Jenny Gibbons was standing staring at a sign. It wasn't a large sign, maybe medium sized, and it was more of a poster than a sign proper, pasted on the wall of her workplace. It was for the Card Shark, and it featured some of the best acts; dancing girls, Effie, a new kids area, and, of course, Allie Meers. It was an older poster, clearly, because Zoe wasn't on it, but it didn't matter much to Jenny. She stared at Allie's face, and then ran her hand up to her own, remembering they looked damn near identical now. She wondered if she could convince Allie to come see Domino again. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to her side to see her boss, Peter Lorde, standing there.

"It's spooky, isn't it?" he asked, "I really should take that thing down. You know how it is, you put up promotional banners and then forget about them because they just fade into the background."

"I don't think you should remove it," Jenny said softly, "I think it's nice."

"Well, it's ancient, it's advertising a casino that hadn't been built when it was printed," Peter said, "it would just make sense to put up something a bit more...current."

"It isn't ancient...it's a time capsule. It's a glimpse into a different moment in time that creates a sense of nostalgia. That's something people like," Jenny said, surprising Peter as she added, smirking slightly, "some people like magic."

                                                                            ***

"It's weird seeing children in a casino," Claire said, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt up a bit more over her face, adjusting the sunglasses on her face, "it's one of the few places one doesn't expect to see children. Surrounded by alcohol, gambling, all sorts of debauchery."

Allie glanced over at her and snickered, making Claire make a face at her.

"You look like the unibomber," Allie said.

"Thank you so much for your comfort," Claire replied, "I was way more inventive when it came to killing people. What are we even doing here, Meers? First you tell me you don't wanna stroll into a casino vault with me, and then you bring me here anyway. What's your plan?"

"We're meeting someone," Allie said.

The women rounded the corner and headed to one of the small restaurants tucked away in the back, near the bar. Allie and Claire continued further in, until they found a table in the very very back, where an old man was sitting in a button down shirt, a jacket and a polka dot bowtie. As the women sat down across from him, he looked up from his breakfast plate and smiled at them, reaching for his napkin and wiping his mouth daintily.

"Hello ladies," he said.

"Hi Mr. Magic," Allie said, "this is my friend, Claire."

That word...'friend'...it made Claire feel weird. Were they friends? Were they actual genuine friends? Or were they simply friends by proximity, because they both just happened to be in similar situations and willing to work with one another in order to get out of their respective crimes? To Claire, the only actual friend she'd ever had was Rachel St. Sebastian, and even that was...well, it often felt so one sided so much of the time, and that bothered her. but she always opted not to bring it up as a means of keeping the peace. So, to hear Allie call her her friend, that made Claire feel weird, but...also happy. Very very happy.

"I recognize you from the TV," Rufus said.

"So much for the disguise," Claire replied, taking the sunglasses off and adding, "do you want an autograph?

"Why is she here, Allie?" Rufus asked, cupping his hands on the table as Allie snatched some hashbrown flakes from his plate and dumped them into her mouth.

"Because," she said while chewing, "she demanded to be here, and a lot of this is partially her fault, so. Beyond that, she's had extreme practice at getting things in and out of walls."

"Yes, mostly people, if I recall the news correctly," Rufus said.

"People, items, semantics get nobody anywhere," Claire replied, shrugging, "now, let's discuss how to rob this son of a bitch."

                                                                            ***

Zoe swallowed and curled her fingers into a ball, knocking on the apartment door. After a moment of no answer, she knocked again, and this time the door opened a bit, revealing a face peaking out at her. The eyes rolled and the door unlatched, fully opening, revealing Salem Shaw standing there.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked, opening the door a bit more and allowing her to enter. She followed him into the apartment.

"I need your help," Zoe said, "or, well, we need your help. Don't worry, it's nothing ridiculous, we just need you to do one small thing for us. If you wanna get back at Raymond, then this is the way to do it."

"After what I already told you guys why would you even assume I'd want to risk that?" Salem asked, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a glass from a nearby cabinet, then running it under the sink faucet, gathering water to drink; after he finished, he added, "I mean, the guy is literally a personified death threat. He even gets wind I'm involved, and it's curtains for me, not to be dramatic."

"Well, you are a magician, dramatization is part of the job," Zoe remarked, making him smile; Zoe smiled back, then added, "...Rufus is involved."

This got Salem's attention. He put the glass down loudly on the counter and looked her dead in the eye as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"You just say what I think you said? Rufus Heck is involved in this little plan?" he asked.

"He is," Zoe said, nodding, "and I'm sure he'd like to see you again. That's why I'm here, cause Allie's with him right now, discussing the plan. We've got a whole little team, another magician, an architect who helped build the vault under the new casino, a serial killer-"

Salem gave her the weirdest look and Zoe shook her head.

