Free A Beautiful Heist by Kim Foster

now.”
    “Sophie, please. Spare us the hocus-pocus,” said Mel. She slid onto a bar stool, pushing aside the take-out containers and unopened mail that adorned the countertop. She slid off her dark-framed glasses and buried them in the mound of blond, curly hair on top of her head. “The whole thing sounds like bad business, top to bottom.” She lifted her wineglass and took a sip. She gave me a level stare over the rim of her glass. “Cat, don’t you think it’s time to stop all this? Isn’t it time to look for a new job? A new career?”
    “You know I can’t do that,” I said quietly.
    Mel and Sophie have been my closest friends since before we could walk. We all grew up in the same neighborhood and still lived near one another. My girls both knew the truth about what I did and had for a long time.
    After my sister died, I tore myself apart with guilt and grief. Mel and Sophie knew something more was going on than what I was telling my parents. They took me aside and I told them everything, all about what Penny had been trying to do and my secret little hobby. Had I been a little older than fourteen when all this came out, I never would have told them. I would never take such a ridiculous risk now.
    But they’d been by my side ever since, though I knew they wished I would choose a safer—and somewhat less illicit—line of work.
    The two of them would never have dreamed of breaking the law themselves. But they didn’t hold it against me. Or, at least, they hadn’t up till now.
    “Let me ask you this,” Mel demanded. “How will you know when it’s time to let that go? How will you know if you’ve done enough, so you can stop feeling guilty about Penny?”
    “I’ll just know.”
    “And do you really think you would leave it all after that?” asked Sophie.
    I frowned into my wineglass. That—I didn’t know.
    “Know what I think?” said Mel. “I don’t think you’re capable of leaving it, of not being a thief. I think it’s too much a part of you. And I think there’s something that keeps drawing you into it. Something more than what happened to your sister.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I don’t know. But there’s got to be something. Really, Cat, any normal person would have gotten out long ago.”
    “Oh, thanks. So I’m abnormal now?”
    “What makes you use the word now?”
    “Ha. Funny.”
    I looked at my two girlfriends. They only wanted the best for me. “Okay, fine,” I said. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll try to forget about this job.”
    Traffic sounds floated up and over my balcony, into my living room. The city was coming to life for the evening.
    “Why don’t we get out of here?” Mel said abruptly. “If we hurry, we can get to Bar None for a drink before happy hour ends.”
    “Good idea. I need a distraction. Just let me get changed.”
    I darted into the bedroom. While I was digging around in my closet I called out to my friends in the kitchen. “Hey, Mel! I need my black sandals, the ones with the rhinestones and the killer heel—can you grab them for me?” I flopped onto the bed, struggling into my dark, super-skinny jeans.
    “Uh, sure,” Mel said. “Where are they?”
    “The oven.” I stuffed lip gloss and some cash into my handbag.
    Momentarily, her head popped around the bedroom door frame. “I’m sorry—I don’t think I heard you . . . . Did you say the oven?”
    “Yes.”
    She didn’t move, staring at me with concern.
    “Forget it,” I said, sighing with exasperation. I walked briskly past her to the kitchen. I opened the oven door with a creak. Inside was a neat line of several pairs of shoes. I grabbed the sandals and closed the door, turning around to see Mel staring at me. A smirk grew on her face.
    “What?” I said defensively. “I ran out of closet space. Besides, it’s not like I use the oven for anything.”
    “Good point.”
    Then, there was a knock at my door.
    “I’ll get it,” said Mel, striding toward the door. I frowned,