Free Holy Rollers by Rob Byrnes Page A

from the counter where he was mixing a vodka-cranberry, shaking his head. “I knew it. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist horning in on the job.”
    “Yeah, well…” Grant pulled a battered wooden chair out from the table, scraping it over the scuffed linoleum, and sat. “She doesn’t think we can do this alone. But I think she really just wants to keep an eye on her money.”
    “I think it’s more than that. I think she likes being in on the jobs.”
    Grant cocked his head toward his partner. “You think she likes pulling jobs? Really?”
    Chase stirred his drink for too long a time before answering. “I do. I mean, she complains a lot, but you can see it in her eyes.” He stopped stirring and, drink in hand, joined Grant at the table. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
    “How’s that?”
    “No matter how we try to cover, it’s gonna look strange for a group of men to move into a suburban house in an upscale neighborhood on a short-term rental. You, me, Farraday…Leonard. If a few women are in the mix, we’ll have a better chance of not attracting unwanted attention.”
    “Or attracting more,” Grant observed. “Lisa’s all right, but drama follows Mary Beth around.”
    Chase took a sip of his vodka-cranberry. “You just don’t like Mary Beth.”
    That much was true. Just thinking about Mary Beth brought a dull ache to Grant’s head.
    “It’s mutual.”
    “True. But you’ve worked well together in the past. And she’s smart—”
    “She’s mean.”
    “Smart but mean.” Chase took another sip. “Okay, whatever. The fact is that she could be an asset to our team.”
    Grant was noncommittal. “Maybe.”
    Chase decided to leave that track, since there was no way he’d be able to change Grant’s mind about Mary Beth. Certainly not that night; maybe not ever. So he tried another approach: grim acceptance of the reality of the situation.
    “Beyond everything else, we can’t really stop them, can we? Not if we want Lisa to bankroll the job.”
    “Okay.” Grant sighed and tried to shake his concern away. “We still have the same game plan, just with two more players.”
    “Exactly.” Chase nodded, encouraging Grant down that path of acceptance. “Think of them as backup. Just in case.”
    Lost in thought, Grant stared at the battered surface of the kitchen table. “Now what I need to do is figure out who to get on the inside of the church.”
    “I just assumed I’d be going in,” said Chase.
    “You, yeah,” Grant agreed. “But we’ll need someone else. Maybe even two more people. We’re looking at a long-term project, and we need to do it right.”
    Chase sipped his drink. “Not you or Farraday.”
    Grant scoffed. “Of course not. People look at us and the first thing they think is ‘guilty.’ Even if we ain’t done anything.”
    “Lisa?”
    Grant thought about that, and then thought better of it. “Nah. She’s got a big mouth.” Another very good reason popped into his head. “Not to mention she’s our banker. If something goes wrong and she gets arrested, we’re screwed.”
    “Yeah. The bank’s not much good when the bank’s in jail.”
    “Exactly.”
    Chase tried to think of a name from their loose association of confederates who might prove helpful. “What about Nick Donovan?”
    “No. We bring him in, we get that mother of his, too.”
    “Chrissy Alton?”
    “No. She’s great at working the department store scam, but she’s not right for this kind of thing. If we ever hit Bloomingdale’s again, we’ll call her.”
    “Michael May?”
    “In jail.”
    “Really?”
    “Seven to ten.”
    “Hadn’t heard that.” Chase shrugged. It was an occupational hazard. “Jamie Brock?”
    “ Hell no.” Grant shook his head forcefully to emphasize the point. “He’s the last person I ever want to work with again.”
    Chase looked up at the flaking paint on the ceiling. “We’ve gone through the roster. Except…nah.”
    “Except nah who ?”
    “Except