Smash & Grab (22 page)

“No. What people put in their boxes is considered private.”

“But if you suspect someone of having something bad in them? Like…I don't know…a murder weapon or something.”

“A warrant to search it can be issued,” Brynn says. “But it's not something that happens all that often.
I've
certainly never had to open one for the police. It's fun to wonder what people put in them, though.” She laughs. “One of our managers said that this older lady came in once and asked if she could store her dead dog in hers. She'd had him stuffed and wanted to keep him safe. Weird, right?” I nod. Right now the only thing I wonder is what Stephanie's storing for Harrison. It's important, whatever it is—I can feel it. This is the thing we've been looking for. Just beyond that door. I'm so close.
So
close.

The light outside Stephanie's room goes on, and we let her out and reverse the process we used to get down here, relocking the vault door. “Tonight, remind me to have you come down to watch us set the timer. At the end of every night we set the vault door to stay locked until the morning. This means that even if someone with the codes tried to open the vault, they couldn't until the appropriate hour. Same for weekends, so, basically, the vault is impregnable even by bank employees when the bank isn't open,” Brynn says.

We climb back up the stairwell, Brynn and Clint leading the way, followed by Stephanie and me. Frantically, I try to think of something to say, anything that might help me wheedle out some clue about what's in the box. I have nothing. Think, Lex,
think!

All at once it's too late. She's leaving the bank, her phone up to her ear. I ask to go use the bathroom and run to get my purse. Once I'm safely locked inside the handicapped stall at the back of the bathroom, I text Quinn, briefly explaining what I saw.

Check Harrison's phone convos from today.

I pace the stall and wait for him to reply.

Got something. Meeting you for lunch.

I nearly cheer and then type:

Fine. Anywhere but the taco truck.

I can picture Quinn reading this and laughing. It makes me laugh just thinking about it. Our little mission here isn't dead after all.

We settle on sushi
at this little out-of-the-way restaurant over a block from the bank, two blocks away from the taco truck and Christian.

“So?” I slide into the booth and wait for Quinn to spill the details about what the bug in Harrison's office picked up.

“So he talked with someone named Stephanie twice today. Actually, he talked to her a couple of times over the past twenty-four hours, but the calls were so short and vague they didn't set off any bells. He had her on speaker. Here. I typed out the conversation. Not much to go on, until you get to the second page.”

I flip through. At first it's just:

Harrison: We should meet soon.

Stephanie: We should. But I'm busy with finals. Can it wait?

Harrison: Come on. Just a quick dinner. Tonight? That restaurant on Sunset you like? I can pick you up at seven. Two hours. I need to see you.

Stephanie: (
giggles
) Okay, sure.

Harrison: I have something of yours.

Stephanie: Really?

Harrison: Well, it isn't yours yet, but it will be.

I look at Quinn and make a gagging noise. I skim until I reach the second page.

Harrison: I want it done. It's risky. Waiting.

Stephanie: Will you go with me?

Harrison: That's not a good idea.

Stephanie: But I'm nervous. What if I mess up?

Harrison: You'll be fine. I have faith in you. Let's talk about this face to face, okay? That way I can help make you feel better about things.

Stephanie: You're sure I have to go in?

Harrison: Yes. We can talk about the process more in person.

Stephanie: Fine, but I want something major in return. You can afford it now, can't you?

Harrison: (
cuts her off
) Sure, sure, anything you want. Look, I gotta go. Take care, Ms. Crawford.

Stephanie: (
giggles
) Yeah, you too…
Mr.
Harrison.

“So he's given her some sort of financial statements. That's what I'm thinking. Probably offshore-account information. We can't know for sure, but I'd bet you anything that's what she put into the safe-deposit box. If we can find a way in, we might have all we need to expose him to the police…or…” Quinn messes with the empty teacup in front of him, turns it end over end.

“Or?”

“Well, I was just thinking. About what you said about robbing the bank before? If we manage to get the account information…”

“Are you asking me if we should transfer whatever we find in his accounts to us?” I ask.

