Innocent as Sin

56

Phoenix

Sunday

With a grim kind of pleasure, Kayla pulled into the parking space marked “Employee of the Month” and shut down the engine of the new rental car. Faroe and Rand had both insisted that she drive a “neutral” vehicle. In Phoenix, it didn’t get much more neutral than a white SUV.

At the head of the parking lot, a bush covered with red flowers just made for a hummingbird’s beak was an explosion of color.

“Enjoy the view,” she said to Rand. “Come tomorrow, I bet they revoke my parking privileges.”

“Embezzlement,” Rand said.

She rolled her eyes.

“That’s the word I’ve been trying to remember,” he said. “It’s when an employee diverts an employer’s money. Losing your gold-star parking space is going to be the least of the fallout.”

She reached over and kissed him on the corner of his unsmiling mouth. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Good,” he shot back. “Then maybe you can explain it to me.”

“It’s really simple,” she said, spacing each word, speaking slowly. “I’m going to shift the money in Bertone’s correspondent account into an account at the United Arizona Bank. The account was my grandmother’s. I’ve kept it open, a kind of safety valve. I put my travel funds there.”

“Kiss it good-bye.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just take it and run.” She nuzzled his chin and fanned her eyelashes outrageously. “Would you come with me?”

Rand stared at her for a moment, then gave up and laughed. “Hell, why not? Anywhere but Camgeria. The San Juan Islands in Washington would be good. The worst of winter is over. Maybe the FBI won’t look for you on a nameless islet with no electricity.”

“Do you mean that?”

He pulled her close for a hard kiss.

When he finally released her, she blew out a deep breath. “Hoo-yah. You mean it.”

“Sure do. You?”

“Oh, yeah.” She reached for her purse on the backseat.

“What in hell-?” he said suddenly.

She turned and looked out the windshield. A dark, strikingly large hummingbird was hovering around the bush directly in front of the car. As the bird turned in the sunlight, its vivid green gorget flashed, setting off the distinct white spot behind its eye.

“Magnificent,” she said. “Wow.”

“Pretty, too.”

“No, that’s its name, the magnificent hummingbird. They’re one of the biggest and rarest, but we see them regularly in Arizona.”

“I wish I could bug him,” Rand said.

“What?”

“It’d be easier to keep an eye on you.”

The bird zoomed off, returned, hovered, zoomed, and vanished.

Rand focused on the glass wall of the ten-story bank building. “Which one is your office?”

“Third floor, third from the corner,” she said, pointing it out. “Foley’s is the corner. Other private bankers are between.”

“No lights on.”

“Bankers’ hours. Gotta love ’em. No weekends, no holidays.”

“Turn your lights on as soon as you get to the office,” he said. “Turn them off when you leave. You get five minutes coming, five minutes in the office, and five minutes to get back here. Any longer and I’m kicking over a beehive. Got it?”

“Um, yeah. Five minutes up. Lights on. Five minutes with computer. Lights off. Five minutes back. Or you go postal.”

“Believe it.”

She looked at him and believed. “Start counting.”

He reached for his door at the same time she reached for hers.

“No,” she said urgently. “The weekend guards are off-duty Phoenix PD. They’re authorized to carry live ammunition. They don’t cut slack for anyone, not even sweet young things like me.”

He looked at her across the console. “What’s my cell number?”

“It’s number one on the speed dial Faroe gave me along with the car.”

Rand closed his eyes and saw his brother’s blood.

Everywhere.

“Come back to me, Kayla.”

She brushed her hand over his cheek, his lips. Then she grabbed her purse and walked quickly to the bank entrance.

This will work.

It has to.