GrrRrRRrrRRrrr.
Wheeeeeeee!
— An HPC Speedex
"You understand the plan, right?"
I asked because we need this to become second nature.
"Yeah," she said, "I meet a guy at a bar. I bring him back here for some fun in the hot tub. While we're doing that, you'll go through his pants to get his keys & driver's license, so you can copy 'em."
"Right. And he won't even know I exist. But tonight's the one time it's gonna be different."
"Oh kaaaaay...?"
"Tonight's guy isn't a mark," I lied, "but we're gonna use him as a trial run. And you're meeting him here."
"Who is he?"
"His name is Andre. He owns the store where I bought the hot tub. I never met him, but I flirted with him on the phone. I said he should help deliver it, so he can show my sister how it works and help her break it in. It's getting set up in the garage."
"So, I'm your sister again?"
"Always. Talk him into getting undressed in the house, not in the garage. He won't know I'm here. Once you're in the garage, keep him in the hot tub for at least a half hour, ok? So I'll have time."
"If he's not a mark, what are you gonna do?"
"I need to find out if I can hear you, in the garage, and if you can hear me, in the house. This is just a test, but play it like it's real."
"Whatever."
"Three or four guys are coming to deliver the hot tub. Flirt with Andre while you wait for the other guys to leave. As soon as you start dropping hints about him joining you in the hot tub, he'll get rid of the other guys."
"Whatever."
Her lack of enthusiasm was starting to worry me.
"Remember: You're an urban outreach and assessment assistant."
"I thought I was an analyst?"
"Get good at it and maybe you can get a promotion."
"Whatever."
"Just try it for tonight. If you screw up, say it's a new job and you're still figuring it out. Also, you're elegant. Remember?"
"Fuckin' A, yeah I am. I'm one goddamn elegant bitch."
"Yeah. We gotta work on that."
A truck pulled into the driveway, and four men hauled the new hot tub into the garage. I'd already seen it in the store.
It was big, glossy, gaudy, and stupidly expensive-looking, like something rich people sit in while pretending their lives matter more because they have more. It had smooth molded seats. Little jets bubbled away like the thing itself had something to say. The outside was wrapped in fake wood panels, trying hard to pretend they were something they're not, but then again, aren't we all?
It was really just a giant plastic bathtub with delusions of grandeur. But it was an important part of the show. This was to be the ultimate magic trick. "We're gonna rob them all," I told her, back when we met at The Lakeside Saloon. I said, "and they'll never know who did it. They won't even know how it happened."
I watched from inside as Claire flirted with the men. Andre was the tall one. He was strong, dark brown, and ridiculously handsome, but in an almost ugly way. On first look, you wouldn't see it. After that, you couldn't look away. He had a smile like a toddler who'd just taken his first dump alone, and wanted to show you because he was proud. He was the kind of guy that looks smart, but isn't. The kind of guy that makes a girl think, "Part of me wants to climb you like a tree. But the rest of me wants to chop you down, because you're in the way and the firewood would be more useful."
Andre was dirty, too. The hot tub should have cost over ten grand, but he offered a steep discount if I paid in cash and didn't need a receipt. I asked if I could pay in Bitcoin. He became a mark the moment he said yes. I paid in cash though. No paperwork. No digital trail, especially since I was still figuring all of that stuff out.
The hot tub took forever to fill, but the other men left, as I knew they would. And Andre lingered. Good boy. I waited in my bedroom, with the window and the door cracked open.
I heard Claire talk him into joining her for a dip.
"So, Andre... Boxers or briefs? Are we gonna try this thing out? I'll get us some towels. You in?"
"Oh, yeah. Andre is in."
Andre was built like a mighty oak, but dumb as a stump.
I caught a glimpse of Claire coming out of her bedroom in a bikini. I heard her say "Gimme a sec. I'm gonna text my friend to let her know I'm not comin' over tonight. Looks like I have better plans."
