I read and reviewed this book back I January 2023. Here’s a link to my review if you care to read it: My Review

Reviews for Katherine McIntyre

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“When you’ve seen the elephant, son, there’s not much left to surprise you.”

Tuck crept along the pitch-black corridor, the scents of furniture cleaner, the crisp night air, and polished metal filling his nose.

One step, two step, one step, two.

His father’s words resurrected themselves at every job, as if the man himself were haunting him along the way. Dad had meant the mantra to carry the world-weariness of someone who’d seen too much. Except then he’d died of an embolism, which left the hollow tang of irony to his oft-repeated phrase.

Tuck liked to remember it for one reason alone. No matter how much you’d seen, no matter how perfect a plan you had—life was a fickle bitch, and she would always surprise you.

As he crept down the hallway, he didn’t make a sound. Instead, the hum of the air conditioning broke through the vacuum of noise, and he continued with an even tread. They’d spent a week casing this place that might as well be a history museum with how many rare and unusual artifacts littered the rooms. Because having gold diadems from the late Hellenistic period lying around on display was common. Royal Egyptian overseer statues? Pah, commoner fare.

Elijah Whittaker could go cry into his bags of money after they robbed him.

The asshole had been strong-arming people for years to get the collector’s items he wanted, and they were simply returning a rare Persian dagger to the rightful owner.

Scarlet’s voice sounded over the comms. “Who ate my beef and broccoli?”

Tuck bit down on his lip to keep from snorting out loud. He crept past a few bedrooms, heading toward the study. Alanna had snapped some pictures from the outside windows the other night, and they’d analyzed them to figure out the dagger’s location. But they only had a small gap of time on the internal alarm that coincided with Mr. Whittaker and most of the staff being off the premises. Once the personal chef had packed it in for the night and Elijah drove off, Tuck had slipped in.

The groundskeeper remained on-site, but last Tuck checked, he’d retired to his small cottage nearby.

The quiet ached with potential—for either opportunity or danger.

“Why don’t you just order more, Scar?” Alanna murmured into the comms. She was waiting outside the house for him, lingering near their getaway car.

“Spoken like the traitor who ate my leftovers,” Scarlet responded. Their resident hacker possessed a long fuse for most of their insane shenanigans, but he drew his line in the sand at food thievery. Alanna was the constant culprit, a black hole for anything in the fridge.

Tuck shook his head with a grin as he approached the open door of the study. Already, the rich scent of wood polish reached his nose. Tuck made sure to keep away from the walls or brushing against anything along the way. He wouldn’t be leaving any physical evidence behind. He stepped up to the entrance and peered into the study.

Moonlight spilled through the arched windows, gleaming across display case after display case. While a large mahogany desk and leather chair sat on one side of the room, instead of bookcases, artifacts on shelves took up the wall space. Apparently, Elijah fancied himself a museum curator. How many of these crowns, fossils, and old weapons had been coerced from the original owners? Tuck shook off the flare of irritation.

That was why they’d jumped on this job in the first place.

He took note of the shut-down security system in the room, one Scar had disabled remotely. Without being given notice, he’d only be able to keep it offline for a half hour, so Tuck had been keeping active watch on the time. Shadows cloaked him as he slipped across the room without so much as a creak. Thankfully, this asshole kept his displays organized by type of artifact, so Tuck sidled over to the glass cases of daggers, bow heads, and ceremonial knives.

John’s voice came over the comms. “Did you seriously eat my pork fried rice too?”

Tuck was half tempted to turn the goddamn comms off.

“No, dickbag,” Alanna hissed.

“Don’t need to lie to me, baby,” John flirted. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got something else to feed you.”

“If you’re referring to what I think you are, I’d starve,” Alanna sniped back.

Grif jumped into the conversation. “Kids, stop squabbling on the comms,” he said, the leader of their outfit bringing order in as usual. Alanna and John’s argument ended, and Tuck enjoyed the return to quiet as he focused on the task ahead.

Outlaws Series

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