“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked over his shoulder, curious what Lizzie’s response would be.

“They won’t fall for my Oscar-worthy performance and we can’t get in,” she answered.

“That’s not the worst. What’s the worst that could happen if we do get in?”

“The medallion buyer is home and you can’t steal it back?”

He shook his head. Even if Dix was home, Con could probably get it, unless the guy was asleep with the thing under his pillow. He’d taken many items from rooms where people slept, though.

“You could get shot?” she suggested.

“I can defend myself. I think the worst that could happen is that the medallion isn’t there, and this was a waste of time,” he said. “Making this a low risk endeavor.”

“Very optimistic. I’m still not sure we’re going to get past that guard,” Lizzie said.

“We will. That’s the easiest barrier we’re going to face tonight.”

“Can’t we just do the same thing we did earlier? They already think I’m Dave’s sister and let me in once.”

“It’s an option, but not my favorite,” he said. “What if Dave or Sarah Rollins happened to leave, and the guard asked how the surprise went when his sister showed up this morning?”

“I see your point. They could all be on alert for the scam.”

He nodded, watching a beat-up Honda pull in and circle around the entrance, pulling into a small area where a golf cart and a roving security truck were parked.

“But I think we have the changing of the guard now.” Yep, the new arrival had a uniform on. “Get ready to roll.”

He turned to glance at Lizzie, smiling at how bad she looked with bloodshot eyes from drops of shampoo and her makeup smudged and smeared. “Thanks for taking one for the team.”

“Vas your name again, shweetie?” She slurred the words in classic drunk-speak, giving him a loopy smile. “ ’Cause you’re kinna cute.” She winked a red eye at him.

He turned on the engine and headed out onto the road, watching the new guard enter the small gatehouse. He continued to the next intersection, turned around, and drove south, just in time to see the first guard get in his car and drive off. After one more pass, Con pulled in as Lizzie slumped against his back, her face turned away from the guardhouse.

The young man stepped out with his clipboard, and Con leaned forward.

“All right, I think we can do this now- Oh, you’re a different guy.” Con feigned surprise. “The other guard let us in about fifteen minutes ago, but I had to take her out to the bushes to…” He opened his mouth and mimed throwing up, whispering the rest with a thumb pointed to his passenger. “She’s in really bad shape.”

The guard looked hard at her, trying to see around to the other side of the bike by standing on his toes and not leaving the entrance to the little guardhouse.

“She lives here?”

“That’s what she says.”

“Who is she?”

“No clue, pal. I just pulled her off a bar stool at Friday’s because she was about to be attacked by every horny dude in the place. This is my random act of kindness for the day,” he added, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t let you in without a name.”

He shrugged. “Then she’s all yours, buddy. Hope you have an empty trash can, in case she pukes again.”

The guard made a face. “Can’t you, uh, get her…” He cleared his voice. “Miss, can you turn around?”

Con felt her head slowly lift, then plop down in the other direction.

“Hi, honey.” She dragged the word out and Con could feel her drunken smile against his back. “Where’s Mikey? Did he go home already?”

The guard frowned at Con. “I never saw her before.”

“I never saw you before,” Lizzie said, straining to lift her head and pointing a wobbly finger at him. “And I never saw him before.” The finger poked at Con’s shoulder. “And you never-”

“What’s your address?” he asked.

“My address? Umm…” She dragged the sound out. “It has a six in it, and the street is River Run.” She giggled. “It’s all River Run, so that’s kinna dumb, huh?”

The guard’s frown deepened. “Then how you gonna find your house?”

“I’ll know it when I see it. It’s my parents’ house- and, oh fuck, are they gonna be mad.”

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Liz.”

“Your last name.”

Con said, “I think she said her last name was Dix.”

“Maybe I said I like dicks,” she said with a drunken tease. She tried to lean closer and almost wobbled off.

“Mr. Dix left an hour ago,” the guard said, flipping through papers on a clipboard.

“Thank God!” Lizzie said. “He freakin’ hates when I drink.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Con said wryly, sharing a look with the guard. “If you can’t let her in, I understand, man. But I’m leavin’ her here because, seriously, she’s about to fall off the back and you can have the freaking lawsuit, not me.”

The young guard shook his head and reached for the button that lifted the gate. “Just get her home, and don’t tell anyone I did this.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back if she can’t find her house.”

The guard nodded, clearly hoping that didn’t happen.

“All right, sweetheart, hang on. We’re taking you home now, nice and slow.” Con moved ahead as the gate was raised for him. “Nice work, Ms. Dare.”

She squeezed his waist a little. “And we found out Dix isn’t home. That was brilliant.”

“Just because he left doesn’t mean no one’s home,” Con warned. “But it’s a good piece of information to have.”

Along with a lot of other random facts that resided in his memory about Gerry Dix. The guy wasn’t married, and his lovers weren’t exactly the kind that spent the week with him in his winter home. Knowing his clients’ weaknesses had been an important, sometimes life-saving, part of his former job.

Gerry’s house was completely dark but for a few small landscaping lights. Con spotted a house under construction two lots away, with two Dumpsters in the unfinished driveway.

He pulled the bike between them, hidden enough so that it wouldn’t be seen by someone driving by unless they were looking for it. Still, Lizzie could see the entire property around Dix’s house.

“Give me your cell phone, Lizzie.” He programmed his number into speed dial as he talked. “Your job, your only job”-he added a sharp look-“is to warn me if someone is coming anywhere near that house.” He finished the program, tested it, and his cell phone vibrated. “If our target comes home or a guard goes to check the house, you press one and alert me. I will get out however I can, and make my way behind the next house and come up behind you. If you have to move for any reason, circle the lake, then come right back here. If that’s the case, press number two on the phone before you do.”

He tested that one, and a different rhythm of vibrations buzzed in his pocket.

“What if Dix comes home, goes right in the garage, and you’re stuck?”

“I won’t be if you press one. That’ll alert me.”

She drew back, shaking her head. “You really can’t just go to the door, flash a badge, and demand he give it to you?”

“And have him alert Flynn Paxton with one phone call?”

“Okay. It’s just… dangerous.”

“You just do what you need to do out here.” He wiped some of the makeup under her right eye. “By the way, you’re cute when you’re drunk.”

She grinned. “So maybe I have a second career as an undercover government agent.”

“Maybe.”

He stepped away from the bike, turning sideways to get between it and the Dumpster as she slid into the driver’s seat and peered at the house.

“Con, what if someone’s home?” she asked. “Do you have a Plan B?”

It was no problem for him, just a nuisance. “As long as they’re asleep, I’m fine.”

“And if they’re awake?”

Still not really a problem for an accomplished thief. “There’d be a light visible. My gut says Dix is out for the evening.” And really stupid about security, considering he was a fine-art collector. “We just have to hope he didn’t take his new medallion with him. Stay alert.”