The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

He tilted his head. “Okay. And the bad news?”

“It’s a long, three-step process . . . and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You can.” He said it like it was just that simple. He closed the door, turned the handle, and spun the dial to lock it. “Show me.”

For the first time in a long while, I looked at a safe without certainty I could get it open. Once I’d gotten good at cracking them and started taking on bigger jobs, I’d developed a bit of an ego. Every safe was a puzzle I knew I’d solve; it was only a matter of how long it’d take me and the best method to get it open.

“You reset the combination already?” I asked. “Because you’d be amazed how many people use the manufacturer’s default.”

His smile was sly. “Yeah, I reset it.”

“Grab a seat, then. This will take a while.”

I went to the tool bag I’d brought with me, unzipped it, and retrieved the black box that housed my amplifier and headphones. There were two tall chairs set in front of the fireplace, and he turned one of them around to face the safe before sitting in it.

“The first step,” I said, “is to determine the contact points. That’s the notch at the front of the drive cam that the lever falls into.” His blank look told me he didn’t get it. “It’s like a master gate that once every wheel has lined up and the fence drops, I turn the handle on the door. This makes the lever move into the notch and pull the bolt back. So, I start by listening for the contact point clicks from the lever.”

I got out the amplifier, which was a small, thick, black disc that held an extremely sensitive microphone, and the battery pack which was the same size as a stack of notecards. He said nothing as I used duct tape to place the microphone right beside the dial, slipped the wired headphones over my ears, and flipped the switch on the battery pack.

“One click tells me where the notch starts,” I said, “and another tells me where it ends.”

I began turning the wheel slowly, listening to the sound of each number as it went past. There were one hundred numbers on the dial, and they all sounded identical. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and reminded myself that patience was the greatest tool of all.

Click . . . click . . . click.

My eyes popped open, and I looked at the number I’d stopped on. There was a black grease pencil in my bag that I dug out, scribbled the number on the front of the safe, and tucked the pencil behind my ear. Then I kept turning the dial until the next click that sounded off. It was jotted down beside the first number.

I removed my headphones and motioned to my notes. “The contact area is between twenty-one and thirty. That’s the first step. Now I can use this to determine how many wheels we’re dealing with. Each wheel is another number in the combination, so let’s hope for a low number.”

He sat in his chair, looking as elegant and refined as the rest of the room, and it felt weirdly like I was a peasant performing a show for royalty. He seemed fascinated, and I was happy to entertain him.

“I park the wheels on the number opposite the contact area. On this dial, that’s seventy-one.” I spun the numbers until I hit the one I wanted and took my hand off. “I’m going to let it rest for a second, so when I start again, the cam will reengage from here.” I slipped my headphones back on. “I rotate the dial, and every time I pass seventy-one, I’ll hear a click as I pick up another wheel. I go until there are no more clicks.”

He was an excellent audience member. Vance didn’t move a muscle or do a thing to distract me as I turned the black knob, listening intently.

Two.

Three.

Four.

My stomach turned. Every number added meant exponentially more combinations I’d have to try. Four wheels generated fifteen options. Five was one hundred twenty. Anything above that would be impossible to complete in the time I’d have.

Please don’t let there be more than five.

I completed the fifth rotation, only to hear . . . nothing. I blew out a long breath, pushing off my headphones. “Four wheels.”

“Yes.” Vance’s pleased smile made my heart beat quicker.

But I sobered when I focused back on the safe and wiped away my scribbles. I drew two horizontal lines across the door, which wasn’t easy given the textured front. I marked zero at the left side and ninety-nine on the right and broke it up by tens to create my graph.

“That was the easy part,” I said. “Now I have to graph the left and right contact points.” I spun the dial to the right a few times to clear it before landing at the beginning. “I start at zero and go around the dial, marking places of interest. Maybe I hear a click, or I feel tension in the dial. Once that’s done, I park the dial at three, and go around again. I park it at the sixth position, and repeat. I keep going in increments of three until I have it all mapped out.”