Sin was in the Keys with Charlie when the call came.
“I have some bad news,” Frank said.
Sin cradled the phone to her ear as her hands were busy helping Charlie with the AT-17 Bobcat. “Tell me straight, Frank. You won’t be telling me anything I don’t already know.”
“The charges were dropped.”
Sin put the wrench down and held the phone with her grease-covered hand and growled her frustration.
“Calm down, Sin.”
“Fuck that, Frank. I’m pissed. The bitch knows what happened to George. She probably killed him, and I’m supposed to be calm? And what happens to George’s gallery now that he has disappeared?”
A breath was taken at the end of the line. “Ashley takes it over. If he shows up, he collects the revenue; if not, she gets to keep it.”
“God damn it, Frank.”
“Look at all the good you did,” Frank said. “You brought the Painted Beauty Killer to justice, and you solved a forty-five-year-old case.”
“Don’t placate me. You know that only makes me angry.”
“I don’t like this anymore than you do, Sin, but my hands are tied.”
Sin bit her lower lip as she paced the hangar. “What are you saying, Frank?”
“I’m saying that this case is officially over. But,” Frank continued, “I do have a little bit of good news.”
“Which is?”
“Since the charges were dropped, if evidence comes to light, she can still be charged with kidnapping…among other things.”
“Thanks, Frank. I’ll talk to you later.” Sin hung up the phone and looked at Charlie who had been listening to every word.
“I don’t like that look in your eyes, Sinclair. What are you thinking?”
La Perla Angel de la Muerte
“Nothing,” she said. “I need to take a ride, clear my head.”
Sin placed her reflective aviator sunglasses over her eyes, and blew a kiss to Charlie. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“A few days?”
His words were drowned out by the rumble of the bike’s exhaust as Sin fishtailed her way down the access road.
73
Three days later, Sin met up with Fletcher and Garcia in the same diner where they ate the morning after the raid on the Academy. While they ate, they finalized a strategy for their mission.
“You spoke to Frank and Charlie?” Fletcher asked. “They agreed?”
“They agreed to do what I asked. Obtain the needed information.”
Fletcher put his coffee mug down and shook his head. “Neither knows exactly what we’re planning?”
“Not exactly.”
“Frank is going to be pissed.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Garcia looked around at the retirees and business people eating their breakfasts. “Do you still wonder?” he said.
“Wonder what?” Sin asked.
“What it would be like to be them. To be normal.”
Sin eyed the smiling couples and the haggard faces of those on their way to work. She then looked at Garcia and Fletcher, remembering the story about his wife. “No,” she said. “We all have a life to live; a purpose to fulfill. I figure we’re fulfilling ours.”
Fletcher rose from the table, slapping some cash on top of the bill. “That’s too deep for this Aussie. What do you say we go finish this?”
Sin and Garcia smiled as they stood from the booth and walked out into the morning sun.
They each spent the day getting into their perspective locations and blending into their environments. By midnight, all the pieces were in place.
“Check in,” Sin radioed.
“Everything is calm,” Garcia reported. “Still have a few people roaming the area, but they are thinning out as we speak.”
“Wait until everyone is gone,” Sin replied. “We have all night. No reason to be rash.”
“Affirmative,” Garcia radioed.
“Fletch?”
“Everything here is about the same. She met a couple of friends for drinks and dinner and then headed straight home. There is a light on in her bedroom, but no sign of her leaving.”
“Ten-four,” Sin said. “Everything here is still in full swing. This town shuts down late, but we knew that. As soon as the bars close at two a.m., I’m sure it will quiet down.”
“Keep your communication open and check in on the hour. No one moves without my say so.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Fletcher said.
“Got it, Boss Lady,” Garcia answered.
A little after three, Garcia radioed, “All’s quiet. I’m making my move.”
“In and out,” Sin replied. “I want radio confirmation when you leave and when you are on the road north.”
“Affirmative.”
Twenty minutes later, Garcia returned. “I’m out. See you in a few hours.”
Sin radioed at four a.m. “The streets are finally empty. I’m heading in.”
“Are you sure you want to play it the way we designed it?” Fletcher said. “A lot could go wrong.”
“I like my odds,” Sin said. “Let me know when she is on her way.”
“Ten-four.”
Sin made her way to the alley behind the Stokler Gallery on Atlantic Avenue in Delray Beach. She picked the lock and disabled the newly installed alarm. Using a penlight, she made her way around the gallery. She eyed Joel’s work and gasped at the price tags. The notoriety of the case and Ashley’s acquittal must have made the demand for Miranda’s work that much greater. There wasn’t a price lower than $75,000; even the prints had doubled.
Sin drew her Balisong from her back pocket, opened it with a flick of her wrist, and got to work.
When she was finished, she waited until five a.m., called Fletcher, calmly took a seat, and waited.
Within a few minutes, her earpiece buzzed. “I made the call. She bought it hook, line, and sinker. She’s on the move,” Fletcher radioed. “I’ll follow her, but I’m sure she is headed your way.”
“I promise to welcome her with open arms,” Sin replied.
Five minutes later, the front door opened and Sin could see Ashley’s silhouette enter the gallery. She punched in the number sequence on the keypad before turning on the lights. It was obvious that she had jumped out of bed and drove over as fast as possible when the alarm company called. Her hair was disheveled and she was dressed in a pair of yoga pants, sweatshirt, and flip-flops. Not exactly the designer chic