“Well, hopefully, he has several accounts, so not exactly. I'm saying let's transfer some and then turn the rest in to the FBI. I have a feeling
that
haul could be worth our while.” My brother, usually the cautious one in our family, who does the BAMs only because I do, wants to break into a safe-deposit box and take Harrison's money. I'm not exactly proud, but then in a weird way I am. He would've been such an uptight dude if I hadn't come along. Taking money that's already been stolen. The idea has a certain sense of poetry to it. And it feels less wrong than stealing directly from the vault. Is stealing really stealing if you're taking the money from a criminal?

“I think it's a great idea except for one thing, big brother. How are we going to break into the box without getting caught? This isn't like sneaking into Harrison's office. I watched the whole process this morning. It's way elaborate. You need two sets of keys—one of which stays with the person renting out the box. And there are cameras everywhere.”

The waitress comes and we order. A spicy tuna roll for me, tempura vegetables for Quinn.

“I've been turning it over in my head, all the way here. And on our own, there's no way we can manage. We don't have the expertise. It would take a professional bank robber to do it right.”

“You mean Christian. The Romero Robbers.” The scope of what he's trying to tell me finally becomes clear.

“I don't have all the details straight yet, but what if we used what you have on him to blackmail him into getting what's in the box? You said yourself that they're already planning on robbing LL National. We just need him to get what we need while he's in there. It's just paperwork. As long as we don't tell him what kind, what does he care?”

This makes perfect sense; in fact, it's sort of brilliant. We could nail Harrison and secure enough money so we won't have to worry about the future. A heist within a heist. All I have to do is blackmail Christian the way he tried to blackmail me. It's not like he doesn't get something out of it. His team still gets the money they planned to take in the first place.

“So you really think we should do this?” I ask.

He presses his lips together and nods.

“But there's only one issue. If I come right out and tell him what we're planning, he might try to figure out a way to double-cross us.”

Right now I'm pretty sure Christian sees me as a girl he can manipulate. What if we use that to our advantage? The more I work it out, the more I like it. I meet with Christian and pretend to cooperate: give him the security information his crew needs, tempt him with the idea that I can help them get an even bigger take. I could flirt some more, get closer to him so I can find out exactly when he's planning on hitting the bank…and then find a way to take the box. Everyone will just assume the missing stuff in Stephanie's safe-deposit box was part of the heist. The Romero Robbers get blamed and we walk away. Send the evidence we gather to the FBI anonymously and keep enough money to set ourselves up. It could work. It
will
work.

The parking lot closest
to the old zoo is jammed, so I have to park Gabriel's car in the lot near the merry-go-round. There's the typical Saturday crowd of families. I watch the kids line up beneath the red-and-white-striped roof of the carousel. The music is bright and cheerful and nerve-jangling. I'm too on edge for this kind of chaos—ever since Benny and I left the tunnel and he told me what Soldado's men were saying.

“Soldado's gonna show up during the job with his Florencia Heights boys. They plan to take the money and then collapse the tunnel. We'll be trapped inside the vault until the bank employees come in and unlock it the next morning.” Benny was bug-eyed as he told me.

“He's going to sacrifice us to the police? Man, seriously? That doesn't make any sense. We could just rat him out. Make a deal with the cops.” But then I remembered Psycho standing behind Maria with his gun.

“How could he do that?” Benny was still trying to wrap his mind around it. “I know the gang comes first, but he's always looked out for us. He's like family. I mean, he's with my sister….”

“The Eme probably wanted it done. We never committed to Florencia. The way they see it, they don't owe us a thing.”

It still hurts to think about it. We do this job and we go to jail. We don't do this job, people we love get killed. I can't see a way out no matter how hard I try. My heart's been racing in my chest the past three days.

I've been looking forward to and dreading this meeting with Lexi. Now that I know what Soldado's planning, I don't want to do anything to help the job along. But if I don't bring him the intel I promised, he'll know something's up and I'll lose any chance I have to get us out of the job somehow.

I trudge up the path that leads to the old animal cages, hands in my pockets, deep in thought. My stomach feels full of acid, burning and turning in my gut.

“Christian.”

