“Are you crazy? This is what Zendaris wants me to do? Steal some jewels?”
He ignored her questions and began giving her instructions for the robbery. He stopped after every instruction and asked her if she understood. She’d had him repeat the first few directions as the fog slowly cleared from her mind.
Zendaris was serious. He wanted her to rob a store. She knew the consequences if she didn’t do it. Was this it? Was this all he’d ask of her?
She might get killed in the attempt, and if she were arrested she would never reveal her motivation. She understood what that would mean for Bobby.
“You got all that?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t fail.”
“I don’t plan on it.”
She cleared out her own purse and dumped the contents into the big designer bag that was stuffed in the duffel. She pulled the blond wig over her head and clapped the huge sunglasses on her face.
While sitting on the ground with her back against the Dumpster, Deb slipped a pair of high heels onto her feet. Zendaris had told her to dress professionally. The towering heels must’ve been an afterthought and were more suited to a hooker than the low heels she’d kicked off, but they added to her disguise.
Peering into the mirror Zendaris had thoughtfully provided, she shoved the dark strands of her hair beneath the wig and applied red lipstick.
She crammed the black ski mask into the purse as well, and then tucked the loaded .45 inside—not that she planned on shooting anyone unless Zendaris showed up in the jewelry store.
She pushed to her feet and dropped the duffel bag along with her own empty purse into the Dumpster. She’d put her shoes and everything else from her purse into the designer bag. She tightened the belt of her wool coat and emerged from the alley a new woman.
Maybe blondes did have more fun. A few men cast assessing glances her way as she wobbled down the sidewalk in her high heels.
She passed by the jewelry store once and waited until the lone customer had left. Then she approached the door and stabbed the buzzer. They must’ve liked what they saw because the door clicked and she pushed through with butterflies taking flight in her belly.
Two clerks. Deb smiled. In her affected Southern accent, she said, “Ahm lookin’ for a diamond bracelet?”
One of the clerks, probably a jeweler, looked up from poking at something on a glass table. The magnifying contraption he wore on his head enlarged his eye and Deb felt as if he were staring right through her disguise.
He went back to his work, and the female clerk crossed the room to a velvet-lined case. “We have some beautiful bracelets over here.”
“Perfect.”
While the clerk bent over the case to unlock it, Deb stepped back and locked the door to the shop, flipping the sign to Closed. She withdrew the gun from her purse as she yanked on the cord to the blinds.
“Excuse me?” The noises had caught the attention of the jeweler and he looked up with his hideously magnified eye.
Before turning around, Deb pulled the ski mask over her head, blond hair and everything, and swung the gun toward him. “Ahm sorry, sir, ahm goin’ to have to ask you to move away from the counter.”
He dropped his hand from the top of the counter and Deb aimed the gun at his head. “Please don’t.”
The clerk stood with her mouth open, holding a tray of bracelets in front of her.
“We’ll start with those.”
While the jeweler kneeled in the middle of the store with his hands behind his head, Deb had the clerk scurrying around the store dumping trays of jewels into her big bag.
Deb apologized repeatedly, but she knew these people would be traumatized. If she could make it up to them one day, she would.
Zendaris never told her how much to steal, so with the bag bulging and half the cases empty, Deb held up her hand. “That’s enough. Both of you in the back room. Ahm not goin’ to hurt y’all.”
She herded them into the back office, which Zendaris had known about. She’d already collected their cell phones, and now she ripped the desk phone out of the wall and smashed it.
“Ahm goin’ to lock you in here now, but you should be able to get out soon.”
She slammed the door shut and dragged a chair over to wedge it beneath the doorknob. That should hold them until she got away. If she got away.
She pulled the ski mask from her head, shook out her blond hair and replaced her sunglasses. Hoisting the bag with the loot over her shoulder, she slipped from the store, keeping it locked behind her.
Her heels clicked down the sidewalk as she clutched a key chain in her hand and made for the corner. She let out a breath when she saw a blue compact car parked at a meter.
The remote Zendaris had included in the duffel unlocked the car and she slipped inside, her heart pounding unsteadily. She adjusted the rearview mirror and brushed the blond locks from her sweaty brow.
Deb pulled away from the curb. Nice and easy. No hurry. No cops were on her tail. No sirens wailed in her wake.
What did Zendaris want her to do with the jewelry? He didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. He just wanted her—her total submission. He had that. As long as he had Bobby.
But when she got out of this mess, Zendaris would pay. Unless she wound up dead or in jail.
Following the instructions to a T, she drove across the bridge to Cambridge and pulled into the parking lot of a hotel. She hadn’t noticed any cops following her, although she’d seen a couple of possible tails and had lost them.
Maybe Zendaris’s guys making sure she got to her destination.
She tilted the mirror down and fluffed up the wig. Then she wiped the lipstick from her mouth with a tissue. Not her color.
Checking in was a breeze with her fake ID and the cash Zendaris had provided.
She hitched the bag stuffed with jewels over her shoulder and made a beeline for the elevator. Once inside, she slumped against the wall and closed her eyes.
What did he have planned for her next? She’d see the fear in that poor jewelry store clerk’s eyes before she fell asleep tonight.
When the elevator jostled to a stop on her floor, Deb stepped through the doors and wandered down the hallway looking for her room. A couple passed her, arguing on their way to the elevator, and a maid emerged from one of the rooms.
Deb turned a corner and located her room number. She slid the key card in and out. Red lights blinked at her. She tried again and grasped the handle, bracing her hip against the heavy door.
A soft footfall sounded behind her on the dense carpet. She turned her head to the side. But she was too late.
Something
