He dropped the girl on the twin-sized bed in the smaller of the two bedrooms. They'd boarded up the window so the neighbors across the alley couldn't see in. He flipped on the overheads and flooded the dingy room in yellow light.

"Stop screaming," he said.

She looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded. "Where's Aunt Leslie?"

"She's gone, kid. It's just you and me."

She started babbling in Spanish like she did all the flipping time.

"Shut up. You can prattle on all you want, but if I hear you from the other room, I'm coming back in here, and I'll shut you up. ¿Comprende?"

The kid nodded, and Rick slammed the door behind her.

What had he gotten himself into? He had no idea how to take care of a kid. He should just let her go.

And then what? Never get his money? Go to prison? No way.

A soft knock sounded on the girl's door.

"What?" He made his voice harsh, better to keep her in line.

"May I have something to eat?"

Crap. He'd forgotten to feed her. Again. "I'll bring you something. Get back in bed."

After he delivered her a granola bar and one of those squeezable yogurts—both Leslie's idea, because they were healthier than the toaster pastries he'd picked up—he slammed the door on her again and returned to the kitchen.

He still couldn't look at the living room. Eventually, he'd have to get the blood stains off the sofa and wood floors. Eventually, but not right now.

He was bored, missing his real life. He pulled out his real phone and turned it on. A message.

From Jessica. He listened to it quickly, scrolled through his other messages, and powered it back off. He couldn't answer any of the messages right now. He'd told his boss he was going out of the country and would be impossible to reach. He'd told his friends the same thing. So answering calls or texts would only show he wasn't where he said he'd be. No need to make anybody suspicious about anything.

When he'd first manipulated events to meet Jessica—not an easy task considering the woman hardly left her house—he'd thought he might seduce her, get her to spill the beans about her involvement in the money chase. But she hadn't been the slightest bit interested in him. Too young, she'd said through offhanded laughter. Not that he was that much younger than she was. He had to hand it to the old man, getting a looker like her into his bed. He'd still been planning her seduction when he'd agreed to coach her kid's soccer team. Everything changed when he'd met the kid.

Rick could still remember the jolt of recognition when his father's eyes had looked back at him from the little boy's face. All thoughts of seducing Jessica fled, and he'd poured himself into becoming friends with the little guy.

His brother.