“There are so many things wrong with that as a retirement plan, I don’t even know where to start.”
“The painting was hanging in the hall. It had already been authenticated. Nobody would inspect it again until the owner died.The theft part he’d thought through pretty well. What came after . . .”
Sierra’s voice trembled as she broke off. She’d never told anyone this story. Never shared the details of what transpiredthat night. Reliving it in her mind was hard enough but saying it out loud was ten times worse.
Flynn moved her into the crook of his arm, looking at her with eyes darkening to indigo. “You don’t have to keep going. Notnow, not ever. I can’t stand how torn up you look.”
“No, I do. I have to tell you everything.” She stood, taking the steps down to the ground. Shook out her trembling hands asshe walked in a circle. Stomped her feet hard against the packed dirt to feel the zing of pain through her sneakers. “He mademe go with him, to be the lookout. Rick picked the lock like a pro.”
“He probably was.”
“Well, he got us in, and up the stairs. But when he tried to lift the painting down, the screws came right out of the wall.”Sierra closed her eyes, playing it back like a movie. “It threw off his balance, and he banged against the balcony rail. Theowner, Mrs. Newberry, came out to see what was going on. She had a big old rotary phone in her hand, and she tried to hitRick in the head with it.”
“Where were you?”
“Behind her. Watching. Frozen. Rick had sworn nobody was home, not even the live-in servants. He grabbed the phone and bashedher skull. Then she fell down the stairs. She just lay there, crumpled, in a pool of blood growing across the parquet floor.”
Sierra opened her eyes, drinking in the sight of the sun-dappled grass and the sparrow chirping by the poppies around themailbox. It grounded her here, in this place, today. Far from violence and criminals and fear.
Flynn leapt to his feet. Then he took her in his arms and just held her. “Breathe. You’re safe here. Just breathe.”
Huh. She had forgotten to breathe. That explained the burning tightness in her chest. Sierra pulled in one long, deep, shuddering breath.Then another. But the oxygen didn’t fix her nearly as much as Flynn’s steadiness did. Being enveloped in his arms pushed everythingaway so that she could breathe.
Cheek nestled below his collarbone, Sierra said, “I ran. Not that very moment. I didn’t want to make Rick suspicious. He freakedout. Wouldn’t let me call an ambulance, not even from a pay phone. He took me back to his place, hid my cell and his keys,then slammed five shots of tequila and passed out. I didn’t sleep all night. Was she dead? Would she have lived if we’d calledfor help? I was sick to my stomach.”
Hands moving to her shoulders, Flynn pushed her away so that he could meet her eyes. “Sierra, the man basically kidnappedyou.” His tone was firm, allowing for zero wiggle room. Like a teacher reminding you that homework was mandatory to your grade.“There was nothing you could’ve done. He didn’t get the painting?”
“No. There was no time to go back for it. Rick was worried that she’d hit a panic button on an alarm system or called 911.”
“What happened next?” Flynn led her back to the porch. He sat, then pulled her onto his lap.
All the touching helped steady her. A lot. Enough.
“The next morning he dropped me off at class, and said he’d pick me up after to go over our story. I went back to the dorm,packed my bag full of art supplies and my backpack with clothes. Then I hitched a ride to the place where all the undergradswent to get fake IDs to hit the bars.”
“It takes time to make a fake ID. They don’t spit them out of a computer.”
Spoken like a man who must’ve gotten his own for some freshman year beer runs. “True. They said it’d take a day. So I wentto a casino.”
Flynn burst out laughing. So loudly that three birds erupted out of the treetops, squawking their displeasure at the interruptionof their night. “That’s a fucking brilliant place to hide.”
Since she’d never told this story before, she had no idea if her choices had been stupid, desperate, or smart. His praisemeant the world to Sierra. “I’d never been to the Potawatomi Casino. Rick wouldn’t have thought to look for me there. They’vegot a huge bingo hall, with yellow and green chairs, filled with senior citizens. It felt almost safe.”
“Did you win?”
He was making this as easy as possible on her. “A couple of times. Which just made me feel guiltier. I gave everything I wonto the grandmother sitting next to me. The next day, I got my new ID and got on a bus out of town.”
“Where did you go?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Hell, where did you start from? When did this all go down?”
“I was in my final year of the graduate program at the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design. I went on the run in October oflast year. Switched directions a few times in case Rick was looking for me. Chicago for a week, then down to Tennessee. Stayedthere a month
