CHAPTER 13
As anticipated, Mikey walks me out, holding the door as I walk through with a promise to come back later once I’ve decided which piece I like the best.
The keys are in the ignition when I climb in, and as soon as the door is secured, a low voice growls from the backseat, “Hey baby, fancy meeting ye here.” Rooster. I’d know that Scottish lilt anywhere.
“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you climb back into our car,” Ryder says.
“If you idiots make me laugh, he’s going to get suspicious,” I hiss through clenched teeth—I hope it looks like a passable smile to Mikey. I wave to the sleaze ball, put the car in gear, and drive off down the highway.
The moment we’re out of sight of the building, Rooster yanks the blanket off their heads and shoves himself into the seat—the
