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options, Ana. Don’t worry about us. Take care of Mom.”
    The moment she killed the call, Jake went off. “What the fuck are you thinking?”
    “I’m thinking I’d like to salvage as much from this mess as I can. The store is going to get its gems back, Terence’s killer is going to be apprehended, and I’m not going to take the finder’s fee from the insurance company for obvious reasons. Putting Eric and Frankie in jail isn’t going to bring the injured parties any more justice or restitution than that.”
    She grabbed his phone from his lap and took the address of the meet from his text messages and typed it into the GPS.
    He glared at her. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
    “Yes. Think about it, Jake. Think hard. When all’s said and done, we’ll go from there.”
     

     
    The meet was at a rundown motel in a depressed, forgotten corner of Atlantic City. It seemed worlds away from the boardwalk and tourist mecca. The signs and architecture of the buildings were decades past their prime. Time and the sun had faded what color might have distinguished features before.
    Ana wondered if her mother knew this place from its heyday. What had led Rick here? The convenience of exterior walkways and parking directly in front of the room doors? Was that enough to negate the fact that the bank was on the far side of town?
    Whatever the reason, she’d valet parked her car at the Mondego Resort for safekeeping before picking up a rental to get to the dive motel. Then she and Jake had split up—he waited in the car down the street, while she holed up in a dingy room that smelled like an ashtray and old sweat. They waited for the call from Frankie that would put everything in motion.
    “Room 105,” he said the second she answered her cell phone.
    “All right,” Ana said. “I’m going to head out with the ice bucket. I’ll be nearby as you approach the door. Go up alone and make him come outside. Tell him Eric’s watching from a safe distance and has the diamonds. If Rick wants to prove his trustworthiness, he’ll step out. He’ll probably leave Mom in the room for safekeeping. Jake’ll drive around back to the bathroom window and see if he can get to her. You with me so far?”
    “Yes.”
    Ana appreciated hearing the quiet strength in her brother’s voice. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
    She didn’t have to tell him not to look at her too long or too often, or worse, not look at her at all—anything that would point her out as suspicious. Frankie was a pro. Shoving her gun into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back, Ana yanked her top over it and grabbed the ice bucket. She left the room, gratefully breathing in the fresh air outside.
    Texting Jake as she went, Ana walked across the crumbling parking lot of the U-shaped single-story motel. She felt her pulse steady when Frankie knocked on the motel room door—she was never calmer then when a game was in play.
    “Jesus, Rick,” she heard Frankie say when the door opened. “You look like shit.”
    “Fucking bastard! You cut me out! Cut Terry out! Where the fuck is Monroe? Where’re my fucking diamonds?”
    Ana slipped into an alcove that led to a maintenance/housekeeping door and pressed her back up against the wall. Rick was erratic; his breathing was heavy and his voice far too loud. It made Ana nuts to think of her mom having to spend the last few hours with him and as the conversation between Rick and her brother progressed, she grew more and more uneasy.
    “Don’t fuck with me, Miller, you slimy piece of shit,” Rick snapped. “Do I look like an idiot?
Do I?
I’m not going outside and swapping diamonds where anyone can shoot pictures! Tell Monroe to get his ass over here now!”
    “What the hell do I need pictures for? If I had the heat out here, you’d already be done. You’ve got a kidnapped woman in your room and you’re a murderer.”
    “Bullshit. I never—”
    “Terry’s dead,” Frank said flatly.
    The