Paradise Falls (46 page)

It fit. That was a start. It was a little tight for her tastes, molding itself to her body, but at least she was covered up.

“Why don’t you come out and let us see it?” the stylist called.

Jennifer sighed, unlocked the door, and walked out.

She didn’t expect to meet Jacob standing next to the stylist. He already had a bag in his hands.

Jennifer froze while he looked at her. His eyes swept up and down her body, settling on her face. He nodded slightly and smiled.

“You look stunning.” He turned to the stylist. “We’ll take it.”

“Um,” said Jennifer. “How much is this?”

The stylist quirked an eyebrow, as if she was unused to that question.

“Six thousand.”

Jennifer’s jaw dropped.

“I said we’ll take it,” said Jacob. He turned back to the stylist. “She also needs some shoes, and a handbag. Go get something that matches the dress, please.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back, Jennifer. You can change out of that if you like.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Jennifer stormed over to him.

“Jacob!” she snapped. “This dress costs as much as a car.”

He shrugged, but she could see a little smirk forming on his face.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t wear this. It costs more than everything I own.”

“You look beautiful in it.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You also look beautiful out of it, but it looks very, very good on you. I told you black was your color. It makes your skin look like porcelain, and your hair.”

He touched her cheek and she pulled away, but only slightly. His finger ran along the curve of her jaw and her anger over the dress just melted.

“I’m taking it off. I don’t want to mess it up.”

After very carefully removing the dress and quickly changing, Jennifer came back out, holding the dress.

The stylist was back, pushing a little cart. She handed Jennifer a purse.

“Do you like this one?”

Jennifer held it up. It was barely bigger than her hand.

“How much?”

“Jennifer,” said Jacob.

“Six thousand.”

Jennifer looked at it. Those must have been real diamonds on the clasp. She swallowed and looked at Jacob, who only grinned at her. She hid her smile by turning away, and handing the bag back.

“It goes with the dress. I’ll take it.”

The cart was loaded up with shoes. Jennifer eyed them. They were all rather insubstantial, and they all had heels. Jennifer never wore heels. They were uncomfortable, she was too tall, and she preferred sneakers, but she knew there was no point in protesting now. She found the pair with the fewest diamonds on them and scooped them up, sat down on a bench and slipped them on. She stood up, trying not to be too wobbly. Standing almost eye-to-eye with Jacob was novel. He looked down at her feet.

Jennifer sighed. She had big feet.

“Perfect,” said Jacob, as she stepped out of the shoes and slipped her own back on. “Package all this up for us, will you? We’re going down to the jewelry department.”

“Yes, sir,” said the stylist.

Jacob took her hand and just walked away. Jennifer blinked.

“Don’t we have to pay for it or something? You gave her your bag, too.”

“It’ll be taken care of. Come on.”

He pulled her into the elevator, tugging her by the arm so hard she stumbled against him and her hands came to rest on his chest. He looped his hand around her waist and her belly tightened as he pulled her close. When the doors opened, they walked out, his arm around her waist. The jewelry department, apparently, had its own floor. The diamonds everywhere caught so much light, Jennifer wished for sunglasses. Jacob walked with her to the counter, and salesman in a crisp suit walked up to them, standing behind the glass.

“Welcome! What are we looking for today?”

“A matching necklace and earrings,” said Jacob. He glanced down at her wrist. “A bracelet, while we’re at it.”

“I see,” the salesman said, turning to Jennifer. “Have anything in mind?”

“Um,” said Jennifer. She touched her wedding band. “I don’t really wear jewelry. My ears aren’t even pierced.”

“Diamonds and sapphires,” said Jacob. “Lots of diamonds.”

Jennifer shot him a look, but the salesman smiled and showed them to a display. A necklace rested in the middle. White gold studded with diamonds, with a sapphire pendant and smaller sapphires between the diamonds. There were no price tags anywhere. The salesman pulled it out of the case and held it reverently in his hands. Jacob swept Jennifer’s hair over her shoulder and took the necklace, brought it to her neck, and clasped it. His fingers danced at the nape of her neck while he closed the claps, and her chest fluttered. He pulled her hair back in place and reached his hand to tilt her chin up, to turn her to face the mirror.