"Don't ask," she said, "it's all a very long, convoluted story. My point is that we're essentially pulling a magic heist here, and Salem, we need you. But all we need you for is the simplest of things. You aren't coming into the vault. You aren't breaking any law. Nobody will even know you're a part of it."

"Then what the hell am I doing there?" Salem asked, and Zoe grinned.

"We need you to do what you do best," she said, "we need you to do magic."

                                                                               ***

"Money was always an object to me," Claire said, picking at her teeth with a toothpick from the table, "I mean, I recognize it's value, but it was always just a thing. I mean think about it, it has, inherently, no worth. It's just paper. Metal. We, human beings, gave it the value. We assigned value to it. It, by itself, has none. Therefore it's meaningless in the grand scheme of things. So sure, I recognize that it's a necessity for survival, only because we've deemed it so, but it is just a thing, like any other thing."

"Are people just a thing to you too?" Rufus asked, and Claire shrugged.

"Some people," she said, "and I recognize that isn't the answer anyone wants to hear, but it's the truth. Those closest to me, like Allie, are not. They are important. But ordinary everyday citizens passing by on the street, people with whom I'll never share a connection to, sure, why should I care about them? If they aren't directly involved in my life, then what purpose do they get from my empathy? It's stupid. It's all stupid."

Rufus smirked and nodded, as Allie continued to eat the burger she'd ordered.

"You know," Rufus said, "before I decided to do magic as a calling, I was studying finances. Insurance. Things of that sort. After I was barred from doing magic, I went back to that interest, because the law of money has always intrigued me. You want to know something interesting? Casinos don't care if you rob them. They're insured. If you try to rob them, they're supposed to help you along with a smile and a nod and get you out of there as fast as possible. But chips...chips are different. Chips are not insured. In fact, chips have been collectibles for as long as anyone can remember, so while they are owned by the casino and not legal tender outside of the building, obviously, there is a chip collector club that meets yearly in Vegas to buy, sell and trade them."

Allie and Claire exchanged a look, confused as to where Rufus was going with this, but they stayed quiet and let him continue. He cleared his throat, took a long sip of coffee and continued.

"Because collecting chips is different than using them as currency. They aren't purchased to be used as a means of currency, but for hobby. And the thing is, since chips cost a fraction of their face value to produce, casinos love when players collect 'em, cause then they don't have to redeem them for cash, meaning they make a big profit on them, especially at the higher denominations. So imagine this, if you will..."

He leaned back in his seat and exhaled.

"You have a guy who's donating funds from his business to the governor of the state to help him run his campaign and do his work. This guy also happens to own a casino, which is where the money is coming from. But why isn't it traceable? Because it isn't cash. At least, not cash they have to mark on. Tony is funding Raymond's work with casino chips. As I said, he doesn't have to redeem them, so he makes big profit. Now the question is...where are all these chips?"

Allie and Claire waited a moment, and then said in unison.

"...the vault..."

"Bingo," Rufus said, snapping his fingers and pointing at them, "which is why it's imperative we get in there and get this information back to your law enforcement buddies."

"Goddamn," Allie said, leaning back in her side of the booth now, "...imagine how much money that would be."

"And here's the kicker, typically, the only casinos where the chips are interchangeable are those owned by the same company. For instance, if you have chips from Caesars Palace, they'll accept them at Paris, Bally's, Planet Hollywood, or any of the other Caesars properties. So you could steal or 'collect' a lot of chips from one, take them to another casino owned by the same company and exchange them there. They won't be playable, but but they will accept them. It's a whole fucked up system, honestly," Rufus said.

While Claire and Rufus discussed this, Allie simply sat and thought. Thought about what that vast amount of wealth could do for a person. She could start an entirely new life. She could leave Vegas once and for all and be happy somewhere else. She could maybe buy back Domino and take off to wherever she wanted to go.

And all she had to do was rob a casino blind.

                                                                                 ***

Zoe had had a long day.

In addition to the practice she'd put in, she'd also run a handful of errands, gathering new supplies and props, as well as doing wardrobe check up, and then of course her meeting with Salem Shaw. All she wanted to do now was get home to Molly's and relax. She knew Molly would be at Benny's and that, more often than not these days, she wound up having the house to herself as a result, something she wasn't about to complain about. As she kicked off her shoes and tossed her jacket on the couch, she was surprised when she entered the kitchen and found Effie standing over the stove, finishing cooking. Zoe stopped in the doorway as Effie turned to face her, smiling warmly.

"Welcome home," Effie said.

