way to go. He’s going to stonewall if we confront him, and we need to search that old car.”
Her thoughts and emotions veered in a new direction, away from mooning over Nick and toward sniffing out the path of her missing brother like a hound dog on the scent. “I know Elliot. I’m sure this is it. He talked Jake into holding his stuff for him, and what better place to hide it than a vehicle no one will ever drive?”
“Jake’s such a good friend after all these years? Elliot would trust him?” He sounded dubious. She had to wonder if he had no friends he could count on.
“Yeah, I think he would. Jake’s bone-deep loyal. One time he got busted for holding Elliot’s stash and never ratted on him.” And neither had she. Maybe if she’d spoken up back then instead of always enabling Elliot to slip out of trouble, he wouldn’t be the man he was today—someone who refused to be held accountable for his own actions, someone who might get killed because of his own foolishness.
“All right, then. Stealth it is.”
They drove into town and parked down the block from the Greely house. Ames felt a little ridiculous slinking down a suburban street in her cat-burglar suit of a polyester waitress uniform with one of Nick’s dark jackets over it. They were actually about to break and enter, a felony if they were caught. This suddenly seemed extreme, as if they were playing at being spies like children rather than behaving in a grown-up, reasonable manner. Maybe they should simply talk to Jake and get him to let them search the car.
Ames walked a little slower as they snuck up the drive to the detached garage behind the house, but Nick forged ahead. He fiddled with the latch on the side window and beckoned her over. “Think you can wiggle through that?”
He cupped his hands, cradling her foot, and boosted her up. Ames wedged herself into the small opening and shimmied through like a manic squirrel. She dropped into the darkness inside, hitting something on the workbench with her foot and knocking it to the floor. The wrench, or whatever it was, hit with a loud clank. She cursed and held her breath, certain the house lights would come on at any moment and Jake would come rushing outside to find his Fortress of Solitude breached.
The garage was nearly pitch-black, only a bit of light from the small window illuminating the chaos of auto supplies inside. The scent of gasoline, oil and beer reminded her of those teen years when she’d occasionally encroached on the edges of her brother’s life. Ames threaded her way around old tires, an air compressor, a toolbox, and tripped over a stack of fan belts on her way to the door. She opened it, and Nick slipped inside.
Ames led the way to the Mustang. She followed the chassis around to the open hood and switched on the work lamp she’d noticed hanging over the engine earlier.
“Shh!” Nick hissed as if to quiet the brightness. He picked up an oily rag and draped it to hide most of the light, then got to work. The car door opened with a creak, and he slid inside.
Ames crawled into the back and started feeling underneath the front seats for hidden packages. All she found was an ice scraper and crumpled bags that had probably once held 1970s’ burgers.
She leaned over the front seat to watch Nick rifle through the glove box—too small to hold anything more than a few papers, but then maybe Elliot had taken the bulk of the cash with him wherever he’d skated off to. Nick’s search produced nothing but a dog-eared road atlas and the title papers for the vehicle.
“We need to get into the trunk,” he whispered.
“Check the ashtray for the key,” she suggested, but doubted it could be that easy. They’d probably have to crowbar the thing open. But when Nick slid the tray out, the key was nestled in the ash-encrusted interior. “Jackpot!”
Nick snatched up the key and hurried to the back of the automobile. She scrambled out of the car and followed him. If the door hinges creaked loudly, the trunk was even worse. It gave a painful squeal as it opened. Ames could see nothing in the dark interior and cursed herself for not thinking to bring a flashlight. Stealthy nighttime reconnaissance wasn’t her forte.
She stood beside Nick and felt around the jumbled contents, pushing aside