She's here. Early. We weren't supposed to meet until five. She comes toward me, all traces of Angela gone, gold hair blowing back, away from her sun-flushed face, a leather tote bag hanging from one shoulder. She's in shorts and a T-shirt. She looks younger now that she's Lexi again. Maybe it's that she barely has any makeup on, or the way her hair is loose around her shoulders. Maybe it's the way she hesitates as she gets closer, eyeing me.

“Lexi.” I start to smile on reflex. She's beautiful.

She stops a few feet from me. “So I'm here. And I have the items you wanted.” She pats her tote.

I look around to see if anyone's watching us. There are dozens of families milling around, but all of them seem preoccupied with each other. There's no sign of Soldado's boys. I picked Griffith Park precisely for this reason. This isn't a place those dudes would hang out. Still…

“Let's talk by the animal cages,” I say. “Up there.”

We walk silently toward the picnic area that marks the start of the zoo. The tables are tucked into a graffiti-covered stone exhibit that doesn't have any bars. A long time ago lions probably stalked this place. I can almost imagine them here, pacing the enclosure, roaring deep. Intimidating zoo visitors. I wish I could channel their strength and power. I'm gonna need it in the next couple of weeks.

I lean against the wall, arms over my chest, muscles flexing, trying to make myself big and imposing. I still have to play the game even if I don't want to. “Let's have it, then.”

She stares at me, considering. Sighs. “Fine. But first we need to talk about something.”

“Talk about what?” I ask, surprised.

“I know who you are.” She sits on one of the picnic tables and leans back on her arms, all casual and calm, like she's not scared.

I narrow my eyes. “Really?”

“You're one of the Romero Robbers.”

Smart girl. She waits, her eyes never leaving mine. I know she's wondering if I'll deny it.

“What makes you think so?” I ask instead.

“Don't play dumb. You ran into me that day at the Bank of America. I know it was you.”

“I thought those guys wore masks. How can you be so sure?”

“Your eyes. That, combined with the medal you wanted me to get, and this information you asked me for. Doesn't take a genius, now, does it?”

I'm blown away. She thinks I'm a bank robber, and yet here she is, meeting me and telling me she's got it all figured out.

“Let's say that were true. Why show up here today? If I'm a bank robber, I'm probably dangerous, right?” I take a step toward her.

“You won't hurt me,” she says with complete confidence.

How can she be so sure? She barely knows me. It catches me off guard the way she sees right through me. Suddenly, I don't have one clever thing to say.

“You should know that I didn't come alone, but even if I had, I wouldn't be scared of you.” She points up at Bee Rock. I can't see anything, just the fence surrounding the top. But then a guy's head pops up, and then another and another, just enough so I know she's not bluffing. And I'm not even mad. If anything, it makes me like her more.

“I asked them to hang back so we could talk,” Lexi says. “Look. I'm going to give you what you want. We aren't here to stop you or turn you in or anything.”

“Because you know if you do, I send those pictures I have of you to your bank buddy.”

She makes a face. “He's not my bank buddy, and no. Not because of that. I think if you look at your phone's photo album, you'll see that the pictures are gone.”

She found a way to erase the pictures? How in the—? I double-check and sure enough…She's smug, watching me. I can see her smirking out of the corner of my eye, and, man, I can't help being impressed. When did she get my phone?

“Well, that'd be checkmate for sure…if I hadn't made physical copies,” I say, smiling at her. “You think I wouldn't take precautions? You got me pegged as a Romero Robber. Those boys haven't been caught yet, now, have they? Probably because they are all about precautions, don't you think?” I pull out the Target-printed photos I brought with me—not because I actually thought this would happen. I didn't. Totally underestimated this girl, I'll admit it. But because holding and touching actual photos somehow still feels more legit than swiping through a set on someone's phone.

“Well. That's…surprising.” She gives me a once-over like she's really seeing me for the first time. “And maybe those would be checkmate,” she says, imitating me, “if I didn't have photos of my own.”

She digs into her tote and whips out a thin stack of black-and-white photographs. She drops them on the picnic table so they slide apart, revealing four separate shots of Benny and me in the Mary Kay van with a time and date stamp at the bottom. I'm shocked.

“How did you—? You were skydiving. You didn't have a camera.”

“You knew that was me?” It's her turn to look impressed.

“Your tattoo. It gave you away that day at the truck. But what I can't figure out is how you took these.”

