It was a gift from Dad for my tenth birthday. He’d also bought me an American Girl doll, which I’d immediately renamed Marm after Fredericka Mandelbaum, a famous Prussian-born con woman who owned her own thieves’ den in New York in the 1870s.

  Eventually I grew too old for Marm. But I never outgrew the scrambler.

  I pressed the button on the little black box, watched as the light on top shone blue, indicating that it was working, and then shoved it back inside my jumpsuit. Then, with a deep breath, I slipped out of Christian Miles’s bedroom.

  As I made my way down the long hallway, I ran my hands over the walls, checking for possible hiding spots as I went. I didn’t actually expect to find anything there—the area was much too out in the open for there to be an entrance to a secret room. Miles would’ve wanted at least a little seclusion if he planned to be slipping in and out of a room he didn’t want anyone else to know was there.

  And a main hallway like this just wasn’t conducive to that.

  So I quickly moved on from one room to the next until I was satisfied that every inch of the upstairs had been thoroughly checked.

  This was no small feat, given the massive size of the house, and when I was finished, a look at my phone told me I’d already burned through forty-five minutes of my time in Miles’s house.

  It wouldn’t be long before Mrs. Bailey came back to check on us. I was sure of that. And it was in our best interest for me to be back there with Ollie when she did.

  But I also knew we wouldn’t have another chance at unfettered access to the house like this again. Well, not before the actual break-in.

  I shot down a back staircase as quickly as I could while still being quiet and wandered into the first room I came to.

  It turned out to be Miles’s office. Or library. Or man cave. Or maybe it was meant to be a combo of all three. Either way, rows of books lined three of the walls, and the built-in shelves holding them extended approximately fifteen feet to the ceiling.

  As I moved farther inside, I could just make out particles of dust as they swirled around in the air, only visible because of the light shining in from outside. Directly in front of the large bay window sat an oversized mahogany desk with intricate designs winding their way up the legs and then disappearing into the smooth surface of the top as if they’d never been there in the first place.

  The desk itself was a piece of art, and it made sense that there were no framed pictures in the room.

  Now this was the kind of place where a person would build a hidden room.

  I started in one corner and began to pull on the bookshelves in different places, expecting each time that something would give way and the whole wall would open up for me. But nothing moved, even when I threw all my weight behind my efforts.

  Breathing heavily from the physical exertion, I started again, this time getting down on all fours and putting my face up against the space where the shelves met the floor. If there was a secret room behind these bookshelves, I’d likely be able to feel the air escaping and at least be able to pinpoint where it was.

  As I was crawling behind Miles’s desk to make my way to the other side of the room and continue my search, I heard footsteps in the hallway. With barely enough time to dive out of sight, I pulled myself into the narrow space between Miles’s leather chair and his desk and hid.

  Seconds later, the door opened and people walked in.

  “Braxton wants to know how much security you want for the fifteenth,” a deep voice said as the footsteps made their way farther into the room.

  Two sets of footsteps, I noted.

  “How many people are supposed to be here?” another voice asked. This one had a slight southern drawl mixed with a hint of something tougher.

  Christian Miles.

  “Roughly two hundred,” the first voice answered. It didn’t take a detective to guess he was a part of Miles’s security detail. Maybe even the head of security. “I’d suggest having at least twenty men. Ten visible and ten behind the scenes.”

  “Very well,” Miles answered, not thinking about it long.

  The security guy continued. “There haven’t been any threats connected to the event, and—”

  “I said fine.” Miles cut him off.

  “Yes, sir,” the man responded.

  “Anything else?” Miles asked, sounding distracted.

  “A few of the cameras around the property seem to be acting up again, but I have our tech guy on the way to check it out,” the man said. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. And I’ll make sure everything’s working again by the fifteenth.”

  “Good, good,” Miles murmured before switching topics. “I’m heading into the city in ten and will need a few people to come with me. Send them out to the heli in five.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, and don’t give me the squirrelly guy, the one with the glasses?” Miles added with a hint of a sneer in his voice. “He always turns green when we hit turbulence and I don’t want to smell like vomit when I meet with the Parkerson Group.”

  “Of course, sir,” the man said. “I’ll send Harper and Voight.”

  “Fine” was all Miles said before one of the pairs of footsteps retreated from the room and then disappeared altogether.

  At this point, I was alone in the room with only one other person. And there was no way for me to tell if that other person was Miles or his security detail. Not that it mattered. I so didn’t want to run into either of them.

  So I waited.

  Until finally, after a few more minutes of silence, the person began to move again, this time making his way across the room.

  And right toward me.

  I froze in my spot under the desk and tried my best not to breathe. If he came to sit down, it would all be over. Because there would be no excuse for a watch cleaner to be hiding in a billionaire’s personal office/library/man cave that would possibly fool anyone.

  Please don’t come over here. Please don’t come over here.

