you in Montecito for the gig next week. If you decide to do it, that is.”
She set the salad bowl down hard on the bar. “You know I have to do it, John, but it galls me.”
“Let’s get it over with and then Deacon will leave us alone.”
She wanted to believe that. She tried to get herself into the brisk, businesslike mindset that helped her quell her nerves before she plunged into a dangerous job. “Tell me the details. I was so annoyed yesterday I didn’t listen very closely.”
“It’s a Mondrian. About a foot and a half square. Worth ten mil. Some rich businessman is giving it on permanent loan to the Santa Barbara Art Museum. It will be on display for one night only, that’s next Friday night, a week from tomorrow, at the bloke’s house in Montecito. There’s a fundraiser that night. Should be a couple of hundred people. We can get in, scope out the security, then come back later and lift the painting. Delivery is by Saturday at noon.”
Eve imagined the chain of events. They’d handled worse situations on shorter notice. “It sounds straightforward enough. Can we find a hole in the security with that little prep time?”
“We’ll have to. It has to be that night. Apparently, the painting is stored in a vault until then, and the next day, it will be transported to the museum. We don’t have time to pull off an in-transit switch or anything like that.”
John helped himself to more coffee. He seemed better with the caffeine in his system, and he was like a magician when it came to finding weaknesses in even the tightest security system. With him by her side, they could do this.
“Fine. I’ll think about how to gain access to the party. Once we’re there, we’ll have to get creative.”
“I’ll get to Montecito a few days early and see how much intel I can gather. You meet me there Friday and we’ll do this thing.”
“This is not exactly how I’d pictured spending my time when I quit the business, you know.”
“But don’t you miss it, even a little? Did you know I haven’t worked since you left? No one has the same finesse as you, Evie darling.”
Eve felt a little guilty for leaving her friend in the lurch, but she’d been content to settle into a life where she didn’t have to always look over her shoulder. “You’ll find someone even better than me. Or you could always find something else to do. Try going straight like me.”
“Me? I’m a lifer, Evie. I thought you were, too. Honestly, what are you doing in this place?” John made a vague gesture with his hands, indicating the general vicinity. She sighed. He didn’t understand.
“I’ll miss the excitement, maybe, for a little while. But Deacon coming after me, making Paris too hot, was a blessing in disguise. Now that I’m away, I feel like I can start my life over, do it better this time. Maybe do something to help people instead of only helping myself.” She smiled at his mock-horrified expression. “This is paradise, John. Fresh air, farmers markets, friendly people. I think I’m going to be happy here.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Then my idea of paradise is very different from yours, darling. How about the high-roller suite in Monte Carlo, never having to lift a finger to work again?”
“You know I’m a terrible gambler. You go, have your fun. I’m done.”
“We’ll see,” John said.
***
Eve took John for a walk on the beach the next morning before he was to leave Chelsea. The sun shone as bright as a ten-carat diamond, warming the sand beneath their feet. The few humans on that stretch of sand were outnumbered by seagulls twenty to one.
Her shoulders lost some of their tension as she walked with her old friend. Over the past two days, they’d eaten and drunk and reminisced and done some planning for what she vowed would be her absolute final job the following week. They were both silent on this outing, and she enjoyed the feel of sand between her toes, the fresh ocean breeze that came
She set the salad bowl down hard on the bar. “You know I have to do it, John, but it galls me.”
“Let’s get it over with and then Deacon will leave us alone.”
She wanted to believe that. She tried to get herself into the brisk, businesslike mindset that helped her quell her nerves before she plunged into a dangerous job. “Tell me the details. I was so annoyed yesterday I didn’t listen very closely.”
“It’s a Mondrian. About a foot and a half square. Worth ten mil. Some rich businessman is giving it on permanent loan to the Santa Barbara Art Museum. It will be on display for one night only, that’s next Friday night, a week from tomorrow, at the bloke’s house in Montecito. There’s a fundraiser that night. Should be a couple of hundred people. We can get in, scope out the security, then come back later and lift the painting. Delivery is by Saturday at noon.”
Eve imagined the chain of events. They’d handled worse situations on shorter notice. “It sounds straightforward enough. Can we find a hole in the security with that little prep time?”
“We’ll have to. It has to be that night. Apparently, the painting is stored in a vault until then, and the next day, it will be transported to the museum. We don’t have time to pull off an in-transit switch or anything like that.”
John helped himself to more coffee. He seemed better with the caffeine in his system, and he was like a magician when it came to finding weaknesses in even the tightest security system. With him by her side, they could do this.
“Fine. I’ll think about how to gain access to the party. Once we’re there, we’ll have to get creative.”
“I’ll get to Montecito a few days early and see how much intel I can gather. You meet me there Friday and we’ll do this thing.”
“This is not exactly how I’d pictured spending my time when I quit the business, you know.”
“But don’t you miss it, even a little? Did you know I haven’t worked since you left? No one has the same finesse as you, Evie darling.”
Eve felt a little guilty for leaving her friend in the lurch, but she’d been content to settle into a life where she didn’t have to always look over her shoulder. “You’ll find someone even better than me. Or you could always find something else to do. Try going straight like me.”
“Me? I’m a lifer, Evie. I thought you were, too. Honestly, what are you doing in this place?” John made a vague gesture with his hands, indicating the general vicinity. She sighed. He didn’t understand.
“I’ll miss the excitement, maybe, for a little while. But Deacon coming after me, making Paris too hot, was a blessing in disguise. Now that I’m away, I feel like I can start my life over, do it better this time. Maybe do something to help people instead of only helping myself.” She smiled at his mock-horrified expression. “This is paradise, John. Fresh air, farmers markets, friendly people. I think I’m going to be happy here.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Then my idea of paradise is very different from yours, darling. How about the high-roller suite in Monte Carlo, never having to lift a finger to work again?”
“You know I’m a terrible gambler. You go, have your fun. I’m done.”
“We’ll see,” John said.
***
Eve took John for a walk on the beach the next morning before he was to leave Chelsea. The sun shone as bright as a ten-carat diamond, warming the sand beneath their feet. The few humans on that stretch of sand were outnumbered by seagulls twenty to one.
Her shoulders lost some of their tension as she walked with her old friend. Over the past two days, they’d eaten and drunk and reminisced and done some planning for what she vowed would be her absolute final job the following week. They were both silent on this outing, and she enjoyed the feel of sand between her toes, the fresh ocean breeze that came
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