I blinked. “Oh. Now that you say that it makes sense. They didn’t steal any other gemstones, after all. But in the motel room they were bragging about how they were going to strike it rich.”
“Selling that stone will be a nice bonus, and tax-free, too, I suppose. Panama is a good place to launder money. But they have a midsized, growing business. They won’t pass up an opportunity to expand like I’m going to offer them. In the meantime, maybe we can get close enough to them to figure out why they only stole one gem when they could have stolen a king’s ransom. Money was obviously not their motive.”
I gave him a kiss. “I knew I kept you around for something.”
He smiled and straightened his tie. “I thought it was for my dashing good looks.”
“That too.”
Then I had an idea. “All right, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll go over to your house—”
“Oh, I like this idea already!”
“Behave. Now let me tell you how this is going to work…”
Later that day, I hid in the front hall closet of Octavian’s house, snuggled among his overcoats as I heard the doorbell ring.
Octavian, the clever dear, had left the closet door ever so slightly ajar so that I could hear better.
“Hello, sir. I’m Juan Pablo Endara. I’m here to look over your house and give you a security assessment.”
“Nice to meet you, young man. As I told your boss on the phone, I’m worried about burglars. I noticed someone had fiddled with the back door the other night. That’s why I called.”
I heard footsteps head to the back of the house. That was my cue to sneak out the front.
They would be occupied for a few minutes in the back. To make Octavian’s story sound plausible, I had tried to pick his back door with a nail file. He had a pretty good lock that couldn’t be picked with a nail file, not even by someone of my abilities, but I gave it a good try. That had left several convincing scratches around the lock and the latch that would have this security expert rubbing his hands with glee and telling his obviously wealthy potential client that someone had tried to break into his house.
Octavian leading him to the back door was his way of signaling that the security man had come alone and the coast was clear. If there had been two of them, or if someone had stayed in the security vehicle, then Octavian would have directed him to the front of the house, where he himself had left footprints in the flower bed next to one of the windows.
If you’re going to lie in a potentially life-threatening situation, it’s best to cover all the angles.
I slipped out of the closet and eased the door closed behind me. Octavian’s voice could still be heard from the back of the house, two rooms away. He would keep the man occupied there for several minutes. After peeking through a window to make sure the coast was clear, I opened the front door as quietly as I could.
The vehicle parked in Octavian’s driveway was not, as I’d hoped, the four-by-four I had followed to the motel. Instead, this was just an ordinary car with the Escudo Security logo emblazoned on the side.
I pulled out a small magnetic radio transmitter from my pocket. I had used these before, and they came in handy. You stuck it on the bottom of a vehicle, and it would transmit the car’s GPS coordinates to a special receiver with a range of ten miles. All I had to do was to fix it to a good spot and sneak away. Easy as pie.
Famous last words.
I went to the back of the car, got on my hands and knees, and reached under to place the GPS locator on the undercarriage just next to the trailer hitch.
And that’s when my back went out.
There was a sharp click—an actual, audible click—and a spike of pain.
And I couldn’t move. I was locked into position. It wasn’t that the pain kept me from moving, although the pain was considerable, but that I literally could not bend my back to get up.
I gritted my teeth and set the GPS. First priority—finish the mission. That was so ingrained in me I didn’t even think about it. Once the little device was safely tucked away out of sight, I gingerly lifted one hand and rubbed my lower back.
Even that light contact made me hiss in pain.
Where had this come from? And why did it have to happen now?
I heard a car approach. I tried to move crabwise out of sight, but the pain stopped me before I got two feet. Heart thudding, I watched as a four-door sedan drove slowly down Octavian’s street. Mother and father in front, looking ahead. Little girl in back, staring at me. I could see her mouth forming words, her finger pointing. The man in the passenger’s seat glanced my way. I grinned at him. He looked uncertainly at me before looking away.
And then they were gone.
That’s the good thing about civilians. Most of the time they don’t want to get involved. They’ll make up a perfectly valid reason in their heads why a little old lady is on her hands and knees in their neighbor’s driveway and then go on with their little lives.
Okay, one problem solved. Now to solve the big problem. I had maybe another minute or two. Again, I rubbed my back, ignoring the pain as I felt the golf ball-sized knot of tension right at the base of the spine.
I crab crawled to the back of the car, trying to get out of sight of the house. I could just barely reach the top of the trunk and tried to lift myself up, only to fall back on my hands and knees as another spike of pain shot through me.
I slowed my breathing.
