“Damn.” He glanced back toward the door and the way out. “Forget it. With this payout, I’ll buy another. I’ll get a dozen.”

“Damn. We are feeling good. Okay, it’s waffles all around then.”

Coop made it back to the door, dropped onto the hall floor, and packed up his gear.

Not bad, he thought. A tough job, but he got it done. He felt better than he had in months.

“You know,” said Phil. “It’s still a few hours until dawn.”

Coop looked up at the walls. The Bellicoses were out of town at their summer place in whatever milder country the rich had decided to strip-mine this season. He and Phil had the place to themselves. Old masters hung in gilt frames on the walls. Antique Persian carpets covered the floors. Even the bowl holding a pile of wax fruit on a nearby table was gold. He shook his head.

“I was thinking the same thing, but no. The job went all right and now we’re leaving.”

“Buck, buck, buck,” said Phil, doing a fairly convincing impression of a Rhode Island Red.

“Pipe down, Phil. I still have some professional pride left.”

“You still think this one job is going to get your rep back?”

“Why not? No one has ever made it in and out of Bellicose Manor alive. Except for a couple of hiccups, things went just like I planned.”

“Uh. No, they didn’t.” Phil cleared his throat.

Coop finished packing and looked up from the floor.

Damn.

“My snitch said this place would be empty for the whole week.”

He felt Phil twirl around in his skull like he was looking for an ejection seat.

“Well, I’m gone,” Phil said. “Good luck.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Down the hall, a little blond girl in Wonder Woman footie pajamas stood and stared at them. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and squinted when she saw him, like she wasn’t sure Coop was real. He froze, hoping that she’d keep one foot in dreamland until he had time to get out.

“Do you really think you’re that lucky?” said Phil.

The little girl twitched. Something changed in her eyes. Coop knew it was the “Nope, you’re awake” part of her brain finally kicking in. She dropped the glass of water and screamed. Coop stood and put a finger to his lips, hoping the sleepy kid might obey an adult simply out of habit. And she might have, if her face hadn’t peeled open like a flesh banana, revealing a snarling red baboonlike mug.

“Oh, crap,” said Coop and Phil.

Not a kid, Coop thought. A guard imp. There weren’t supposed to be any left in the house, much less one in little-girl drag.