The spider heist, p.1
The Spider Heist, page 1
part #1 of Spider Heist Series
The Spider Heist
Jason Kasper
Regiment Publishing
Copyright © 2019 by Regiment Publishing.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Severn River Publishing
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-951249-05-2 (Hardcover)
ISBN: 978-1-951249-44-1 (Paperback)
For information contact:
Jason@Jason-Kasper.com
Jason-Kasper.com
Contents
Praise for The Spider Heist
The Spider Heist
Special Audible Deal
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Thanks for Reading
The Sky Thieves
Also by Jason Kasper
About the Author
To my readers—
Thank you for making this all possible
Praise for The Spider Heist
“The Spider Heist is a nonstop thrill ride, with intriguing characters and layers of mystery that the author carefully unravels right to the very last page. Blair is an instantly lovable heroine: smart, badass, brave and yet flawed enough to make her very relatable. Nothing in this captivating thriller is as it seems. My heart was in my throat until the very end, and once I reached the last word, all I wanted was more.”
-Lisa Regan, USA Today and WSJ Bestselling Author
“Outstanding! Jason Kasper spins an intricate web of clues, second-guesses, and action around a cast of memorable characters that will keep readers hooked from the first page to the final twist. I dare you to try and put it down.”
-LynDee Walker, Agatha Award-Nominated Author of the Nichelle Clarke Series
“I flew through The Spider Heist. It's packed with action, twists, and laughs. Kasper wields excitement like a hammer, and he bashes you over the head with it, again and again.”
-LT Vargus, Co-Author of the Violet Darger Series
“Jason Kasper weaves a masterful page-turner with The Spider Heist, starring his irresistible new character, Blair Morgan. If you like action, intrigue, suspense, and thrills, read this book.”
-Jeff Carson, Bestselling Author of the David Wolf Mystery Series
“The Spider Heist robbed me blind, stealing both time and sleep. Once I picked it up, this book sucked me in like few others have ever done. Kasper puts you front and center in one of the best heist stories I’ve ever come across.”
-Brian Shea, Author of the Boston Crime Thriller Series and Former Detective
The Spider Heist
As an FBI agent, she specialized in hunting America’s most elite thieves.
Now, she’s become one of them.
Blair Morgan’s world is in shambles.
After being used as a scapegoat by a corrupt former boss, she is unceremoniously fired from the FBI. Now, with her reputation, pride, and years of service stripped away, Blair just wants to start over.
But when a chance date turns into a mysterious job offer, her past comes crashing back to haunt her.
In a flash, Blair becomes entangled in a high stakes bank heist. Her status as a former FBI-agent-turned-hostage transforms her into an instant media sensation. And the unwanted attention makes her a target for ruthless killers that will stop at nothing to silence her.
Caught in the crosshairs, Blair must confront her past before she loses her freedom—or her life.
But there is something strange about this team of bank robbers. They aren’t who they seem. And as a deadly SWAT raid closes in, Blair discovers that she may not be either...
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1
Blair
His hands wrapped around Blair Morgan’s arms, and with a violent, forceful shove, he pushed her toward the void of sky ahead.
She skidded to a stop at the roof’s edge. Dark clouds loomed overhead, almost low enough to touch. The vast, stormy sky trembled on the brink of rain, shuddering with the hammering chop of police and media helicopters.
Blair felt like her heart would explode, the delirious fear driving her to a psychological breaking point from which she could never return. Her red dress was torn, black hair tousled and blowing in the wind that whipped up the smell of Los Angeles—vehicle exhaust mixed with salty ocean.
How had this happened, she wondered in a fleeting moment of terror.
And then, unable to stop herself, she looked down.
An anguished shriek escaped her throat. The Century City skyscrapers speared upward, mirrored windows poised to reflect her fall toward streets that looked impossibly small. Police cars barricaded every intersection, their thin, piercing wails rising helplessly toward her.
