Yet here he was, stuck. He reminded himself he, at least, could forever be proud he had Googled a daring plan, carried it out and succeeded. He would take his victories against her, no matter how small.

Google.

His imagination pushed at him—more like shoved—hinting there was a forgotten something. His experience at crafting plots was to never ignore his tapping subconscious. At times, it could be a cognitive super power. The several articles he’d found on stealing a bag floated in his mind. So he had used the best of them for his snatch-and-grab at the café, but what else had he missed? Or what did he need to recall?

Five clever ways to burgle settled in the forefront of his mind.

He recalled the article because each of the five suggestions fascinated him. People was ingenious and so dishonest. One was as amusing as it was simple, and he’d taken note in case scammers ever tried something like that on him.

“Ahh,” he said, slowly nodding his head at the thought. In case scammers ever tried something like that on him.

There lay his answer, where it had been all the time, right in front of him. Hours wasted sitting here when this might have been over so quickly. Whether she was inside or not, he could have gained access, found the book and been on his way.

Even a quarter-good idea he would have taken, but this was genius with a solid chance of success. Though it required him to do the one thing he hoped to never do again. Speak to Orelia.

He scanned the ground, his head moving about in search of the right size and perfect shaped—

And there he spied his necessary accomplice, standing out as if it glowed with a supernatural power.

He leaned over and picked up the smooth, grape-sized pebble, brushing the surface with his fingers to remove any grains of dirt. Popping an unsanitized stone into his mouth appealed about as much as eating oysters, which he hated with a vengeance. Slimy, disgusting, blobs of phlegm. Yuk!

The image of Morris’ face contorted as he fell into the river though, was all it took to overcome his distaste. Hell, he’d down a bowl of oysters, plus shells, if that got him inside her house.

He gave the pebble a final polish on his shirt and popped it in his mouth. The cold, hard object felt unbearably large, and he fought the urge to spit it straight back out. As he rolled the stone around with his tongue, pushing it to one side, then the other, his panic lessened. After a minute, he settled it between the inside of his cheek and teeth and practiced saying a few words out loud.

He didn’t have time to make it perfect because his gag reflex had already reminded him this was never going to be a comfortable feeling.

“Okay, I’ll do this now. And it will work,” he said, as practice.

William picked up his cell and thumbed her number, which fortunately he still had in his contacts. She’d been so cautious when they’d first met, not wanting to share her details. He’d argued, how was he meant to contact her if he needed to change an arrangement? He imagined she’d had a difficult history which created a suspicious nature.