we were unobtrusive. Any headlights that swept across the front of her car would illuminate the two of us clearly. And anyone who knew anything about our family—which was to say, the entire island—might find that strange.
Eleanor had wanted to do this during the day, pointing out how unlikely it was for her to call on Scott during the evening. But judging by their last interaction, it was unlikely for her to call on him, period, and I needed to get across the alley and into Scott’s backyard unseen.
I hadn’t noticed a security system, the last time I’d been here. I’d looked out of habit, not because I’d planned on anything. Old teenage instincts died hard. But still, I didn’t want to take any chances. Which meant we had to time things perfectly.
“I just want to make sure. We need to be careful,” I said, in what I hoped was a placating voice.
“Oh, do we? And here I thought that breaking and entering was the kind of thing people did without any planning or forethought.” She fixed me with an unamused stare. “One doesn’t become mentally incompetent the day one turns seventy, you do realize that?”
“I just want to make sure you’re not going to ad lib or go off-plan.” I wouldn’t put it past her to think she knew better than I did. “We worked this out carefully and—”
“And after spending my entire life living alongside three generations of the insufferable Nash family, I think I’m capable of understanding how best to keep him talking and distracted.”
Eleanor calling someone else insufferable was a bit of a pot-kettle situation, if you asked me, but I let it pass.
“Okay, okay. Just remember that once I’m inside, I’ll need fifteen minutes to be safe. Twenty is better. And anything beyond that is—”
“Useful but not worth pushing if he seems to be growing suspicious,” Eleanor finished, rolling her eyes delicately.
Everything she did was delicate. It was, in a word, insufferable.
“He’s not going to grow suspicious,” she continued. “And he’s not going to brush me off. If there’s one thing I gained from your grandfather’s taste in friends, it is a social standing that someone like Scott Nash can’t ignore. He’ll stay occupied for as long as I want him to. Now,” she said, flexing her hands on the wheel, “if there’s nothing else, I suggest we stop stalling and get to work. Julian is waiting, remember.”
Julian had better be waiting. He still wasn’t happy about staying home for this, even after Eleanor had agreed to help, but since he didn’t have the social clout to keep Scott occupied, or the house-breaking skills I had acquired years ago, he wasn’t actually needed for this part of the plan.
It irked me that it had taken Eleanor’s input to convince Julian of those last points, but at least he’d finally agreed.
I unclicked my seatbelt, opened the door, and slid out, then ducked my head back down to peer into the car. Eleanor looked up at me expectantly.
“Well? What are you waiting for?”
It surprised me to realize I’d been about to wish her good luck, and tell her to be careful. Not just for my sake, but for her own. But the impulse faded under her unimpressed eyes.
“Nothing, I guess. See you on the other side.”
She gave me a tight smile, and I closed the door. She pulled away from the curb smoothly. I blew out a long breath.
She’d be fine. We’d both be fine. The plan was a good one.
Handily, Scott’s house backed up against this open lot, so it was easier to get to his backyard than it might have been otherwise. I ducked around the tree, then pushed between two leggy azaleas and darted across the alley to the edge of his property.
I crouched in the shadow of an overgrown pittosporum and surveyed the yard. Everything seemed calm. There was a light on in his kitchen, on the left side of the house, and one in what I assumed was a bedroom upstairs.
Scott’s study, which Julian said was in the back, right corner, was dark. A few scattered solar-powered lamps cast a golden glow on the patio that extended back from the house toward me, but aside from that, the yard was dark too.
Perfect.
I’d scoped it out last night, after leaving Julian’s. After all, there was no point in calling Eleanor and broaching the subject if Scott had motion-sensor lights or other security measures installed. But people on Summersea were trusting—even people who had