Read Where There's Fire (Panopolis Book 2) for Free Online Page A

amount of Zen I was channeling, he must have been really disturbed by the state of his shirt.
    “Open the door and we’ll dry them off inside the vault.”
    “But that will get coffee inside the locking mechanism!”
    Distantly I heard the front door open, and a few new voices enter. Tellers. We needed to move. “Here, give them to me.” Larry handed me the keys and I awkwardly cleaned them off with the end of my tie. “There, good as new.”
    “That wasn’t sanitary. You’re an older individual; you need to be more cautious about bacteria.”
    Well, at least my disguise was working. “I don’t plan on putting my tie in my mouth any time soon, so I think I’ll be okay. Go ahead and open the door.”
    “I . . . all right, then.” He started thumbing through the keys again.
    “Mr. Bries?” a familiar voice called down the hall. I winced. It was Wendy, who wasn’t supposed to be working today according to my surveillance and the fact that she’d loathed working weekends ever since the Pinball incident. “Are you back here? There’s a coffee cup on the floor in the lobby, is it— Oh!” She came around the corner and started, one hand going to her chest. “I didn’t know you were with a client!”
    “We have to get into the vault!” Larry cheerfully informed her.
    “I see.” She came a bit closer. “Can I bring you anything, Mr. . . .?”
    “Johnson,” I said, making my voice a bit hoarse. “No, I’m fine.”
    “Not even a chair? It seems like you might be having some trouble standing,” she said apologetically, glancing at my hand on Larry’s arm. I could see how it could be interpreted as using Larry as a prop. “You could wait in one of the offices while Mr. Bries retrieves your items.”
    “No, thank you.” I shook my head slightly, and silently prayed for Larry to find the damn key, fast. “I’ll be fine.”
    Just then, the door to the vault swung open. Larry hummed with satisfaction, stepped inside, and I followed him. Wendy left after another moment of hovering, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. We were in the clear.
    Random boxes, random boxes . . . “What are your favorite numbers, Larry?”
    “Oh, I love the primes,” he gushed. “So orderly, but so unique!”
    An entire category of numbers was his favorite. I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Okay then, I need to see inside box . . .” I cast my gaze around. “Twenty-Nine.”
    “An excellent choice.” He grabbed a new key, then used it and his thumbprint—the boxes were a lot smaller than the door, a whole palm wouldn’t fit—to pull Twenty-Nine out.
    “Great.” Still holding him with one hand, I opened my briefcase and laid it on the floor. “Set that in here for me, please.”
    Larry made a face. “That would leave a hole.”
    And of course that was distressing to him. “You can empty it in there and put it back, then.” Successful heist jobs, they were all about compromise. Larry opened the box and poured a bundle of passports, some euros and a gold watch into the briefcase.
    “Thank you,” I told him.
    “My pleasure.” And it looked like it was. Given enough calm feelings, Larry seemed to appreciate being told what to do. That was so helpful.
    “How about box . . . One Fifty-One?”
    “Beautiful symmetry,” Larry agreed as he retrieved it. This one held a bunch of baggies of gemstones, separated out by color. Score. He added them to the briefcase, replaced the box, and returned to me expectantly.
    I glanced around and smirked. “How about number Sixty-Nine?”
    Larry’s back stiffened, and he glowered at me. “Don’t be vulgar, sir.”
    “Sorry. Um . . . Sixty-Seven?”
    “Better.” He went to open it, and naturally—naturally—that was when Wendy reappeared in the hallway.
    “Mr. Bries? Mr. Johnson? Is everything all right?”
    “Perfectly all right,” I said, maintaining my composed front even though my knees felt weak.
    “Really?” Her eyes narrowed. “Mr. Bries, what happened