"Yeaahhhh, Andre likes plans. Let's do this."
I cringed each time Andre talked about himself in third person.
I got a text from Claire that said, "Table," then the garage door closed with a whump. I went to work.
Andre's pants were where she said they'd be, folded on the table. Too easy. I grabbed his wallet and took a picture of his driver's license. I put it back. Then I snatched his keychain.
He had seven keys, not including the one for his car.
I headed down the stairs, to my basement workshop, which was basically just a desk with an HPC Speedex key duplicator and a timer.
I sat in front of the key machine. I'd used it before, but never under pressure.
I took a picture of his keychain, so I'd be able to put his keys back on, exactly the same way. Leave no trace.
I started the timer.
GO!
I set Andre's first key in the left vise, and a blank key in the right. The tracer followed every ridge and valley as I guided the cutter. The sound of GrrrRRRrrrr as metal shavings curled off like pencil shavings was louder than I remembered, but I knew that was just me, being nervous. And then the grinding changed to a very soft "Wheeeeeee..."
"DONE!"
One down. Six to go.
I checked the timer.
The first key took a minute and a half, but I'd get faster with experience.
GrrrRrRRRrrrrr...
I could do all seven in under ten minutes, but my hands had to stay steady. One slip, and I'd have to start over.
Wheeeeeeee...
I blew the dust off the fresh cut, tested the grooves with my fingertip. Perfect.
Two down. Five to go.
GgrrrRRrrRrrr...
"Please keep him in the hot tub," I thought, as I glanced at my phone to make sure there were no new texts from Claire.
Wheeeeeee...
Creak...
"SHIT. What was that? Just an old house sound? Fuckityfuckityfuck."
I crept back up the stairs, slowly, just to make sure.
"I'm good. They're still in the garage."
Back down the stairs.
Three keys down. Four to go.
GgGRrrrrRRrrrrrr...
"What IS going on up there? What's she saying to him? Is she good at this?"
I kept thinking back on previous catastrophes.
I briefly worked with one girl who took a guy skinny dipping. She swore I'd have an hour, but ten minutes later she texted me to say I didn't have to rush. What. The. Fuck. Why was she by her phone, and would the mark check his? It was in his pants too. Game over if he checked his phone. Thank God, he didn't.
Wheeeeeeee...
Four down. Three to go.
Thank God, says the atheist. Everybody's gotta...
GGrrrrKACKmptweeeeee...
Shit! Slipped.
"Throw that one away. Get a new blank. Start over on key number five."
GgrrrRRrRRRrrrr...
Everybody's gotta believe in something. I believe in me, but the plan takes two. Every time I'd look at Claire, part of me would think, "I know what I am. What are you, really?" I didn't know. Could I ever really know?
Wheeeeeee...
Five down. Two to go.
You can never truly know a person.
GrrRrRRrrRRrrr...
Even if you've known somebody for years, you only know what they allow you to see. Every human life is curated. You see what they allow you to see. You do not truly know them.
Wheeeeeeee...
Six down. Just one more.
Most people barely... FUCK.
GGGkachump!
What the? Oops.
"Get a new blank. Start again. Why am I talking to myself?"
GgrrRRrrRRRrrr...
Most people barely even know themselves. They hide truths they won't allow themselves to see, deep in the shadows of their minds. Everybody does it. You do it.
"Who really is Claire? What does she not want me t..."
Wheeeeeeee...
DONE! GO!
I grabbed the Polaroid I'd snapped of Andre's keychain, to put each key back on, in the exact same order. There would be no signs that anything had been touched.
I crept up the stairs, quietly. I could faintly hear Claire and Andre, still in the hot tub. I put his keys back in his pants, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen, and I headed back to the basement to celebrate a job well done.
My mind raced every step of the way.
"STOP. BREATHING. HEAVY. DANDY. Shit! I mean Shay."
I didn't like feeling nervous. It made me feel like I wasn't in control.