Page 86 of Goose

Ally

Kneeling in front of Goose’s safe, I moved the dial back and forth two and a half numbers until the fence fell between the final set of contact points. When I felt it engage, I glanced over my shoulder. “Who wants to turn the handle?”

“Six minutes, thirty-two seconds,” Tito said.

“I’m calling bullshit,” Cash whined from behind me. “You could have known the numbers. Goose could have gave ‘em to you.”

“Did you see how she did it?” Tito asked. “She didn’t turn the dial like that. It’s different.”

Reno reached around me, pulled against the handle, and opened the door. “Fucker’s empty.” He cackled a laugh. “That looks familiar.”

“I emptied it,” Goose said.

Cash scoffed. “I don’t believe this shit. Sorry.”

“Well,” Goose said. “If you would have brought a safe like we talked, we could have used a different one. But you didn’t. So we can’t. I’m sure she’s willing to go to your house and open your safe if you want her to.”

“I couldn’t afford to buy one,” Cash complained. “And, she ain’t fucking with my safe.”

Goose scoffed. “Why can’t she fuck with your safe? I thought you didn’t believe in this shit?”

“I saw all I need to see,” Baker said. “I’m convinced.”

Still crouching in front of the safe, I stood and turned to face the men. Cash folded his arms over his chest and flexed his biceps. “You might be. I’m not. Convinced or impressed.”

“Take me to another safe,” I said. “I can open anything.”

Cash stared. Not at me. He just stared.

“I just thought of something,” Reno said.

“What?” Goose asked.

Reno looked at the safe and then at me. “Can you open big safes?”

“Size doesn’t matter.” I chuckled. “When it comes to safes, that is.”

“Big safes. Like really big?” he asked.

“Big enough to park a truck in,” I responded. “It really doesn’t matter. A safe is a safe. The locking mechanisms are the same in all of them.”

Baker stepped between us, off to the side. He stroked his beard with the web of his hand. “I think I like the sound of this.”

Reno folded his arms across his chest. Apparently, it was a biker thing. “Bank vault?”

“I can, and I have,” I responded.

“How long does it take you to get in?”

“Ten minutes if things go well. An hour if it’s a tough lock.”

Reno looked at Baker. “Holy. Shit.”

At the same that Reno spoke, Cash did a “Pffft” sound. I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him, but I wasn’t going to work with anyone that treated me like a liar. Nor was I going to be belittled by anyone.

Even if he was six-six in height and weighed two hundred and fifty pounds.

I looked right at him. Not a full-fledged glare, but a stern look. “Are you calling me a liar?”