Page 3 of Abra's Acquisition
We file out of the hospital and hop on our bikes. One by one, we roll out of the parking lot and make the forty-minute drive back to New Orleans. Usually, a bike ride relaxes me, but not tonight. Tonight, the thought of Erickson punishing Rey for my crime consumes me. I never considered that he’d suspect her of helping me.
Once we’re at the clubhouse, we immediately head for Church. The Old Ladies watch us with confusion as grim-facedHex passes by Cleo and Delphine without a word or a glance. He’s pissed.
I take my seat to the left of Hex while Dixie sits on his right. Hex doesn’t wait for everyone to be seated before banging the gavel to start.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demands, turning to me. Hex doesn’t hide his anger as I glance around at everyone’s expression. They all look more confused than angry, but I’m certain that will change shortly. I linger on Dixie for several moments longer because it wasn’t too long ago that Dixie was in my spot. He had a history that he hadn’t shared with the club. I’m in the same boat. My personal guilt is one reason I was able to forgive Dixie for keeping his secrets.
“You all know that before I joined the Demon Dawgs, I was an illusionist who performed under the name Lucifer’s Heir. What I didn’t tell you is how I made my way to the stage. My father was a thief. He picked pockets and shoplifted. When he was younger, he was adept enough to keep us from starving and to keep a roof over our heads occasionally. However, dealing with changing circumstances filled my childhood. Whenever we had a place to live, it was always just a step up from homelessness. By the time I was five, I was an expert at begging for change. I became an expert at picking pockets by the time I was seven years old. At ten, I graduated to shoplifting as well as breaking and entering. I learned how to recognize valuable items and know how much I could get at a pawn shop.”
“No shit?!” Zip gushes. “Damn, I’m impressed. What’s the most expensive thing you've ever stolen? Or the biggest?”
Hex frowns at our Road Captain, but says nothing. He turns to me and nods to continue.
“I once stole a diamond ring worth $18K and a painting that was bigger than me. Of course, I was only twelve at the time and hadn’t hit my growth spurt,” I tell Zip, who grins at me. “My dadand I were still hanging out together at the time. He came up with the idea of putting on a magic show to distract the tourists while I worked the crowd and picked their pockets. We made a pretty good amount of money doing that. One day, he got the idea to have me perform the magic show. The crowd was small that day, so he thought I might be able to draw in more. I did. I drew a huge crowd who proceeded to toss money at me. We made enough that we started making plans to get an apartment.”
“Was that the beginning of your career?” Dixie asks. I look around the table and see the enthralled expressions on everyone’s face—even Hex’s.
“Not exactly. My dad had me perform while he took over the pickpocketing. Unfortunately, one day, he picked the pocket of a member of the Cartel. I was busy performing and didn’t see the man drag my father into an alley and gut him. My dad bled out before I found him. I was sixteen. Since I was big for my age, I managed to stay one step ahead of Child Services. I stayed on the streets. My luck changed the day I met Cicero. He had a home and a family, but he spent much of his time hanging out with me. His parents were academics who often forgot they had a son. We developed a friendship. He helped me when he could, and he’s the one who suggested I go on the stage with my act. He helped me develop my act and used his dad’s credit card to rent a theater and advertise the show. He’s the reason I became a star.”
“What does this have to do with stealing something from Erickson?” Hex demands.
“I’m getting to it. I promise. Although I was making a good living as a performer, I still occasionally engaged in theft. I’d identify a wealthy person who irked me, and I’d take some of their valuables. Sometimes, I’d just dip my hand into their pocket. Other times, I’d do research on them and if they had something interesting to steal, I’d plan the heist and take what I wanted.”
“How did you target someone?” Lake asks.
“It depends. I study people. Suppose I were dining out and saw a wealthy individual mistreating the waitstaff. I’d follow the person to the restroom and relieve them of their wallet. It was amusing to watch them get embarrassed because they couldn’t pay. Once I had their wallet, I’d do some research on them. If someone is rude to those working to survive, then odds are they aren’t nice to others. If I found them lacking in human decency, I figured out what they prized the most, and I’d steal it. Most of the time, it was art or jewelry, but once I stole a racehorse that the owner was abusing. The horse is now living a grand life on a ranch in Kentucky.”
“So, does that mean you targeted Erickson? I’m guessing this is Blake Erickson, the real estate mogul?” Hex asks.
“I’ve targeted him in the past, but this time, I was doing a favor for a friend.”
“What favor and what friend?”
“It was for Cicero. I would have done it for him regardless, but he told me Erickson had stolen the item he wanted me to steal. I planned on taking the item when we got back from Ireland, but then those assholes tried to grab Olivia,” I say, glancing at Lake. “So, I postponed the heist until the following night. While there, Blake had a guest. It was Rey. Blake left Rey in the room by herself. I grabbed the item and made my exit. She didn’t know I was there. I didn’t think Erickson would suspect her of helping me.”
“Obviously,” Hex says dryly. “What did you take?”
“It was a Harlequin figurine. The artistry was exquisite. I would have liked to keep the piece for myself, but Cicero wanted it as part of his research.”
“Research?” Zip asks, intrigued.
“Cicero is looking for a lost treasure, although he won’t admit it. He claims he’s researching a noble family that fled fromFrance during the Revolution. They came here and built a home in what is now the French Quarter. Cicero believes that they brought a great treasure with them and hid it on their property. The figurine I stole offers a clue to the location of the treasure.”
“Do you think that’s why Erickson wants the figurine back?”
I nod. “I think Erickson is trying to purchase the property where the treasure resides. At least that’s what I got from the conversation between him and Rey before I took the piece. I told Cicero about what Erickson was doing. He wasn’t happy, but I don’t think he was surprised.”
“Can you get the figurine back?” Lake asks.
“You want to barter it for Rey? I can call Cicero and see if I can get it from him.”
“How do we know Erickson will hold up his end of the deal?” Zip asks. “He kidnapped her. Won’t he be afraid she’ll go to the cops? He has to know her brothers are cops. They’ll believe her over him.”
“Good point,” Hex says. “I don’t want to give Erickson what he wants. We need to find another way to gain Rey’s freedom and then protect her.”
CHAPTER FOUR: REY
This is all wrong. I haven’t yet opened my eyes, but I know I’m not in my bedroom. The scent is off. Memories of my car breaking down and two men pretending to come to my aid flash in my mind. They weren’t there to help; they were there to kidnap me. Shit. Where did they take me? An old garage. Is that where I am? But no, I don’t smell grease and oil. I smell lavender and lemons. Slowly, I pry open my eyes and squint against the light coming through the window. It’s daytime. I’m lying on an antique bed covered in a thick comforter.
