The Heist

the same damn country, same damn jungle. Different dictator.”
    Kate finished her beer and thought about what he said. “What’s your point?”
    “I have absolutely no idea,” he said. “I just felt like telling the story. Maybe you’ll find some deeper meaning in it later. If you do, give me a call and let me know what it was.”
    “How many ways could you kill a man with an eyebrow tweezer?”
    “Sixteen,” Jake said.
    Kate looked at him in surprise. She’d thought her sister was just being a smart-ass, a quality they both shared. “Really?”
    “Yeah,” he said.
    “Will you teach me?”
    “Wouldn’t be much of a father if I didn’t,” he said.

In the course of his fifteen-year career, U.S. Marshal Odell Morris had escorted all kinds of violent killers from their jail cells to the courtroom without any trouble, including a male model who’d strangled ten men, decapitated them, had sex with their corpses, then chopped them up and served them to the homeless in tuna casseroles. So Odell didn’t get why his bosses insisted that he bring not one but
two
other marshals along to safely deliver Nick Fox to court. It made no sense at all.
    Nick Fox wasn’t some stone killer. He was a pretty-boy candy-ass con man who’d be in handcuffs and ankle chains the whole time. And even if Nick could do a Houdini with the chains, so what? Odell had a gun, a Taser, a baton, a can of Mace, a black belt in tae kwon do, and a very short fuse. Nick’s only weapon was his mouth, something Odell could neutralize with one pop of his mighty fist. Not that he’d have to, because Nick was a total pussy, already teary-eyed and shaking when Odell and the two othermarshals picked him up in his cell. By the time they drove up to the U.S. District Courthouse, Nick was so scared that he looked like he might soil his bright orange jailbird scrubs.
    The four of them headed down the long corridor toward the courtroom. Odell walked beside Nick, gripping his arm so the scary criminal mastermind would move along and not trip over his ankle chain. One marshal walked ahead of them and the other trailed behind, just in case Nick hulked out, broke his chains, and flung Odell through a wall.
    Yes, it was that stupid. In Odell’s estimation, three guys on Nick Fox was overkill. So was wasting a man of Odell’s skills on this. An elderly librarian could’ve guarded Nick, who was crumbling more and more with each step they took toward the courtroom. He was hunched over now, clutching his stomach and mewling like a baby, and this was just his preliminary hearing. By the time the trial started, Odell figured, he’d probably be catatonic.
    “I’m going to be sick,” Nick said.
    Odell wasn’t surprised by the news, just relieved that Nick had managed to hold it in until they got out of the car.
    “There’s a trash can over there.” Odell started to lead him to it.
    “Not that kind of sick,” Nick said.
    Odell spotted the men’s room and, irritated, dragged Nick over and shoved him against the wall beside the door, pinning him in place with a hand to the chest.
    “Watch him while I check the room out,” Odell said to his fellow marshals.
    This was not Odell’s first dance, and he was savvy to the fact that Nick might be faking just to get into the restroom.
    “Hurry,” Nick whined.
    Odell went inside and looked around. The restroom was windowless and empty. Only one way out. Odell was happy with that. There were urinals and sinks on one wall and three toilet stalls on the other. One stall, the farthest from the door and set against the back wall, had an “Out of Service” sign taped to its door. No surprise there. This wasn’t exactly a restroom at the Ritz.
    Odell went to the first stall and opened the door. There was a toilet paper holder and a toilet seat cover dispenser mounted on the partition between the stalls. He checked out the toilet, looking inside the tank and peering behind it, to make sure there wasn’t a gun or a knife hidden there for Nick by some confederate. He did the same check in the center stall, then went to the third, the one that was out of service. There was no toilet inside the third stall, just a hole in the floor where it was supposed to go. Satisfied that the restroom was safe, Odell went back to the door, grabbed Nick by the shoulders, and yanked him inside.
    “You two stay here,” Odell said to the other marshals. “Nobody comes in. Even if the governor himself drops by to take a whiz.