Another jealous twinge. Ruthlessly extinguished.
What’s wrong with me lately?
“Door number three.” Tory tapped the lock. “Shelton. Work your magic, please.”
“At least I got a ‘please’ this time.”
They switched places. But Shelton had barely lifted a finger before stepping back and shaking his head. “Sorry, folks. No can do. This is a Granit closed-shackle padlock, not some BS school-locker model. High security design, too. This sucker uses an ABUS Plus disc cylinder with two hundred and fifty thousand key variations. It can be picked, but I need different tools. I only carry the basics on my key chain.”
Tory chewed her lower lip. I could practically see her mind racing.
I stepped up to examine the locked bin. It was old and battered, its color morphed from pewter to a dingy reddish brown.
My flaring eyes traced the rusty metal door. Noted the decaying hinges.
“Okay.” Tory spoke aloud as she worked through ideas. “We need some kind of cutters. The padlock looks solid, but maybe if—”
“Relax.”
Planting my feet against the side of the bin, I gripped the door handle with both hands and jerked backward.
Nothing. The metal held.
Digging deeper, I closed my eyes. Tugged again.
The steel whined, but refused to give.
“So it’s like that.” I slid my feet up until I was practically hanging sideways.
“Take it easy, slugger.” Hi drew a hand across his neck. “Know when to say when.”
“I’m just getting warmed up.”
Deep breath.
A growl escaped my lips as I wrenched with every ounce of strength in my body, willing the door to move.
Creeeeeeak.
CRACK!
I flew backward, skidded across the concrete floor, and crashed into Hi’s legs.
Hi went down like a bowling pin, knocking over a bucket beside the closest ATV. Something brown and sticky oozed onto his checkerboard shoes.
“I’m cursed!” he moaned. “These are limited-edition Vans.”
SNUP.
My flare vanished.
Losing the power was always a drag. Normal human senses seemed almost a punishment. Like some part of me died. I hated the feeling.
It took a moment to realize I still gripped the bin door in my hands.
Flipping it aside, I tried to clear the cobwebs.
“Whoa!” Shelton offered me a hand, golden light fading from his eyes. “Nice job, Hulkster.”
I shrugged, still woozy. “Simplest solution.”
A glance at Tory. She was beaming at me with normal emerald-green irises.
I felt my cheeks flush. “Help me up, Devers. I nearly broke my neck.”
“What is this gunk?” Hi was wiping his shoes with a dirty rag. “Not cool.”
His flare was gone, too. Why do they go out as one?
“Hey, guys?” Shelton slipped on his prescription specs and pointed to the now-open bin. “Moment of truth.”
“Wait!” Hi scrambled to his feet, oily sneakers squeaking on the concrete. “This is my game show!”
Hi charged up the steps. His upper body disappeared inside the container. I heard rustling noises, then he reappeared with a MacBook in one hand and modem in the other. “Anyone wanna play some Halo?”
“Oh, snap!” Shelton started dancing Gangnam style. “Somebody get that girl a Twinkie! Hell, give her a whole box!”
We ran to Hi, who started handing down hardware. Laptop. Server. Microscope. Centrifuge. The dollar value rapidly climbed into the tens of thousands.
We formed a chain, stacking the stolen equipment on the concrete floor.
As the pile grew, I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot.
We’d actually foiled the robbery. Amazing.
So why the look of annoyance on Tory’s face?
“What is it?” I asked.
She waved at the expanding pile of gear. “We still don’t know who took it.”
“Hey, we did the hard part.” Hi handed a router to Ben and climbed down. “That’s the last of it. Let the cops figure out who’s guilty. What we need to focus on is this footwear disaster. Somebody owes me a new pair of kicks.”
He stamped his feet, trying shed liquid from his dirty soles.
“Whoever did this is no genius.” Shelton adjusted his glasses. “What was the plan here? Keep the gear in this bin, forever? Sneak it out one piece at a time? Child, please. Once security is back online, there’s zero chance of getting this stuff through the gates, much less off the island.”
True. As heists go, I thought this was a particularly dumb one.
But, as usual, Tory had a better take. “No. It would’ve worked.”
We all stopped to listen.
“It’s clever, actually.” Tory rapped the storage bin with her knuckles. “This was probably just for the night.”
Shelton crossed his arms. “How can you know that?”
“Think about it. The crook planned this break-in for a night security was down. But the gates are always monitored, even then, and the last regular shuttle leaves at eight. So he stashed the equipment here, knowing he couldn’t possibly get it off the island aboard Hugo.”
“Very true,” I said. “My father’s no dope. He’d prevent anyone from transporting a horde of high-tech equipment off Loggerhead.”
Tory began to pace. A good sign.
“Even with no cameras, it’s practically impossible to get something bulky past LIRI’s fence unnoticed.” She pointed to the closest ATV. “But these go out every Monday morning, to restock the feeders. And they always carry a massive load.”
Suddenly, the answer jumped out at me.
Of course.
“So the thief dumps the stuff in here until morning,” I said slowly, marveling at the plan’s elegant simplicity, “then wraps everything in feed bags, loads an ATV, and drives it all right through the gate.”
“Wow.” Shelton’s eyes rounded. “Hiding in plain sight.”
Hi nodded appreciatively. “And once outside the fence, our devious felon could stash the gear anywhere. Pick it up later by boat. Just like a pirate, really.”
“By this time tomorrow,” Tory finished, “the whole thing would’ve been over.”
“Hold up.” Shelton’s palms rose. “If the crook couldn’t get the hardware out, then how’d he get out?” Eyes widening, he dropped into a battle-crouch. “Is the thief still in here, too!?”
Tory shook her head. “With security down, a motivated criminal could slip over the perimeter fence easy enough. It’s not razor-wired or anything, to protect the monkeys from injury. I bet the jerk either secretly stayed behind after the last ferry, then went to work and climbed out, or came back by private boat after midnight, scaling the fence twice.”
I kept my face blank, but inside, I marveled. Tory puts things together so fast!
“Real talk,” Hi said, “we’re the only reason the scheme didn’t work. No chance Chief Tight Pants or those cops figure it out fast enough. I’d say we rock pretty freaking hard.”
“But we still don’t know who!” Tory threw both hands above her head.
“True, but we’ve narrowed the pool of suspects.” Hi began ticking points on his fingers. “LIRI employee. Has access to the depot. Makes feeder runs. Probably works on Monday. That can’t be more than a half-dozen people. Have Kit check the time sheets. Easy.”
I ignored Hiram. Watched Tory instead.
And knew she’d rather explode than hand off this investigation.
That’s when I got my idea.