  Not that this was the first time I’d found myself in a tight situation. I mean, every heist or con seems to derail in one way or another. The difference was, I’d never had to clean up the mess on my own before. Dad had always been there to either think fast or have my back if things went awry. So this was sort of new territory for me.

  I’m not one to pray, but what the heck. It didn’t hurt to throw it out there.

  And then I heard the person stop a few feet away from where I was hiding and pick something up. Something that made a distinct clinking sound as it hit his ring or watch. There were two more loud clinks and then the sound of liquid being poured into a glass.

  Whoever it was had gone over to the bar that was set up in the corner and was helping himself to a drink. I could hear him gulp it down and pour another. The pungent smell of liquor filled the air and I wrinkled up my nose in disgust. It smelled stale. And funky. Like whatever he was drinking had gone bad.

  Then again, most alcohol smells bad to me.

  After the person had downed his second drink, he replaced the empty glass and followed the first pair of footsteps out the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

  When I was sure I was alone again, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding in.

  I had to get out of there. And fast.

  The security guard had said the surveillance cameras weren’t working properly and someone was on their way to check it out. That meant that someone would be going into Miles’s bedroom soon and would find one of the watch cleaners was not actually where she was supposed to be—cleaning watches.

  I pushed the chair away from the desk and bent forward to crawl out, but paused halfway.

  And then looked down at the floor beneath my hands.

  I hadn’t noticed it while I’d been hiding. Maybe because I was too focused on what Miles and the security guy were saying, or too freaked that I might get caught. Either way, I couldn’t believe I’d almost missed it completely.

  But now I was in the perfect position to stumble on what I’d been looking for all along. I traced my finger along the line that ran across the floorboard behind the desk. You wouldn’t even have noticed the crack unless you were looking for it.

  Or, like me, you felt air coming from down below.

  It had to be Miles’s secret room.

  And I’d found it.

  Entry Twenty-Six

  Now I just had to figure out how to get in.

  I began rummaging around on the floor, pulling at any cracks I could find, thinking maybe there was a hidden panel beneath the desk that opened to some sort of keypad or lock. But that turned out to be a bust.

  So I began to search through Miles’s desk. I looked inside every drawer, practically emptying them out, hoping to find the lock that would gain me entry. But again, there was nothing.

  How the heck was I supposed to get in there?

  I collapsed back into Miles’s chair, noticing almost instantly how comfortable it was. I rocked back and forth a few times as I racked my brain to figure out where the keypad might be hidden. It had to be easily accessible to him. No way would a guy like that be willing to jump through hoops to get to his own treasure room.

  No, it had to be nearby.

  I glanced around absently at the things on Miles’s desk as I rocked back and forth. Finally my eyes fell on an iridescent envelope peeking out from a pile of papers on the corner. Pulling it free, I slid the card all the way out and read through the details that were printed across it in glittery script.

  My excitement began to grow as I slowly traced my fingers along the raised writing. As I came upon the last letter, I tapped the card on the desk happily, placed it back in its envelope, and hid the whole thing inside the pocket of my jumpsuit.

  Leaning back in the chair once more, I redirected my attention to Miles’s hidden treasure room. My time to gain entry was quickly running out, and while I had the where, I still hadn’t figured out the how.

  What I did notice was that in all my rocking, I’d moved the chair a few feet away from the desk. With a sigh, I leaned forward to grip the edge of the desk and pulled myself back again.

  That’s when one of my fingers slid across something on the underside of the desk. Something that shouldn’t have been there. Something round and buttonlike.

  As I pushed it, I let a smile grow across my face.

  A small whooshing sound cut through the air and I watched with widening eyes as the top of the desk began to separate in the middle, revealing a small control panel the size of a book.

  It contained just a speaker and a black square of glass.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” I whispered, glancing back up at the door to the room as if someone might walk through it any minute.

  “Prepare voice recognition and fingerprint scan,” a computerized woman’s voice said with a British accent.

  I wondered if Miles had had his choice of accents when it came to his computerized security, and then I speculated on why he’d chosen a British one. He was famously known for not particularly liking countries other than his own, so it was curious that he’d want a British-sounding voice talking to him every day.

  “Voice recognition and fingerprint scan about to commence,” the same voice said, this time a red line appearing and lighting up the black glass above it.

  Without hesitating, I pushed the button underneath the desk again and watched as the whole table closed back up, concealing what was hidden within.

  I glanced back down at my watch and shot up out of the chair.

  I had everything I needed, and now I had to get moving.

  Placing everything back where it had been, I raced across the room and listened at the door before sneaking out and back up the stairs. I didn’t run into anyone. If I had, I could’ve just said I was looking for Mrs. Bailey and had gotten turned around. It would’ve been a plausible excuse, but not having to make one in the first place was even better.

