Thief by C.L. Stone Read Free Book Online

take my hand, and dragged myself up. He wasn’t berating me. Was he not mad that I’d tried to steal from him? I guess technically I didn’t succeed, since all I had was a newspaper. What I really wanted to know was how he knew. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s nothing personal.”
    “I’m sorry to say it is,” he said. “At least for you. You’re not exactly a blind thief.”
    “Blind?”
    “You’re not sticking guns and knives in people’s faces. You’re not taking on old ladies, who probably would be easier targets. You pick targets that can defend themselves. Not to mention you don’t even bother with keeping all the money. No. Something tells me this is personal, or you wouldn’t be trying so hard to go unnoticed. A thief with morals.”
    I flinched again, taking a step back and holding up my hands. “How do you know about—”
    “You’re hard to find, Kayli Winchester. No, I take that back. Hard to keep tabs on is more like it. Slipping past four of our best guys. That’s something.”
    My body rattled and I took another step back. “You know me? And those guys?”
    He held out a hand, motioning to the open end of the alley back toward the street. “Can you trust me enough that we can talk to you without slipping off again? We won’t hurt you.”
    A black four-door truck appeared at the front of the alley. It was too much of a coincidence. It had to have been waiting for a signal from him.
    “I don’t think I should,” I said. I’d seen enough mob movies that started out like this. I didn’t want to end up wearing concrete shoes tonight. “Besides, I really need to get going.”
    “You mean your rent is due? That’s why you tried to steal my wallet, wasn’t it?”
    I stilled, not wanting to answer one way or another. I didn’t know who he was, and this could be my ride to jail from an undercover cop. Or worse.
    The old man smiled. “We just want to talk. And if you come with me, I’ll make sure the rent gets paid for a month. You don’t have to do anything. You just have to listen.”
    My eyes widened. He had to be crazy. “I’m not having sex with you.”
    He tilted his head back, laughing softly and shaking his head. “My god, no. Thanks, but I’m married.” He held up his hand, showing me the gold ring I’d noticed before. “Very happily, by the way.”
    “You’re going to pay my rent for a month and all we have to do is talk?” I asked, suspicious.
    “You don’t even have to do the talking.” He motioned to the car again, dug his hands into his pockets and started heading toward it. “Or don’t and go back to picking wallets. But you should know that there’s a team of cops on to you. You’re on a list of suspects they’re looking to pick up.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Who do you think called us?” He kept walking to the car, not waiting for me to respond.
    My heart raced. I wasn’t sure if what he said was true, but if he was part of the police department in some way, he’d know more than I would. I’d already known from the day before that I was running out of luck.
    I was also sure that this was more than some simple cop setup or mall security team.
    I shifted on my feet, unsure.
    Until I saw the door of the truck open as the old man approached. From inside pretzel boy leaned out from behind the steering wheel. His mismatched eyes looked right at me. He beckoned with those eyes and his hand, with the same commanding tone as if he’d spoken it out loud.
    I started walking toward the truck. If I was going to get kicked out of the hotel anyway, if I was going to go to jail anyway, I might as well see where this rabbit hole led to.
    Morbid curiosity.
    When I got to the truck, the old man held the passenger side door, and ushered for me to get in.
    “I can get in the back,” I said, feeling awkward taking the front seat when he was older. There was some politeness code in the South that you simply didn’t mess with.
    “I’m just here to direct you,” he