Some stuff that must’ve fallen out of his pocket jangled on the sheets. Loose change, a golf tee. Tess hurled them with all her might against the wall. It wasn’t worth it anymore. Not for anything.

She threw on a robe and ran herself a bath, anything to remove the touch of him. That was the last time she would ever feel his hands on her. It would mean giving this up, but he was more than she could take. Like Ned said, they could go anywhere. Go walkabout. He didn’t know just how prophetic he was. A fresh start. Yeah, she’d earned that.

Tess went into the bedroom closet and laid out a long backless Dolce & Gabbana evening gown. She picked a pair of brown Manolo Blahniks. She would look gorgeous tonight. Give him something to miss for the rest of his life.

Tess knotted up her hair and sank naked into the large tub. The scent of the lavender bath oil made her feel good, clean. She lay back and rested her head on the smooth porcelain rim. The water lapped up over her shoulders. She shut her eyes.

Ned’s face and his laugh crept into her mind. Whatever shame she felt, it wasn’t enough to erase what had been a very good day. Ned Kelly. Like the outlaw. She smiled again. More like the pussycat. It was about time she had a go with someone who treated her well – make that great. He actually looked up to her.

She heard the bathroom fan go on. For a second Tess just lay back with her eyes closed. Then she heard humming.

Her eyes bolted open. Someone huge was standing over her. Tess’s heart leaped into her throat. “What’re you doing here?”

He had a sullen, cold look in his eye, dark hair tied in a ponytail. She thought she’d seen him somewhere before.

“A shame,” he said with a shrug.

Suddenly he had Tess by the throat with his thick hands. He forced her head underwater. What’re you doing?

Tess held her breath as long as possible, but as she opened her mouth, water rushed into her lungs, making her cough and gag, letting more water in. She was thrashing and kicking against the porcelain tub. She tried to force herself up, but Ponytail had her by the shoulders and head. He was incredibly strong, probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds.

Panic took hold, more water pouring into her lungs. She was clawing for the man’s face, trying to scratch him, anything. Through the soapy water she could see his thick arms holding her down. Too much time going by. She stopped kicking. Stopped ?ailing. She wasn’t coughing anymore. This can’t be happening, a voice said inside her.

Then another voice, afraid – far more accepting than Tess ever imagined. Yes, yes, it can. This is what it’s like to die.

Chapter 7

“HEY, OUTLAW!” Bobby exclaimed as I stepped into the kitchen of the run-down, canary yellow house in a seedy area just off 95 in Lake Worth.

“Neddie.” Dee got up and came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. A dream in jeans and long honey blond hair, every time Dee wrapped her arms around me, I ?ashed to how I’d had a crush on her since I was ?fteen. Everyone in the neighborhood did. But she fell for Bobby and his Bon Jovi looks in the ninth grade.

“Where you been?” My cousin Mickey looked up. He was wearing a black T-shirt that read, YOU AIN’T REALLY BAD, TILL YOU BEEN BROCKTON BAD.

“Where do you think he’s been?” Barney rolled back in his chair and grinned under the kind of black-framed glasses Elvis Costello wears. “Look at the kid’s face. Biggest day of his life, and he’s out romancing the ladies.”

“Please,” Dee scowled at him reprovingly. Then she shrugged with an inquisitive glint. “So?”

“So…” I looked around the table. “She showed.”

A little cheer went up. “Thank God,” said Bobby. “I was wondering how we were going to pull this off with Neddieboy having a panic attack every ?ve minutes. Here, you deserve this…” He slid me a beer.

“Judging by the time, and that shit-eating grin on your face,” Mickey said, looking at his watch, “I’d say it was the best lunch of your life.”

“You wouldn’t even believe me.” I shook my head.

“Hey, we’ve got all the time in the world,” Mickey said, the sarcasm running thick. “What the hell else we have going on here today? Oh, yeah, just that little matter of the ?ve million dollars.”

“Relax,” Barney said, winking at me, “he’s just pissed ’cause the only thing that’ll lay down with him just got euthanized by the ASPCA.”

Some laughter trickled around the table. Mickey picked up a black canvas bag. He removed ?ve legal-type manila envelopes. “So, what’s her name?”

“Tess,” I said.

“Tess.” Mickey pursed his lips, then curled them into a little smile. “You think this Tess will still love you if you come back with a million bucks?”

Everyone pulled up to the table. Tonight, things were going to change for us. For all of us. It was exhilarating. But it was business, too.

Mickey handed out the envelopes.

Chapter 8

IT WAS MICKEY’S PLAN, down to the last detail. Only he knew it. And how it all ?t together.

There was this fabulous house on South Ocean Boulevard. On Billionaire’s Row in Palm Beach. It even had a name. Casa Del Oceano.

Ocean House.

And in it, 50 to 60 million dollars’ worth of world-class art. A Picasso. A Cezanne. A Jackson Pollock. Probably other valuable stuff, too. But Mickey was clear: only these three were to be taken.

There was a mastermind behind the job. Went by the name of Dr. Gachet. Mickey wouldn’t tell us who it was. The whipped cream and cherry on top was we didn’t even have to fence the stuff. Just a textbook B and E. Our cut was 10 percent in cash. Five million. The next day. Just like the old days, split ?ve ways. I was risking everything on this. A clean record. The life I’d been leading, whatever that was.

“Bobby, Barney, and me, we’ll be the ones going in,” Mickey explained. “ Dee ’s outside on the walkie-talkie. Ned, I’ve saved the really cushy job for you.”

All I had to do was zip around Palm Beach and trigger the alarms in several expensive homes. All the owners would be at some posh charity ball at the Breakers. There were pictures of the houses and a sheet with the addresses. The local police force was small, and with alarms going off all over town, they’d be like the Keystone Kops going in ?fteen different directions. Mickey knew how to get into the target house and disable the alarm. There might be a housekeeper or two to worry about, but that was it. The hardest part would be not dropping the paintings when we took them off the walls.

“You’re sure?” I ?ipped through the house photos and turned to Mickey. “You know I’ll go in with you.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’ve never been arrested since you were a kid. Besides, for the rest of us, what’s a little conviction for grand robbery and interstate traf?c of stolen goods gonna matter? If you’re caught, whadda they get you for – petty vandalism?”

“If you’re caught, don’t even come back here.” Barney laughed, then downed a swig of beer. “We’ll hold back half your stake.”

“We all voted,” Dee said. “It’s not up for discussion. We want to keep you safe and sound. For your little Tess,” she giggled.

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