"What is all this?" Zoe asked, half laughing out of nervousness, "does Molly know you're here?"

"No I broke in, of course she knows I'm here!" Effie said, the both of them laughing now as Effie approached Zoe, put her arms over her shoulders and kissed her, then added, "I wanted to do something special for you. I know lately stuff has been crazy, and...and you've been so stressed out and anytime we do see eachother I can see it in your eyes, how exhausted you are. So I wanted to take care of you tonight."

Zoe wanted to cry. She never thought she deserved to be treated with such reverence, with such admiration, adoration. She didn't think she did even now, and yet here Effie was, giving her her all and then some. Zoe pushed her face into Effie's neck and Effie ran her fingers through her hair.

"You're alright, I got you, you're home and safe with me," Effie whispered.

After a moment, Zoe pulled away and sat down at the kitchen table, wiping her eyes on her arm, breathing hard from crying. Things had been so difficult and weird lately, and she didn't know how to escape it. She wanted to tell Effie everything, but she knew if she did...if she did, she'd likely lose her. What they were doing was bordering on criminal, which was ironic given the police were directly involved in working with them.

"Listen," Effie said, "I didn't just come here to make you dinner."

Zoe looked up and watched her carefully as Effie pulled up a chair and sat in front of her.

"I mean, yeah, I wanted to do that too, but there's something else," Effie continued, "something I wanna talk to you about. Do you ever think about leaving Vegas?"

"I...I don't know, why?"

"Because I've been given an offer to headline a sitcom," Effie said, "they want me to write it, produce it, be in it, the whole shebang, and to do that more effectively, I'd have to go to LA, and...and I want you to come with me. It won't be until I finish my residency here, I do have a contract with Tony and they don't have the timeslot yet anyway, so it won't be for another year at least but...but if you were interested-"

"You seriously see yourself being with me by the time that option becomes a reality?" Zoe asked, sounding broken, hurting Effie's heart. Effie reached out and took one of Zoe's hands in her own, rubbing the back of it with her thumb.

"I seriously see myself being with you forever," Effie whispered, "and that...that isn't something I've ever said to any other girl, so I know it's serious."

Zoe lit up a bit, feeling more secure. She always waited for the other shoe to drop, having been abandoned by so many people. That was, she figured, why she and Allie were so stuck like glue to one another. Neither one wanted to go through that kind of loss again, even if the relationship they had was toxic as hell. Effie reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small box.

"And, like," she added, "not just as my girlfriend. But as my wife. If...if you're interested in that."

Effie opened the box and revealed a beautiful small diamond ring, causing Zoe's eyes to widen in shock.

"I want to marry you," Effie said, "and I know this might come out of the blue, but...no relationship I've ever had has been so easy and normal. You're wonderful, spectacular, and dammit, someone needs to spend their life making you happy and I'm gonna do that myself, so, if you want to-"

Zoe didn't even speak to respond. Instead she just kissed Effie again, the both of them laughing, as Effie slid the ring on her finger. Zoe had performed a lot of magic tricks in her day, but getting someone to want to marry her? That was by far the greatest feat she'd accomplished yet.

                                                                              ***

Allie walked to her suite door and pulled her keys from her coat pocket. It had been exhausting, dealing with Claire, and the meeting with Rufus, but everything was slowly falling into place. Soon enough they'd be in the vault, and they'd clear themselves of any wrongdoing, turning Tony and Raymond over to the proper authorities. She sighed as she put the key into the door lock, and then heard someone standing nearby. She turned to see Jenny in a long waisted black raincoat with large gold buttons standing nearby, hands in the coats pockets.

"God you really need to stop showing up like that, it's creepy," Allie said, "what are you doing here now?"

Allie opened the door and headed inside, Jenny following right behind her, shutting the door as she entered.

"At work today, my boss told me he wanted to remove a poster featuring you, from when the new casino was being built," Jenny said, "and I had to convince him not to."

"Why the fuck would you care about something as trivial as that?" Allie asked, heading to the beer and grabbing a soda from inside, popping it open and drinking it as Jenny leaned against the wall, folding her arms.

"Because in some weird way it felt like giving up a part of myself," Jenny said.

"You look exactly like me now and I gotta admit it's very unsettling," Allie said, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for flattery and whatnot, but...god it's hard talking to you. Seeing you. Looking in your face and knowing it's mine. It's so goddamned jarring."

Jenny nodded, smiling slightly. Allie pulled out another soda and tossed it to her. Jenny caught it, opened it and started drinking. Together they walked to the couch and sat down on it, both drinking, sitting in silence. After a few minutes, Jenny exhaled.

"Where's Nick?" she asked.

