Aiden made it to the bus stop across from the museum just in time to catch the downtown connector. He found a lonely seat by the window as another police car pulled up, lights flashing and hunched down despite knowing there was no way anyone would ever connect him to what happened. A fire engine roared past, headed to the distant parking lot and the glow of flames, all which remained of his night's work. He ignored it, sparing one more long, hopeful look as the bus pulled away, knowing it was pointless and, despite the unreality of it all, his parents weren't coming back.
At least, not without his help.
Aiden took the precaution of switching buses at several stops in a mindless maze, losing himself in a jagged circuit crisscrossing the city to be certain his route couldn't be followed. He knew he was being paranoid, but the familiar patterns of his training were the only things keeping him focused at the time and he refused to fall apart again until he had more information.
By the time he arrived at the quiet street where Lawrence kept his bakery, the sky was fading from deep black to softer gray and the smell of early baking was already in the air. Aiden made his way to the service entrance and took the fire escape to the second floor, making use of his lock pick. He made a quick survey of the surrounding alley to be sure he wasn't observed before ducking inside.
The smell of bread fresh from the oven was stronger in the hallway above the kitchen. He paused, listening to the chatter of conversation in the shop below, the soft hum of air conditioning. The darkened hallway was empty. He moved forward, careful to avoid the pressure sensor in the floor in front of the stairway on his way to the other side of the building. When he reached the plain, brown door at the back of the hall, the newly risen sun was just shining over the edge of the city and through the dusty windows.
It was the shaft of new sunlight that saved him. The floating dust motes caught the edge of a red beam running parallel to the floor, about a foot from the faded carpet.
Aiden's heart clenched. Why had Lawrence added new security and why hadn't he told his best freelancers about it? Anger flared for a moment as Aiden imagined somehow the fat baker knew what happened to his parents, and this was all some elaborate scheme. But his emotions settled as logic took over once again.
Why would Lawrence risk his biggest money makers? It didn't make sense. Which meant there was more to this than Aiden knew. And the old fence was afraid of someone.
Tremaine? Aiden shuddered softly. Maybe. His fear whispered to him, warned him. And this time Aiden listened.
He crouched and looked up toward the ceiling through the sunbeam, but found no more lasers. Aiden stepped over the sensor, pausing with one hand up, ready to knock. He didn't know why he hesitated then or what compelled him to eavesdrop through the thin door before making his presence known, but he had been taught to trust his instincts at all times, and his gut was telling him something wasn't quite right with any of this.
Aiden drew a long, deep breath and held it, closing his eyes as he pressed one ear to the door, focusing on slowing his heartbeat to calm. His body silent, he heard Lawrence's voice so clearly he almost jumped away from the door.
"I'm telling you, they'll be here!" The portly baker-sans-fence's voice shook a little.
"The police are all over the museum." The dark, smooth voice could only be their employer, Tremaine. "They failed. That much is obvious. Perhaps they were caught. I was assured this team is the best."
"They are!" Lawrence sounded in lather. Aiden could almost see the fat man's hands flapping as they did when he was overexcited, his giant belly jiggling from the motion. "My source says the artifact is gone from the museum. They may have just encountered a snag. I'm sure they are on their way now."
There was a long silence. Aiden released his held breath through his open mouth and drew another as Tremaine spoke.
"They had better be. I want that artifact, Lawrence. If you or they have double crossed me!"
"I would never!" Lawrence cut in.
"!I assure you the consequences will be dire. That artifact has no value but to me. Are we clear?"
"Very." The quaver in Lawrence's voice was stronger. "Will you wait, then?"
"No. Tremaine's voice traveled, the sound of his footsteps drawing away. Aiden's mind followed him through the familiar cluttered office to the back door. "But I expect you to contact me the moment you have the item in your possession."
"Of course," Lawrence said. "The very instant."
Aiden heard the other door open and close, the whoosh of Lawrence's great bulk as he sagged into his padded leather desk chair and the crackle of plastic as the big baker opened and ate one of his favorite chocolates to fortify him.
Aiden leaned back, heart speeding up, breath going back to normal. He waited for a moment, trying to decide what to do.
If I give Lawrence the prize, I may never find out what happened, Aiden thought. Which is completely out of the question. On the other hand, maybe Tremaine can tell me what this thing is.
He was lost despite his careful training, gripped in indecision, on his own with a job to do. Panic threatened to return just as Aiden had a flash of Antoinette's smiling face and heard Eric's voice in his head.
If in doubt, work it out, his father said. If it doesn't feel right, it isn't.
His heart settled and he nodded once to himself. I can't trust Lawrence or Tremaine to tell me what I need to know, he thought. I've got to play this right. Just enough anger and confusion and innocence to get Lawrence to talk. He might be a bit old for the scared kid act at sixteen, but he wasn't sure Lawrence!clueless and kid stupid!would know that. For the first time since everything went bad, he grinned to himself, if weakly.
Stealing wasn't the only valuable lesson his parents taught him.
***