“Well, I wasn't alone then, either. I've got my own posse, thank you very much.” She grins, obviously proud of herself. “Looks like we might have a stalemate, huh? You've got dirt on me. I've got dirt on you. We can either call it even and walk away and ignore each other…or we can figure out a way to help each other first,
then
walk away.” She stretches out her long, tanned legs and crosses them at the ankle. I kept wondering why she didn't seem afraid of me and now I think I know. She's not afraid of anything. This girl jumps off skyscrapers for fun. She's successfully infiltrated the bank and managed to break into my phone without my knowing. She's a force of nature. Forget the lions. I want to channel some of what she has.

“What do you have in mind, exactly?” I ask, sitting close enough beside her that our legs are touching. Like every other time we've touched, a jolt of adrenaline shoots through me and I feel energized. Weirdly happy.

Lexi gets this almost shy smile on her face, like she feels it, too, and then leans away from me so she can look me in the eye. “Okay, so you obviously know who I am and who my dad is, right? Here's the thing. His boss—the guy I was with at the taco truck—is the one who's really behind the mortgage fraud my dad was arrested for. I mean, they're both guilty, but my dad's taking the fall while Harrison gets off scot-free.” She brushes some dust off her knee and I'm staring at her legs, at the line of her thigh muscle, wondering if all that skin is as soft as it looks.

“Where was I?” She swallows nervously as I look up from her legs and into her eyes.

“Your dad's boss,” I murmur.

“Oh yeah. So he's got this secret safe-deposit box where he's stashed the documents that tie him to the fraud. Understand? Well, yeah, of course you do, sorry. You're college bound, right? UCLA?”

“You broke into my house. That's how you got my phone.” The bars that go over my bedroom window somehow came off on graduation day. It was her. She was in my room. I should be mad, but thinking about her in my bedroom makes me anything but.

“I had my phone in my pants that day,” I say, remembering out loud. “How did you…?”

“You changed clothes, remember? Nice calves by the way. Sexy.” She raises an eyebrow and I bust out laughing.

“You are something else,” I say, and for a moment we lock eyes and then I'm leaning in without thinking, my hand coming up to cup her face.

My lips are hovering a millimeter away from hers when suddenly she slides along the picnic table, putting distance between us.

“Is that really such a good idea? How do I know you're not playing me?”

“Because
you're
playing
me
and doing a much better job than I ever could,” I say. I came here nearly out of my head about the job, and somehow she's managed to make me forget for a few minutes all about Soldado and what he's planning. She's got the upper hand here, no question.

“I think it's better if we keep this strictly professional,” she says.

I laugh. “Baby, there is nothing professional about what we're doing.”

Her mouth quirks up. “Okay, so we keep it strictly criminal, then.”

I still want to kiss her. Bad. But she has a point. Getting involved with me would not be a good idea. She's got a dad who's in jail; does she really want a boyfriend who might end up there, too?

“So can we get back to the job?” she asks.

“You want me to get you the contents of Bank Guy's safe-deposit box,” I say.

“Yes.”

“And then give it to you after the job? I hate to break it to you, but those boxes are in the vault. And we never touch vaults. They're hard to get into and even harder to get out of without getting caught.”

“I've been down to the LL National vault. I think I have a pretty good idea of how elaborate the security is. But that's why you wanted me to get all this stuff, isn't it? This time you're going for it, and you need to figure out the best way in and out.”

The best way in and out.
This sentence rattles around in my brain, and I get this feeling in my gut.
The best way in and out.
There's something there, something important. I lean over and put my head in my hands. What? What is it?

“Oh my god! That's it!” I yell, jumping off the picnic table because suddenly I need to move. Soldado wants the plans so he can locate the exact right spot to dig into the vault. He doesn't care about getting out because he wants us to get caught. And I only asked her for the extra intel to keep her from figuring out about the tunneling. But maybe…Lexi knows the inside of the bank. The way the security works.

“That information of yours—is there anything in there about how the vault opens up?”

“Well, yeah. A couple of pages. The only way in is to get the codes the bank managers and security have. They change all the time, so you'd have to force the manager and the lead security officer to go down to the vault with you and open it.”