"....he's not really around much," Allie said, "I don't know. We haven't broken up but things are always complicated between us. Sometimes it feels like he only wants to be with me if I'm a specific way and, like, if he can't love the bad parts of me, then why should I give him the good ones, you know? Complicated."

Jenny nodded, listening, sipping on her soda can. Allie finished hers, crumpled it and tossed the can onto the floor. She then shifted and leaned against Jenny, putting her head on her shoulder and shutting her eyes.

"I'm just gonna lay here for a bit," she said quietly, "it's been a long day."

"You want me to stay?" Jenny asked.

"You can," Allie whispered, yawning, already passing out, "it's kind of nice to know there's a good version of me out there."

Jenny smiled and held her hand, squeezing gently. And so they sat together, and Allie fell asleep on her, and Jenny thought back to her discussion with her boss. How much she wanted to keep that poster around. A poster from a better time. She wanted to be here, to help and to listen, to be, as Allie had put it, the 'good' version of her. The one who cared enough to keep you from doing the bad things she wanted to do. To keep her from falling back into her vices. She wanted to protect her because, from what she saw, nobody else was even doing a remotely decent job of it.

How so badly she craved to keep just a little bit of magic left in the world.

Rachel St. Sebastian stood off to the side, trying not to draw any attention to herself, in her black suit, black sunglasses, her large black rimmed sunhat. She lifted her coffee cup to her lips and took a long sip as she watched the service go on ahead. The priest read from the bible, the few people who showed up looked sad, yada yada yada, the usual funeral stuff. Rachel had been to so many funerals at this point that nothing really felt different, except...this one was different. This was a funeral for the death of a woman she'd been directly involved with. She'd helped cause this. And the thing was...the guilt was eating her alive inside. Once the service ended and people started to disperse, Rachel walked up to the headstone and let out a long exhale.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't know it would go this way. If I...if I had, I don't know that I would've let her go into that apartment with you. I know it doesn't mean shit now, but I am sorry, regardless."

The newly etched name into the stone, Kristin J. Whetworth, shone back at her. Rachel St. Sebastian shook her head, then took another long drink of coffee before adjusting her large sunglasses.

"For what it's worth," she added, "...she's going to pay for it eventually. I can promise you that."

Meanwhile, while Rachel headed back to the morgue, Allie was seated in a bistro downtown, a very old, very forgotten bistro. The place she used to go to see Sunny to get her medications. The kind of place one goes to have shady business dealings. She twiddled her thumbs and felt her stomach churning. She didn't want to agree to this meetup, but it had been so many weeks now, she figured she didn't have a choice. She watched as a father and son, the son looking to be in his late teens, entered and approached the counter, and she wondered what that must be like. To have a family who wanted to spend time with you. To not be so completely alone. She heard the chair across from her pull out, scraping its legs against the floor, and turned back, face to face with Claire Driscoll, who just smiled at her.

"Hiya Meers," she said, "it's been a while."

                                                                               ***

"Why are we at the library?" Benny asked, "the library makes me feel weird. Like I'm...I'm late to turn in a book report."

"We are here, because," Molly said, as she knelt in front of the bottom row of a section and started looking, "I need to back up my theory before I can qualify it with confidence. I think I know how Jackson Strange does what he does, but I wanna confirm it first."

Benny leaned against the shelf and put his hands in his coat pockets, then looked down at Molly, who was sifting through each book individually. He smiled to himself and chuckled, shaking his head. After a few minutes, Molly popped back up and held a book in her hands.

"You know," Benny said, "this might come as a surprise, but back when I was first starting out, I would do this exact thing. Come to the library and find books about magic, study everything I could, every different trick and technique. I wanted to just be the absolute best at it. I don't seem the studious type, but here we are."

"You might not seem the studious type, but you're certainly the dedicated type," Molly said, making Benny blush, his eyes widen a bit as she added while flipping through the book, "and that's the thing, that's what's admirable. You're driven, determined, dedicated. That's why I like you."

Benny smiled, approached her and kissed the side of her head, making her smile too as she finally stopped on a page.

"Right here," she said, pointing at it with her finger, "this is it. This is what I meant that night at his show. This is how Jackson Strange does what he does. Harry Houdini."

                                                                            ***

Zoe was standing outside of Tony's office, waiting. She'd met with the agents the previous day, and now, was here to fulfill her duty. As she tapped her foot anxiously, the door to the office opened and Raindrop, along with Tony, came walking out. Raindrop stopped and looked at Zoe, who looked immediately back at the floor, intimidated by her for some reason. Raindrop stopped after putting some papers in her bookbag and turned to face Tony.

