they don’t do me any good when I’m in over my head, like now. I can’t involve them for fear of getting them caught in the web due to my mistake with the swords.
I’m not sure how people like Jacob Holt do this long term. I mean, obviously, things aren’t perfect for him. He hires escorts rather than finding a wife and a family.
I certainly hadn’t been able to maintain a relationship in this environment, not for more than a few months. Eventually, they ask questions, or I go on a job that I can’t explain. Nobody wants to put up with that. And that isn’t even talking about the risk. Steal from the wrong gang, or the mob, or an organized ring, and I might put someone I care about, someone totally clueless to the game, in the line of fire.
I lean my head back against the wall of the van. Maybe I can cut a deal with Jacob Holt. I don’t know. He’s pretty ruthless, but nothing I’ve seen from him or heard about him in the two years I’ve been in the Den tells me that he would kill me for what I did.
And I have no proof that he has told anyone. I can’t imagine he would advertise the fact that the chick he banged stole his one-hundred-and-forty-million-dollar heist.
Actually, for all I know, he doesn’t even know the swords are gone. Maybe he hasn’t been in the vault. All this worry and stress could actually be for nothing.
I’m glad I agreed to go on this job. I might have missed the biggest tiara find of the century over nothing.
I close my eyes. I can still hear the driver tinkering with the tire. I guess it doesn’t matter if we get too far behind the armored car. We can always catch up.
