I insisted on not bringing a gun for that exact situation.
It’s so easy to resort to deadly force when in reality it’s really not needed.
If she had opened the closet, I would have rushed out past her, knocking her down to the floor and then fleeing up the stairs.
With the hoodies and sunglasses over our eyes and the simple act of surprise, the woman would have had a difficult time identifying us to the authorities.
Besides, if we were ever caught and put on trial, robbery with a deadly weapon carries a much bigger charge than burglary.
“That’s why I wanted you to have a gun,” Owen says.
He did not agree with me and did everything but call me a coward for wanting to prevent irreversible consequences.
But since it was Olive and me going in, the decision was hers and she sided with me.
When Olive again asks him about the woman, he just shrugs. “I have no idea. It seemed like she was a friend of the family because she just pulled up and walked in. She had a key. Maybe she was looking for something.”
“Well, at least she didn’t look inside the closet,” Olive says.
I run my fingers over the tube with the rolled up painting laying on top of my feet.
When we hit a bump in the road, the hard edges of the frame underneath my hoodie jam into my chest.
At least, she didn’t come after we left and notice that the Monet is missing from the wall, I say silently to myself.
I let that thought linger in my mind as I mull it over.
We had originally planned to take other paintings but we didn’t see any on the way down.
There were also no additional paintings in the vault. And on the way out, Olive was too shaken up to consider the Monet again.
She doesn’t know that I took the Monet and she doesn’t know that I took some other things as well: a Rolex watch, a Cartier tennis bracelet, and a Tiffany’s diamond ring that looks to be at least five carats.
But I’m not hiding any of this from Olive.
I want to show her every last piece and I want to celebrate our victory together.
Unfortunately, I can’t.
The person I’m hiding these from is her brother.
I don’t trust him and he doesn’t trust me.
Our plan is to disappear together and then eventually live separate lives.
I’ll set him up with some of the proceeds of this job, but I will not share it evenly. I will not share it three ways.
In an ideal world, he wouldn’t be involved with this at all.
He wouldn’t know my new identity and I’d have no ties to him.
But nothing is perfect.
He’s Olive’s family and until he does something to betray her, I have to accept him as part of our relationship.
But that doesn’t mean that I have to share millions of dollars with him.
We drive to a large parking lot packed with cars and find a spot near the top.
An acquaintance is going to pick up the van later this evening.
When we get into my rental, I drive all of us to a suite I rented at the Marriott.
It’s not the Ritz, not yet, but it’s better than where we met before.
Besides, Olive’s apartment is out of the question because Sydney and James are there.
I checked in earlier and we go straight to the elevator.
We are each rolling carry-on suitcases filled with changes of clothes and other supplies.
We know better than to say a word until we are inside but the half smiles on everyone’s faces says it all.
I rented Owen a nearby room, at the end of the hall, which seems to satisfy him.
“Anybody want anything to drink?” I ask, heading straight to the minibar.
While Olive uses the bathroom and Owen takes off his uniform, I pull the Monet out of my hoodie and drop it carefully behind the dresser for safe keeping.
Due to their size, the watch and the jewelry are a lesser consideration and I keep them in various pockets of my clothes.
Afterward, we sit around the dining room table and celebrate with a round of beers.
I relay how much of an expert Olive is at cracking safes and how many drill bits it took to get through it.
By the time we talk through the story for the third time, we are on our second round and the level of celebration is getting bigger.
“So, how did you know how to do all of that?” Owen asks.
“I have a feeling that Olive has a lot more experience with stealing paintings than she is letting on,” I say with a laugh.
“You do, right? I mean, how would you know how to do it otherwise?”
Olive stares at us, her eyes blinking at irregular intervals. This is her chance to tell the truth. What would it hurt? I wonder.
“Apparently, you two have never heard of YouTube before,” she says.
“You learned how to do that on the internet?” Owen asks.
She nods.
“You’d be surprised what you can learn online.”
Our eyes meet and I hold her gaze.
Why is she lying?
Why won’t she just come out and tell us the truth?
My only consolation is that perhaps she doesn’t want to tell Owen.
But then I remember that she had lied to me about this before as well.
“So what now?” she asks.
“I’ll take the painting to my contact and he’ll pay us,” I say with a shrug.
“By yourself?” Owen asks.
I nod.
“Is that a problem?” I ask, my body tensing up.
“Yes, it is,” he says, glaring at me.
26
Olive
When we make future plans…
The relief of getting away with the painting without getting caught does not last long.
I want to spend the night having a few drinks and relaxing but there is little trust between the two men in my life.
I know that Nicholas got Owen a room at the end of the hall because he wanted to give us some privacy tonight but Owen is reading nothing but suspicion into that.
“Owen, that guy is Nicholas’ contact. He was always going to turn over the painting and get paid for it on his own.”
Nicholas reaches for my hand under the table and gives me a knowing squeeze.
“I don’t care,” Owen says. “I’m not comfortable with that. That’s a lot of money. A lot of my money.”
“Hey, you wouldn’t even be in on this deal if it weren’t for her,” Nicholas says. “And don’t forget who we are doing all of this for.”
“Oh, please, you’re doing it for yourself. You don’t have any fucking money and you needed Olive to help you.”
“We’re doing this for you! They’re going to kill you and at this point I hope they fucking do it.”
Their voices get louder and louder and my head begins to throb.
What the hell was I thinking? They’re never going to get along. They are never going to have peace.
“Listen,” I start to say.
“Listen to me!” I say louder. But their shouts continue.
“Shut the fuck up!” I finally scream.
They close their mouths and look at me.
“Owen, I’m not going to let anything happen to that painting. Tomorrow, Nicholas is going to give it to his contact and that’s what’s going to happen. I don’t care if you don’t like it but this is not your call.”