CHAPTER 13

Yawning, Cassie steppedinto the garage area of PCS. She’d been up late studying for her upcoming psych exam the night before. And she’d just finished an unusually busy day. She was looking forward to going home and taking a nap before starting another study session.

“Think fast!” she said, tossing the van keys to Howard, who reached up without even looking and snatched them out of the air as they flew over his head.

“You’re all done?” he asked.

“Yup,” she said, yawning again. “Gas tank’s already full for tomorrow, too.”

“Great, thanks! I’ll go check it in,” he said, heading toward the parking lot behind the garage.

Brett stood nearby with another courier named Nick, and they were both staring at Brett’s phone screen.

Brett looked up. “Well, if it isn’t Ms. Perfect Record,” he said. “Not so perfect anymore, though, eh?” he smirked.

Angel popped her head out of the tote bag Cassie had slung over her shoulder. She looked at Brett and a low growl rumbled from deep in her throat. “Shhh,” Cassie said, patting the dog’s head. “He’s not worth it.”

“Cute dog!” Nick said.

Angel looked particularly adorable today. Cassie had dropped her off earlier to get groomed, and she’d picked her up just before the end of her shift. Cassie had resisted the groomer’s suggestion to trim the dog’s hair super short, and as a result, her silky fur was extra fluffy and soft. She looked like a living white teddy bear with a bright pink bow perched atop her head.

Nick was eighteen, with short, spiky blond hair and boundless energy. He was a newer employee and oblivious to the antagonistic undercurrent that hummed between Cassie and Brett. “Cassie, you should check out what we’re looking at,” he said, coming closer to pet Angel. Cassie took her out of the tote bag and let Nick hold the pup while he ran a hand over her soft fur. Angel reveled in the attention as usual. “We’re looking up famous art thefts.”

Cassie winced, and Nick immediately looked contrite. “Sorry, Cass. But seriously, losing that old lady’s package wasn’t your fault.”

Brett snorted with derision, but Nick chattered on. “You should see some of these thefts. This one French guy was like a real-life Spiderman! He would scale multistory buildings and then escape the police by running across the rooftops. He broke into this super famous Paris museum through an upper-story window and stole five paintings worth more than seventy million dollars!

“And this other dude, he was just a bus driver. But he took a painting right off the wall during normal hours and escaped with it by climbing out the bathroom window.” Nick shook his head in amazement. “Then this last one Brett just showed me was awesome. Four guys broke into the National Gallery of Norway, stole a famous painting, and left a note saying, ‘Thanks for the poor security.’ Isn’t that hilarious!” he guffawed.

“Now, now, Nick,” Brett said. “Cassie probably won’t find this as amusing as you and I do. I mean, she literally cost Olga thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars because of her negligence.”

Cassie’s face flushed with anger, and another low rumble issued from Angel, so soft that Cassie barely heard it. Even though the dog was still in Nick’s arms, her dark eyes were now fixed on Brett.

Cassie clenched her fists. “Getting robbed is not negligence, you idiot.”

Brett slipped his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and moved closer to them. “I beg to differ,” he said. “Let’s think about who the real idiot is here. Like, who would get out of their car and leave the doors unlocked with a valuable client package inside?” He looked at Nick. “You would never do something that irresponsible, would you, Nick?”

Nick looked confused. “Uh...well, no, but, uh...”

“Exactly,” Brett said with satisfaction, patting Nick on the shoulder. “I’m surprised Howard and Tami haven’t fired you yet.”

Suddenly, Angel leapt from Nick’s arms and once on the ground, grabbed ahold of Brett’s pant leg, yanking viciously at it.

“Hey, get off, get off!” Brett cried out, backing away and kicking to shake the little dog off at the same time. But Angel held on with a ferocity that surprised Cassie.

Cassie paused just long enough to torment Brett a few seconds more before calling out, “Release!”

Angel instantly let go of his pant leg, but she didn’t return to Cassie. Instead, she advanced toward the retreating Brett, who continued backing away from the little ball of fluff, saying, “Stay away from me, you stupid mutt!”

With a feeling of immense satisfaction, Cassie noticed the slight tremor in his voice. Brett actually sounded scared. She stepped forward and scooped Angel up.

“Geez, Brett,” said Nick. “She was just playing with you. I mean, seriously, she’s just a teeny, little thing.” And he patted the dog’s head again. Angel licked his palm in appreciation.

“Did my sweet, little Angel scare that mean man?” she cooed at the dog, and Nick laughed.

“Is she even allowed to have that mutt in here?” Brett whined to Howard, who had just returned from the parking lot.

“I just picked her up from the groomer at the end of my shift,” Cassie said quickly, forestalling any potential objection from Howard. “I’m heading home now.”

“Yes, I think that would be best,” Howard said sternly. But as Brett turned away, Howard gave her a quick wink before going back to his computer screen.

“You still cost Olga a fortune,” Brett tossed back over his shoulder before sauntering off.

Cassie watched him go—imagining all the different ways she’d like to take him out. Just before he disappeared through the door to the front office, a flash of red at his feet caught her attention. She looked closer. Brett was wearing a pair of black Nikes. They had a red Swoosh logo on the side and a unique column-style heel design.

That was where she’d seen those shoes before. On Brett’s stupid feet!

Her mind whirred, leaping to the inexorable conclusion. Brett? Brett was the thief!