out from underneath the vehicle. I got to my feet, crept to the front of the truck, and looked inside the cab, but it was empty except for a set of keys hanging in the ignition.
I quickly scurried around to the other three trucks and looked into their cabs as well, but they too were all empty except for their respective keys. Since they giants hadn’t started loading them up yet, the backs of them were all still shut and locked.
I paused a moment, thinking. Not seeing or hearing any giants headed my way, I decided to risk checking on one more thing.
I climbed into the back of the truck that was open, the one that I’d seen the giants stuffing with art earlier.
It was almost full, with only a narrow path leading from the front to the back, and I imagined the giants would fill in the rest of the available space soon enough. I snapped my flashlight back on, moving it over everything inside. Rolled-up tubes, bubble-wrapped statues, empty frames made of gold and silver. The giants had certainly been thorough in their looting.
But there was one thing that was missing: the silverstone case that I’d seen Dixon carrying earlier.
I moved the flashlight over everything again, but the case wasn’t here, which meant that the jewelry wasn’t in the truck. But Dixon hadn’t been carrying the case when he’d come out here with the giants before. So where had he taken the jewelry? And why not store it in here with everything else?
I snapped off the light and stood in the darkness, thinking some more. Then I shook my head, slid the flashlight back through the loop on my belt, and crept toward the open end of the truck.
Once I made sure that the coast was clear and no giants were coming my way, I hopped out of the back of the truck and slipped into the shadows again. I thought about prying the bomb off the undercarriage, but I decided to leave the device where it was. I already had one explosive, and, really, that was all that I needed.
Because now it was time to spin my own web of death and destruction—and for Clementine to finally feel the Spider’s sting.
My next destination wasn’t nearly as picturesque as the covered bridge.
I stopped long enough to retrieve the first bomb from where I’d left it behind the bushes. Then I hurried down into the parking lot and scurried through the rows of cars until I reached Finn’s Aston Martin.
I checked to make sure there weren’t any giants lurking around, but the area was deserted. Once I was satisfied that I was alone, I scooted around to the front of the car and the tag there—FINNSTOY. I shook my head at his vanity, then reached around behind the tag until I felt something small, hard, and metal. I gave it a good yank, and a car key slid into my hand.
Given the shady life we led and all the people Finn, Fletcher, and I had killed over the years, the extra key was a little safety precaution we took. Finn had them stashed on all his vehicles, just like I had one on my car. Just in case one of us wanted to get into the other’s ride without making a lot of noise or needed to make a quick, clean getaway.
I used the key to pop the trunk, which contained a couple of black duffel bags. Finn always kept extra gear in his various cars, just as I had some stashed in the back of the Pork Pit, at Jo-Jo’s salon, and other places that I frequented. In case of emergencies. I’d say tonight definitely qualified as one of those.
I unzipped one of the duffel bags. Pistols, silencers, ammunition, cleaning oil. Most of the items inside were gun-related, since those were Finn’s weapons of choice. I dumped the gun I’d taken off the giant and grabbed one of Finn’s instead, along with a silencer and several clips of ammo. Guns jammed too much for my liking, but my foster brother was obsessive about keeping his in tip-top shape, so I knew they would be far more reliable than the giant’s.
Finn also had an extra suit, shirt, tie, and socks and a pair of glossy wing tips stowed in a small suitcase in the trunk, along with an iron. Not helpful, unless I wanted to steam and starch someone to death. I shook my head again, this time at his obsessiveness when it came to his appearance.
Finally, I unzipped the final bag—my bag.
Finn kept some of his things in my car, and I reciprocated in his. After the gun, the next items I grabbed were two extra knives and their holsters. I buckled the bands of leather around my thighs and slid the weapons into the appropriate slots. Now I had four blades instead of just two. Good for me, bad for everyone else.
Last, I pulled a pair of black boots out of my bag.
The scarlet heels I’d worn earlier were still tied to the leather belt around my waist. After dropping them in the trunk, I grabbed a pair of socks out of the bag and sat on the rim of the open trunk. I used some of the cut-off fabric from my dress to wipe as much of the dirt, dew, and grass off my feet as I could before sliding the cotton socks and boots onto my feet.
The black socks and boots didn’t exactly go with my dress. Or maybe they did, given how tattered, torn, and bloodstained the scarlet gown was now. Either way, now I wouldn’t have to watch where I was walking or worry about cutting up my feet. Besides, I felt better in the boots—stronger and more grounded. Steel toes tend to bolster a girl’s confidence in her ability to kick some serious ass.
When I was properly attired, I walked around the car, opened the passenger door, and grabbed my purse off the seat. I didn’t carry a purse all the time, and I hadn’t wanted to keep up with one tonight, which is why I’d left it in the car. But there was one final item in the tiny bag that I needed—a cell phone.
Clementine had mentioned that she had set up jammers inside the museum to stop people from calling the cops, but I was hoping that she hadn’t thought to put them outside too, especially way down here in the parking lot. I powered up the device and was pleased to see that I had a signal.
I checked the time. Ten-oh-three. Forty minutes had passed since I’d stepped outside the museum. Owen should almost be through the vault door by now, if Clementine’s calculations had been correct. Add the twenty minutes I’d spent roaming around inside the museum, and Phillip had been shot roughly an hour ago. That meant he probably had another hour left. Maybe two if we were both lucky.
I touched a contact on my cell phone. It rang three times before she picked it up.
“Detective Coolidge.” My sister’s warm, confident voice flooded the line.
“Hey there, baby sister,” I drawled. “Have I got a story to tell you.”
14
“Are you joking?” Bria asked three minutes later when I’d finished explaining everything. “Please, please,
“Unfortunately not.”
“You’re telling me that a group of giants is holding everyone at the Briartop museum hostage? And robbing the place while they’re at it?”
“You got it,” I replied. “I’m out here in the parking lot, taking a halftime break before I head back in and let Clementine know that things aren’t sewn up quite as neatly as she thinks they are.”
“What are you going to do, Gin?”
The suspicion in her voice might as well have been code for
“Well, right now, I’m going to take the bomb I got off the bridge, go back into the museum, and blow something up. I haven’t decided what, exactly. Any suggestions?”
Bria was silent for a moment. Then she let out a rueful laugh. “Well, I’d suggest the abstract wing. I never understood what all the fuss was about with that. Art should look like art, trees and flowers and people, not weird shapes and splotches of color all smeared together.”
I grinned, even though she couldn’t see me. “A woman after my own heart.”
Through the phone, I heard Bria typing on her keyboard. She was at the police station, and as soon as I’d told her Clementine’s name and description, she’d started searching for information on the giant.
“Here she is. Clementine Barker. Fifty-eight. Lives on Bear Hollow Road. Head of Barker Industries. Private security firm offering personal and corporate protection. I’m looking at the company website right now . . .” Bria let