It all glittered so brightly. Jacob stood behind her, looming over her, and folded his arms around her from behind, pressing her elbows to her side. Jennifer’s tiny smile spread into a flashing grin, and she turned red and had to look away.

“I think she likes it,” he said.

“Very good. About the piercings.”

“Do I have to?” said Jennifer.

“Well, it’s sold as a set,” said Jacob. “Do you have a bracelet that matches the necklace?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll take that, too.”

Jennifer sat behind a curtain and another employee pierced her ears. She yelped each time but it wasn’t that bad and she barely bled. To keep them open, Jacob bought her a simple set of diamond studs to wear home.

The stylist was waiting for her.

“There you are,” she said. “We have your ensemble picked out. Do you have someone to do your hair and makeup.”

Jennifer glanced at Jacob. “Well, I usually do it myself.”

The stylist sighed. “Come down to our salon.”

Jacob nodded. “Make sure she gets the most expensive everything.”

The stylist nodded, smirking at him.

“She makes commission on this,” Jacob whispered in her ear.

Jennifer still felt a little sick thinking about the cost. The diamond studs in her ears probably cost as much as the dress, and the other jewelry probably cost all that much more. The salon was on the third floor, and when she walked in, Jennifer thought she was in a movie. An actual stylist with a French accent walked up and introduced himself, and immediately picked up her braid.

“Why do you do this?” he demanded.

“Do what?”

“Torture your hair. Look at it. It could be gorgeous. Spectacular. Yet you do this to it.”

“Um,” said Jennifer. “I just keep it out of the way.”

“No. Come with me.”

Sighing, Jennifer followed him inside.

“It is too long. We should cut it.”

“No,” Jennifer said, firmly. Well, more like barked firmly.

“I see. Then you must at least let me trim it. Just the bangs. And some layering. You need a treatment. More volume.”

“Uh,” said Jennifer. “Okay?”

“This is good. You like your braid. You will keep your braid, but a better braid. You will have a braid like the Elsa from Frozen. You have seen this movie?”

“No,” said Jennifer.

“You should. It is very empowering. Let it go. Now sit down.”

Just about the last thing Jennifer thought she would enjoy was someone washing her hair, but it was surprisingly pleasant.

“So much hair. The auburn shade is magnificent. You will have some lowlights, yes?”

Washing it was more of a procedure than she realized. It felt like it took hours of sitting in the chair as the stylist fussed with it, before he wrapped a towel around her neck and sat her up to comb it out and dry it. It was still mostly damp when he walked her to a barber’s chair.

“I will not cut it, I promise this, but I must trim your bangs and layer.”

“Okay,” said Jennifer. She was still nervous at the prospect of even trimming it. She hadn’t cut her hair since she was twelve.

The first cut of the scissors made her wince. She closed her eyes as he worked around her face. Loose strands of hair danced down her cheeks and fell with soft sounds on the cape over her chest.

“You are keeping your eyes closed, please.”

With a sigh, Jennifer complied. The cutting went on, and she half expected him to cut her hair no matter what she said, until she heard the blow dryer come out and felt him braiding her hair, much looser than she normally did. The hot air blowing across her face made her want to sneeze.

“Now you may look.”

Her bangs were trimmed and fluffed, and her hair braided, hanging over her shoulder. It looked five times thicker than it normally did, and shone like copper. She smiled, even before she noticed Jacob standing behind her, meeting her gaze in the mirror and smiling.

“What are you thinking?”

“She’s beautiful,” said Jacob.

Jennifer felt like she was on fire. The stylist brushed away the stray hairs with a brush and ran the blow dryer over her again, and she shrugged out of the cape and stood up. Jacob immediately ran his fingers through the loose strands of hair hanging over her eyes.

“Now what?” she said.

“Now,” he said, leading her away. “We commit a few felonies.”

7.

Jennifer pulled on her mask.

“This is the part where you tell me how crazy this is,” said Jacob.

Jennifer tugged her mask in place and looked at him, and shrugged.

“Let’s face it. Breaking into an office is the least crazy thing I’ve done this week.”

