Swindle: Chapters 9–13

For Griffin, watching a plan coming together was like completing a jigsaw puzzle. It started as a flimsy frame on the outer edges, then slowly the pieces filled in until the final image began to appear. With the baseball card heist, however, the finished picture was marred by a gaping black hole named Luthor.

Griffin was stricken. “You’re giving up? No! You can’t!”

Without a dog whisperer to neutralize Luthor, any plan would be doomed.

Her rage doubled, Savannah wheeled on the Doberman. "You miserable mangy waste of dog food, how dare you do that to me? I've shown you nothing but kindness—and this is how you behave?..."

Never had they heard such a tirade—and certainly not from soft-spoken, levelheaded Savannah Drysdale.

Never had they heard such a tirade—and certainly not from soft-spoken, levelheaded Savannah Drysdale.

It dropped to its belly and began groveling toward Savannah, wagging its tail and whimpering, gazing up at her with soulful, pleading eyes.

Griffin watched her walk away. “Well,” he said, “that could have been a lot worse.”
Ben gawked at him. “I hope you’re kidding.”

Luthor tossed them a baleful look and trotted off into the shadows near the store.

Griffin shrugged. “You saw how to handle him. If he gets uppity, you just have to yell and scream and threaten to send him to Alpha Centauri. I’ve got that special feeling in my gut—and it says the time to act is now.”

He never noticed two furtive eyes peering out of a narrow alley way at the end of the block.

A moment later, Griffin teetered onto the sidewalk, struggling with a heavily laden hand truck.

It bore the address of the shop and the message:
Attn: S. Wendell Palomino—Personal and Confidential To Be Opened by Addressee Only

Idly, he wondered what was so special that Palomino himself had to open it.

Yet the weight of all that cash closed in on him as relentlessly as the frame of the crate.

On top of everything else that made him uneasy about this caper, he couldn’t escape the feeling that they might be committing a very serious crime.

He clambered down the opposite side and shined a flashlight through the display window.

Griffin watched breathlessly as the blade sawed laboriously around the square frame and disappeared again.

A moment later, the lid was pushed open, and Ben’s head popped into view.
Griffin took in the bleary, blinking eyes.

Ben unlocked the door and let Griffin inside. “Sorry I’m late,” he said sheepishly. “Any problems with the dog?”

Ben looked around restively. “I hate this place. It’s like the wiring of those cases is going to come alive and strangle us.”

“Search the store!” Griffin rasped.

How could such a glorious success have been such a dismal failure?

They hashed and rehashed the details until their throats went dry.

Ben was the one prodding what now, what next?

They were riding home from yet another concert in the Bings’ van when the barking sounded—not the playful yelp of a house pet, but a full-throated braying.

Griffin gave a listless shrug. “At home, I guess...."

When they reached the Bings’, Griffin and Ben made a beeline for the phone book.

He frowned at a sticker on one of the door sidelights:
THESE PREMISES PROTECTED BY AN
ULTRATECH SENTRY-MAX™
SECURITY SYSTEM WITH WIRELESS
RADIO TRANSMITTER
FOR INSTANT POLICE ALERTS

Heart sinking, he tracked the leather leash through the bushes and around the side of the house. The taut line went suddenly slack.

He grabbed a bewildered Griffin and began dragging him across the lawn.

Luthor exploded from behind the house in a pose that had become all too familiar—a ravenous predator in pursuit of prey.

Griffin was sure of it: The safe was there, with the card inside it.
He grimaced.

Ben peered over his shoulder at the screen. “It says their sirens are one hundred and seventy-five decibels louder than revving jet engines. That means if we set it off, half the town will come running. Including the police—and my mother.”

Griffin was appalled. On top of everything else they were facing, how could they be so careless as to spill the beans in front of their teacher?