Page 105 of The Diamond in the Rough

Hart pulled a radio off his hip. “Tony, the kid says there’s something up there that’s set to notify the asshat if the attic ladder gets pulled down.”

“Does he know what it is?” came Raj’s voice out of the radio.

I shook my head.

“No,” Hart replied. “I’m gonna ask him to find out, though.” His lavender eyes were fixed on me, and I knew what I had to do.

The camerashe’d hidden would notify him and send images to his phone from anywhere.

“Cameras,”I gasped out. “Hidden ones. They send pictures to his phone.”

“Fuck!” Hart swore, then repeated what I said into the radio.

“Shit!” came Raj’s crackly voice over the radio. “Henson—” Whatever he was going to tell Agent Henson got cut off when he let go of the radio button.

I took a deep breath, although I couldn’t stop my racing heart. I didn’t know what it meant that Jennings knew we were in his house, but it couldn’t be good.

Even before Hart turned back to me, I was reaching out my hand.

But the copswouldn’t be able to crack this safe. He’d spent a lot of money on it—and if anyone tried to cut into it, carefully planted explosives would destroy what was inside. Everything inside. The money. The guns. This.

Turn the dial four times left, stop on seventeen.

Three times right, stop on six.

Four times left again, stop on fifty-two.

One time right, pull, one time left to seventeen again, then push.

I looked at Hart,then mimicked what I’d just gotten from his thoughts, my hands shaking and my heart hammering away like a trapped bird.

The safe clicked heavily, and a gentle tug let me pull the door open.

“Fuckin’nice,” Hart breathed, stepping closer.

I moved to let him look inside.

“Jesusfuck!” he hissed. “This thing is fuckingrigged.”

“If the door isn’t opened correctly or if someone tries to cut into it, they’d blow up the contents,” I told him.

“Fucking hell, Rayn,” Hart hissed. “You don’t just open a goddamn safe withfucking explosives in it!”

I flushed. “I did it correctly,” I said softly.

“And if you hadn’t, you’d be missing your hands—or worse!”

Part of me wondered if that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. If I had prosthetic hands I wouldn’t make accidental contact with nearly as many thoughts. “I didn’t do it wrong, though,” I replied softly.

“Whatever you’ve got, Hart, wrap it up,” Raj’s deep voice came from behind me, and I jumped a little, not having heard him approach. “We don’t want to be here when this shithead does whatever he’s planning to with that footage.”

“Did you find the cameras?” Hart asked

“Henson got three,” came the response, clipped and clearly annoyed. “Pretty sure that’s all of them. Dammit.”

“You didn’t know,” Hart told him. “No way you would have.”

Raj glared at him. “I should have checked,” he replied, and I realized that he was annoyed at himself. Was blaming himself for not having found something that nobody should have expected to be there.