Free Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1) by Heather Day Gilbert Page A

and his hair did, too.
    He smiled, his face only half-lit by the dim bulb. "Let's get to work," he said.
    But his lingering smile said something else.
     
    ****
     
    They had gone through three bins stuffed with Christmas paraphernalia Mom had probably forgotten she owned. There was only one left.
    Ace dug into it, retrieving a worn leather baseball mitt and baseball. "What's this?"
    She leaned in for a closer look. "This was probably the baseball stuff Dad gave Brandon. But Brandon never used it—he was born to play soccer, he said. Tough head and all that."
    He laughed, fingering the laces. "This is really old-school. Wouldn't my dad love to see this!"
    A brainstorm hit her. "I can ask Brandon, but I know my brother, and he couldn't care less about those things. I think you'd be welcome to take it all."
    Resting the mitt and ball in his lap, he plunged an arm into the tissue-paper packed bin, retrieving a plastic bag containing a pile of baseball cards. "These too, you think?"
    "Oh sure. Hang on—let me text Brandon."
    She did, and just as she suspected, received a quick reply:
    Brandon: No problem, give them to the bodyguard. Just symbolic of how little Dad cared about my preferences. Now someone else can enjoy that junk.
    Not exactly eloquent, but honest. "They're all yours," she said.
    Nodding, Ace began to pull the tissue paper out. "Looks like this is it...whatever this is at the bottom..." He extracted an oversized purple stuffed panda bear.
    "Poopsie!" she exclaimed.
    "Excuse me?"
    "I mean, that's Poopsie. My purple panda Poopsie. I wondered where he went!" She grabbed the stuffed animal, dust sifting into the air around them. "Dad won him for me at the fair one year. Molly was so jealous that she didn't get one. She made Brandon win her a real goldfish instead, then it wound up dying a week later."
    He laughed. A timer on his watch beeped and he anxiously glanced at it. "Sorry, but I need to get moving. The police unit will be showing up any minute now. And I want to help you get down the stairs, even though I know you can probably do it yourself. Am I right in thinking you want Poopsie to accompany you?"
    She grinned. "Sure thing."
    By the time Mom came in asking about the police car, the attic was closed up and Ace was heading out the door. He waved, promising to return as soon as he could.
    It was only then she let it sink in: there was no bank heist money in the house. Maybe there never was any money. What kind of daughter was she to suspect her father stole it in the first place?
     
    ****

8
     
    The crumbling roof on the faded stucco building looked ready to collapse. Ace was glad he was the first to show up, so he could better examine the layout. Kicking open the splintered wooden door, he saw he wasn't the first to use this place for nefarious purposes. Beer cans, cigarette butts, and a moldy mattress decorated the interior.
    After checking the large room, he situated himself toward the back, near a window with no glass. He could bail out that way if he had to, even though it would be quite a drop into the creek below. He had just finished checking his guns when the door burst open.
    His boss was alone, or so it seemed. Peering out the front, Ace could only see one black car. Probably had a driver inside, maybe one or two extra gunmen at the most.
    "Ace Calhoun. My favorite ex-inmate. How ya doin'?"
    He hated the false charm this man always showed. From his too-toothy grin to his all-American good looks, he was a total fake.
    Fake enough to fool the FBI, in fact. And his partner, Sean McClure.
    "Jim." He nodded.
    "You been enjoying time with that McClure redhead? Always a bit of a spitfire, that one. Kind of nosy about my visits to her dad's boat. Good ol' Sean, wouldn't he roll in his grave if he saw me alive? He was so sure someone had whacked me."
    Ace's stomach turned at the casual way Jim Chrisman spoke of his deceased FBI partner. He was becoming more and more convinced that Sean hadn't been in on