She struggled away from the edge, glancing backward with a panicked, irrational hope that this couldn’t be happening. But the man held her in place, his eyes fiery behind a black ski mask. His partner stepped in to block her escape and shouted, “SWAT team is crossing the 34th floor—they’ll be on the roof in thirty seconds!”
The two men were outfitted in masks, gloves, and guns. Bags of cash were slung across their backs, a prize they wouldn’t part with even in death.
Desperate and unable to flee, Blair searched the murky sky until she saw them: two black helicopters roaring toward the roof, bristling with FBI SWAT agents poised on the skids. They’d arrive even sooner than their teammates swarming up the stairwell below her, but all of them would be too late to save her.
No other rescue was coming. The remaining helicopters circled like vultures, witnesses to the chilling spectacle on the rooftop. Like it or not, Blair was going over the edge. The man behind her would see to that. As she gasped for breath, he placed the barrel of a pistol to her temple.
He shouted into her ear, a voice without sympathy.
“It’s time to go, Blair.”
She bit her lip, shuddering in his grasp.
And then Blair began to cry.
2
24 Hours Earlier
Blair topped off the man’s mug from her carafe, then picked up the bill holder and slid it into her apron pocket.
“Thank you so much for coming in to see us today. Have a great morning, and we hope to see you back at Greaney’s soon—”
“How about we meet up after your shift, girl?” The young Latino man jerked his chin up toward her as he slouched, throwing one arm over the back of his booth seat. “You know, get a coffee or somethin’.”
Blair stopped in place, examining him. The lower half of his face covered in a neat goatee, the rest hidden under a blue Dodgers hat. He wore a black jacket over a hoodie, its zipper drawn low enough to expose the tattoo of a hawk with wings spread across his throat.
She hoisted the carafe. “I work at a brunch joint. Coffee’s the one thing I’m never short on.”
“What about happiness?”
She scrunched up her face in confusion. “What are you, some kind of life coach?”
“Naw, girl. I mean, isn’t…isn’t that how the jingle goes?” He broke into song. “‘At Greaney’s, we don’t brew coffe-ee…we brew happin-e-ess?’”
“Yeah, well, that’s because they couldn’t think of a rhyme about their swing shift starting at three a.m.”
His eyes gleamed at her, undaunted. “Ain’t gonna scare me off, girl…”
“…you play hard to get all you want.”
“Cool, because I plan on keeping it up until you leave.”
“What’s the matter, you afraid to date a gangster? Gotta have a little courage, girl. Same thing as freedom.”
Spoken like a guy who’s never been to prison, Blair thought.
She tapped an index finger against the carafe, regarding him with an expression that she tried to contain at tolerance. “Take it from a girl who knows. Freedom is freedom, gangster. And as hard as it is for me to pass up on a romantic and an amateur philosopher, I’m going to give you a hard ‘no.’”
“Come on, girl.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “You haven’t even seen my hard ‘yes.’”
Blair froze, her pulse quickening as she considered her reaction. Throw the mug of scalding coffee in his face. Clock him over the head with the carafe.
Don’t do it, you need this job. Don’t do it, you need this job.
She curled her lips into a grim, plastic smile. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I have to go in the back and dry heave while trying to purge this entire interaction from my psyche. Have a nice day.”
Blair turned and marched toward the last open check of her shift. Flustered over the wannabe gangbanger, she overshot her destination and had to double back to find the right table.
“Can I get you anything else today, sir?”
“I’d just like some more coffee, thanks.”
She tilted the carafe into his mug, but her hand was still shaking with anger. The coffee flowed more quickly than she anticipated, spilling over the sleeve of his suit jacket.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “let me—”
“It’s fine,” the man replied, gently dabbing a napkin on the stain. “I’ve got lots of suits.”
Blair looked over to find her manager lurking near the kitchen entrance and watching her suspiciously. Had he seen this latest transgression? Probably. Casually sweeping forward to replace the carafe at its station, she heard him call to her.
“Can I talk to you, Blair?”
She glanced toward him, lifting her carafe. “Just a minute, Donald.”