He pulled his mask down over his grinning face. Faisal was parked two blocks over in their getaway car, Jacob’s Lincoln. The office was on French Street. Jennifer didn’t know the area at all, but she’d studied the map alongside Jacob for over an hour, memorizing the intersections and street names. Like almost everyone she knew, her family made shopping trips to Delaware for the tax free shopping, but she had little occasion to visit Wilmington itself. The city’s main industry was post office boxes that served as nominal headquarters for thousands of companies, huge and small, and a bustling set of county municipal buildings that housed the country’s busiest chancery court. Downtown was all lawyer’s offices.

As with most of the others, the office in question tonight was a converted Victorian, though unlike the others, James Katzenberg’s attorneys occupied the entire building, rather than one or two floors or an office suite. The houses were built when most people walked, butting right up to the sidewalk out front with a small yard out back. Once they were tiny patches of grass, now they were fenced off sections of gray, buckled asphalt with fences in various degrees of disrepair cutting them off from each other and the narrow alleyway that ran between. A stream of foul-smelling water ran down the middle of the alley, where the pavement split right down the middle and sucked down into the ground.

Jennifer had little more to do at the moment than follow. Jacob had detailed photos of the rear of the building and he and Jennifer took a walk in the downtown earlier, after leaving Saks, to plan out the attack, so to speak. Most of the people they saw that afternoon had their heads down, charging from one place to another like necktied bulls on business too important to acknowledge anyone else, though a few might have looked at Jennifer and Jacob and wondered why a couple on a date decided to wander Lawyer’s Row.

Jacob hopped the short chain link fence surrounding the back of the office, offered his hand and helped Jennifer over. They left the lock undisturbed. Jacob ducked up to the back of the house, which was surprisingly plain, just a hanging screen door over a steel one. He nudged the screen door open, waited, and pulled a lockpick kit from a pouch on his belt. He used the old fashioned kind, not a pick-gun, and it took him less than a minute to get the door open. He motioned Jennifer forward, then stopped her with the palm of his hand on her stomach.

“Alarm system. Give me a minute.”

He closed the door.

“What do we do?”

“If I cut the phone line, the system will detect and call the cops. In this part of town that would give us ten minutes, but I’d bet money James has arrangements with the locals to protect his retainers. I came prepared for that.”

Jennifer held the door open as Jacob leaned inside and tugged the bottom of the alarm system box down. He took a metallic stick from his belt, with a jack on one end, and jammed it into the box, and let the door swing closed. Then he tapped his smartphone.

“This is very illegal,” he said.

“You’re just telling me this now.”

He smirked at her and winked. The alarm box beeped and the light went from red to green and he gingerly stepped inside, checking the corners before he motioned her forward. The house should have been empty at nearly one in the morning, but there very well could have been a guard, even a dog. Jacob took a few slow steps, and Jennifer rushed to rest her hands on his back and press against him.
 

“I think we’re good,” he whispered.

“Where do you think the records will be?”

“Basement,” said Jacob.

The house was still a house, and had a sprawling kitchen, though it had the unhomelike feel of an office in a way that reminded Jennifer of the teacher’s lounge. A door secured by a padlock and a second alarm system stood next to the pantry. Jacob had no trouble with either. The alarm he simply deactivated the same way, and rather than cut the lock he unscrewed the hasp and locking plate from the wall and let it hang from the door. He motioned for Jennifer to be still and took a few steps down, peering in the dark before he flicked on his flashlight and motioned her forward.

He was already in the basement. The ceiling was low, and he had to tip his head forward. The room was filled with bulky, fireproof file cabinets- essentially big safes with drawers. There were at least ten, lining the wall on either side. Jacob rapped on one with his knuckles.

“The steel on these is half an inch thick,” he sighed, “and the locks are keyed.”

“At least they’re alphabetized,” said Jennifer.

Jacob snorted, and walked his way down. He checked the list of companies he had on his phone and found the first cabinet.

“We’re lucky. These are to protect from fire, not theft, but they still have locks. It’ll take me all night to guess the right four numbers. We don’t have that much time.”