Beautiful Heist

17. There's No I In Team...But There's Two In Jail Time

Seventeen

There's No I In Team...But There's Two In Jail Time

"You know, it's been three days. Do you think we can do something other than sit here?"

"You remember what I said about this one, don't you?"

"That this one was trickier than the Met? How am I supposed to believe that when it's someone's house? Yeah, it's a billionaire someone's house, but still! Besides, how in the world did they make so much money when he's a professor?"

"The sabbaticals they take? They go on archeological digs. On their last few, they've found very valuable things that collectors and museums paid a lot for. We've been keeping tabs on them, just in case they come across anything..."

"Ooh! So it's like Indiana Jones? And he brings his wife and kid along? They have to have some epic family vacations..."

"Just hush, Emmy."

John and I were sitting in the car Ryan had 'given' to us. It had been three days since the entire fiasco with the Knights. A few more things had changed than I liked...and not just because of them.

First, I'd apparently been recognized in New York. My kidnapping was being plastered all over the news even more than it had been. It had been dying down for a little while, but after someone had tipped off the police, thinking they spotted me in the diner with Drake and Jason, it was all over again. It had taken a day to air on the news, but by then, we were in Boston.

Second, when John and I left New York, he had to call Paul and tell him all about what happened. He kept the phone on speaker so I could listen in and add a few things when needed. Apparently, any type of encounter with the Knights had to be recorded. Even my previous run-in with Ryan at the airport would be.

It was pretty safe to say Paul was pissed, though he, of course, asked if we were okay before he started yelling at John. Rosaline could be heard in the background, trying to calm him down. He wanted to know everything, including what had happened right before they'd gotten us. John had looked over at me...and lied straight through his teeth. We were 'just walking back to the hotel' when they got us. It would have been a total embarrassment if he'd told them what had actually happened.

And last but definitely not least, John had pretty much turned a complete one-eighty. He wasn't the guy who'd confessed he liked me a little too much. No, he was back to his frigid self, only talking to me when completely necessary. I admit it wasn't as bad as it had been before, but I still wasn't appreciating being ignored most of the time.

And just what had we been doing besides sleeping at our hotel? Staking out the house of the family who had the next painting. Not stalker-ish at all.

When John broke out the binoculars the first five minutes, sitting on the barren road looking down at their house three days ago, I swear I was going to go crazy. Now, for the third day in a row, we were sitting here on their street, which pretty much was theirs since they were the only ones who lived on it.

It was later in the afternoon and the sun had just begun to set, which made it seem darker than it actually was, surrounded by trees. I had John's laptop in my lap as I sat in the passenger seat, watching as the different combinations of numbers and letters flew across the screen. He had a program running, wirelessly connected to the Landon's security system, trying to break its code. We hadn't had much luck, but we were getting closer.

As for John, he was sitting on the pavement between the car and the side of the road, leaning beside me with binoculars in hand. He was really turning into a creeper and I would have told him so...if he hadn't told me to shut up the last time I had, threatening me with not letting me go with him on the break-in.