Then Blair took a step backward, turning too late to stop herself from colliding with a runner balancing a tray of plates on his way to the dining room.
The runner struggled to stop the inevitable, but the tray had already shifted to an unrecoverable angle. The plates slid off the edge in unison.
Porcelain and brunch entrees detonated against the floor, and Blair winced, afraid to look at the carnage at her feet.
There was a smattering of applause from the dining room.
“Oh.” Blair’s face and neck burned with embarrassment. “I am so, so sorry—”
“Blair,” her manager called urgently, waving her over as several busboys rushed out of the kitchen to clean up the catastrophe.
“Guys, I am so sorry,” Blair repeated. “Completely my fault. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Finding herself ignored, she spun to face her manager. Taking a breath, she composed herself, set down the carafe, and walked over with as much dignity as she could muster.
“Yes, Donald?”
“Blair, this isn’t working out.”
She took a resolute breath. “It was one mistake.”
“Knocking that tray over, or hosing your customer with coffee ten seconds before that?”
She considered the question. “Okay, two mistakes.”
“Relax. I’m not mad about either of those.”
Blair gasped a relieved exhale until he continued speaking.
“It’s the dozen screw-ups before them, all in your first week, that give me cause for concern. If the runners get sent to dining with another wrong order from you, they’re going to start quitting in droves.”
“I just started working here, Donald. I’m still learning.”
He winced apologetically. “You just started here at Greaney’s, yeah. But your application listed employment at two other restaurants, and I’m beginning to see why neither lasted very long.”
Blair crossed her arms. “I’ve got rent due in a week—this is horrible timing. Can’t you just keep me on a little while longer?”
“Look,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “The whole rent-is-due routine is a long shot. At your next restaurant, try playing the gender card instead. Maybe even sexual harassment. It should buy you an extra couple of weeks. Please clear out your locker and go. We’ll mail your paycheck.”
Blair spun on her heels and marched to the register, where she produced a bill for one bottomless cup of coffee. Ripping the receipt off the printer, she stuffed it in a bill folder and returned to the table with the man she’d splashed coffee on a minute earlier.
Blair put on her best forced smile. “My shift is ending, sir, so if you need anything else another member of the wait staff will be happy to get it for you.”
“I understand.”
She set his check on the table. “Thank you so much for coming in to see us today. Have a great morning, and we hope to see you back at Greaney’s soon—”
“You just got fired, didn’t you?”
She paused. “Yeah, pretty much.”
He looked out the window, then to her. “There’s a Cheritto’s across the street. I’ll get a table. Come find me.”
He was handsome, with neatly parted sandy-blond hair. Deliberate stubble dusted a strong jaw, and jade eyes projected total confidence. He had a well-muscled physique that spoke to a pricey gym membership, and his impeccably tailored gray suit accentuated every angle of his chest and shoulders.
Blair knew his kind. They swarmed like bees across the streets of Southern California—young businessmen with new money to spare, trying to dress and act like celebrities. But this one had missed the mark on his watch, a beat-up vintage model instead of the ubiquitous Rolex.
“No offense,” she began. “You definitely have a better sales pitch than the last customer who asked me out. But I’m having a bad day and a bad week and a horrible month and my worst year ever. So I’m not what you’d call ‘emotionally available’ at the moment.”
“I wasn’t asking you out. This is business. I believe we may have a solution to each other’s problems.”
Blair tilted her head. “Is that so? What ‘problems’ do you think I have, exactly?”
“Money, for one. You just got fired.”
She laughed. “This is LA. There are a million restaurants, and I can get a job at ninety-nine percent of them.”
“Oh, I know you can. Judging by the state of your shoes and the fact that you haven’t been here long enough to have a nametag, you’ve probably done exactly that two or three times in the past month. I never had the hands to be a concert pianist, so I didn’t try. You should play to your strengths. See you at Cheritto’s.”
“Yeah? Well don’t hold your breath while you wait, because I’m not going.”
