Chapter 12

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The rest of the evening was uneventful, except for the brief interruption Reach provided when he found the likeliest candidate for Mrs. Hamilton. We had been utterly confused when two Mrs. Hamiltons fitted the profile, and after determining they were actually sisters in law and finding that one was out of town, we decided on the older woman who lived in the Upper East Side.

Finding the house was easy. It exuded money and extravagance, a gate and a small garden leading up to the door of the two-story house. After a quick reconnaissance mission, and Reach hacking into the house’s wireless network, we noticed that the alarm system was one of the newest in the market. Reach assured us he could probably disconnect it, but it would take too much time and there was a thirty percent chance he would trigger it. We decided we wouldn’t risk it, so I would break in not during the night when the alarm turned on, but in plain daylight.

There was a tree that towered over the house, one of the branches nicely reaching just above one of the second floor’s windows. No other windows from other houses faced this part of the house and Reach would loop the street camera’s security feed. The only problem would be in the inside. We were going in more or less blind. However, I wasn’t worried. This wasn’t our first time in these situations.

I lithely grabbed one of the lowest branches, hauling myself up. The leather gloves stopped the rough bark from scraping my fingers. Standing in the branch, I prepared for the jump to the next branch up. Flexing my knees, I jumped, using the momentum to swing into a crouching position once my hands connected. Another jump, and I was just where I needed to be.

“How’s it going?” Cam asked from the van parked across the street.

“About to open the window. Now, shush.”

I sat down, my feet hanging off the branch and my back facing the house. Quickly making sure my knees were properly locked around the bark, I let myself fall back. I hung upside down, my hands and face just inches from the window, my legs sustaining my weight. I peeked into the house.

The hallway was empty. A narrow rug followed the wooden floor, and a nice painting hung from one of the walls. I eyed it, deciding it to inspect it before leaving. Maybe I would take it with me. I tried the window, finding it unlocked. Well, that made it considerably easier.

I slid it open, listening for any sounds. The house seemed to be dead quiet. I grabbed the top ledge of the window, and slowly loosened my legs. Soundlessly, I glided through the opening, landing softly on the thick rug.

“I’m in.” I breathed.

“Good.” Reach said. “Remember, you run into any trouble you say the magic words. We’ll create a distraction.”

The house smelled nice, a house well lived in. A beautiful sculpture of a lion stood in one of the hallway’s corners, and I ogled it sadly. It was too heavy for me to carry it out.

I walked to the end of the hallway, walking in the way I’d perfected long ago. Quick and soundless. I focused, trying to distinguish any sound. I peeked around the corner, coming into a big studio. There was a bookshelf that covered the entire wall, two desks that faced the windows, and a fireplace on the far corner with two sofas facing it. There was a picture on one of the desks, in which a couple was hugging amorously. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, I presumed.

I was about to move on to one of the two hallways connected to the room when my eyes caught on a section of the bookshelf. I approached it, scanning the volumes. I read the titles, pausing on one with Ernest Hemingway printed on the side. I pulled it out, a small sheen of dust floating away as I did so. For Whom the Bell Tolls. And it was a first edition!

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