  One of the double doors to Miles’s bedroom was slightly ajar as I tiptoed up to it, and I paused midstep before going in. I had definitely closed the doors all the way before going on my search around the house. So either Ollie had opened the door at some point while I was gone or…

  “And then we just take this little brush here—it’s actually called a bushy prickle, just a fun little fact there—and I run it across the sides here with the organic adamantium solution I was telling you about earlier, and it disintegrates any subatomic particles that might have adhered themselves to the surface.”

  I could tell at once that it was Ollie who was doing the talking, but I had no idea what he was talking about.

  As he rambled on, I snuck across the room and into the bathroom, flushed the toilet, and threw my hands under the faucet for a few seconds before heading straight for the closet where I’d left Ollie an hour before.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, breezing into the room like I’d never left. I faked surprise at seeing Mrs. Bailey standing there next to Ollie, who was holding up one of the watches for her to see.

  I cast my eyes down at the floor like I’d just been caught.

  “Bathroom break,” I explained, trying to look embarrassed. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure where the guest bathroom was…”

  “Not at all, dear,” Mrs. Bailey said, so thoroughly enthralled with what Ollie was saying that it was as if she’d forgotten I was supposed to be there at all. “Stu was just telling me all about your fantastic company and how you get these watches so clean. I was hoping to get a few pointers for when Master Miles wants me to polish them up between cleanings.”

  “But—but as I was explaining, it—it’s our company’s patented cleaning solution that really makes the difference,” Ollie said, stammering slightly as he tried to bring me up to speed on the lies he’d been telling Mrs. Bailey.

  “You didn’t tell her about the organic adamantium solution, did you?” I asked, trying to sound alarmed even as I raised an eyebrow at him.

  Mrs. Bailey was still staring at me, so she didn’t see Ollie blush bright red.

  “Oh, I’m afraid he did,” Mrs. Bailey said, looking like she’d just gotten her new friend into trouble.

  “Stu, you know that’s a company secret,” I scolded lightly. “If Bob were to find out—”

  “Oh, dear, I promise I won’t say a word,” Mrs. Bailey insisted earnestly.

  I could tell she meant it. I almost felt bad about lying to such a sweet lady, but we needed to get out of there without suspicion. And soon. Before the security team came looking for the reason that the cameras had been acting up.

  Namely, me.

  “Okay,” I said, making it seem like I still wasn’t sure. Finally I just waved my hands in the air like I’d given up. “Well, I guess what Bob doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

  Ollie had already begun to place the watches back in their designated spots in the drawers, and I walked over to pack up the bag.

  “Well, we’re all finished here, Mrs. Bailey,” I said, zipping up the cleaning tools and heaving the whole thing over my shoulder. “No need to see us out.”

  Ollie and I began to walk away and had already made it halfway across Miles’s bedroom when Mrs. Bailey’s voice suddenly called out behind us.

  “Wait right there,” she said, the words coming out like a command.

  We both stopped cold in our tracks, and I closed my eyes while taking a deep breath.

  Had she somehow figured out we weren’t who we said we were? Did she know that I’d snuck out of the room and had been gone for over an hour? Were we about to be caught?

  I turned around slowly, prepared for the worst, and caught the look on Ollie’s face.

  It was pure terror.

  “Yes?” I asked, forcing my voice to come out calm and even.

  Mrs. Bailey walked over to me and stopped just a foot away, holding out her hand expectantly.

  “Your business card?” she asked finally. “I’d like to pass it along to Master Miles and tell him what a wonderful job you did. After he sees the work, I imagine we’ll be having you back around.”

  I let out a breath but hid it behind a warm smile. Then I slid my hand into one of the many pockets of my uniform and presented her with a card.

  “Thanks so much, Mrs. Bailey,” I said, already feeling guilty that if all went as planned, she’d never see us again.

  Entry Twenty-Seven

  “A bushy prickle?” I asked before bursting out laughing. “Organic adamantium solution? Now remind me, do we get ours straight from outer space or is that shipped through Amazon?”

  We were back on the bus headed home, having managed to make it off Miles’s property without encountering any other issues. I hadn’t had a chance to tell Ollie everything I’d learned while traipsing around the house, since I’d been too busy making fun of the little story he’d told Mrs. Bailey.

  “Go ahead and laugh, but she bought it, didn’t she?” he said, folding his arms over his chest.

  “But adamantium?” I asked, shaking my head at him.

  “It was all I could think of,” he said, shrugging.

  “You better hope her grandkids aren’t fans of X-Men,” I said, my laughter dying down to a chuckle.

  “Well, feel free to come up with the lies yourself next time,” he said, scowling. “I was only trying to save your butt, remember?”

  “You’re right, Ollie. My bad,” I said, forcing the smile from my face. “You really did do a good job back there. She didn’t suspect anything.”

  He gave me a bit of side-eye before seeming to forgive me.

 

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