"He'll want to see you soon. A meeting is inevitable," she said, "and I suggest you bring some evidence of success that makes him happy. He is a benefactor after all."

"I...I know," Tony said, "I know, yes. And I will. Just tell me when and I'll show up. Until then I have other business to attend to."

With that, Tony grabbed Zoe by the arm and tugged her into his office, shutting the door hard behind them. She stood there, perplexed, as he walked back around to his desk and poured himself a drink, shaking his head, clearly exhausted from his meeting with Raindrop. Zoe, after a moment, turned her focus towards him as he pulled out his desk chair and plopped down within it, putting his feet up on the desktop as she gently sat down across from him on the opposite end of the desk.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Never enter into an ongoing business agreement," Tony said, sipping from his glass, "it ain't worth it. No matter what they promise you, kid, it ain't worth it. They'll suck ya dry until you're a husk of your former financial self. Every businessman is a goddamn loan shark. It's much better to try and manage and finance yourself, trust me on that."

"I don't disbelieve you, for what it's worth," Zoe replied, shrugging.

"Anyway, what're you doin' here?" he asked, shaking his glass at her, the ice within tinkling against the sides, "you want a drink?"

"Oh, no thank you sir," she said, "um, I'm here because we're having an issue with the theater. There's some structural integrity of the pillars, specifically around the stage and front row. I don't think it's safe to continue doing shows until it gets looked at, and probably repaired. Thankfully I've outlined the exact issues and even drew up a rough estimate of what it would cost to fix and you'll be happy to learn it won't be much, at least if we start now before it gets worse."

"Everything is fucking money," Tony said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and standing up, looking out the window behind his desk while he continued drinking; he sighed and continued, "...ya know, if I'd known all the trouble opening a second casino would bring me, I wouldn't have done it. I only did it so I could maybe make more so my family could live more comfortably. My kids, they deserve the best, because I didn't have the best growing up and I wanna make up for that to them. But this entire place, it's just been one nightmare after another. Well, at least you're bringing me something I can easily fix. We should take a walk down there and see what-"

The door opened and his secretary popped her head in.

"Sir?" she asked, "you're needed out here, there's an altercation on the main floor."

Tony sighed again, set his glass down on the desk and walked past Zoe.

"We'll go when I get back, it'll only be a few minutes," he said. As soon as he left, Zoe sprung into action. Agent Siskel had given her a small, almost watch battery sized device that she was to place underneath his desk somewhere to record audio in the room, and she wasn't going to squander this chance now. She got on her knees and crawled beneath the desk, pushing his chair aside, pulling the device from her pocket. She looked around for a minute for the right spot, somewhere he would never look, and then pushed it against the wood grain hard, watching it stick. She grinned, satisfied in her efforts, then started to climb back out. However, as she exited this position, she knocked the desk, and his now empty glass fell. Zoe scrambled, reached out, and grabbed it before it hit the floor. She took a long breath then set it back on the desk exactly how it had been, before taking her seat once more. Minutes later, as promised, Tony came back. Together, they went to the theater to investigate its issues, and Zoe couldn't help but silently congratulate herself.

Sleight of hand had always been something she'd been somewhat of an expert at.

                                                                           ***

"You sure you don't want anything?" Claire asked, biting into her sandwich, as Allie shook her head slowly; Claire shrugged and spoke while she chewed, "your loss I suppose. Food's excellent here. So how you been?"

"How have I been?" Allie asked, "How have I been? Seriously? Well let's see, the last time I saw you we were in an empty apartment where I killed a perfectly innocent woman, all because she MIGHT have gone back to her boss. So, that's twice now I've...gotten rid of someone, rather against my will, so I'm not doing exactly great."

"You get used to it," Claire said.

"I don't want to 'get used to it', I don't want something like that to be so normalized in my day to day life that I no longer feel bad about it," Allie said through clenched teeth, leaning a bit across the table, "don't you live with any fear, any guilt?"

"Not particularly," Claire said, shrugging, "but that's because we're aiming for a bigger prize. I'm going into that vault with you."

This took Allie by complete surprise.

"You...you're...excuse me what now?" she asked, "you most certainly are NOT. I'm not strolling illegally into a casino vault with a convicted serial killer. That's, like, triple the law breaking. If anything, I think the space we've granted one another is good. We need people to not think we're associated. Why would you even wanna get in there?"

"Allie," Claire said, wiping her mouth on a napkin and then cupping her hands on the table, "think about the amount of money that's down there. We're sending these people to prison, right? That's the goal here. Why can't we Robin Hood a little? Take care of ourselves. We take a fair portion, we leave town, not necessarily together, and we start new lives. Let's face it, Vegas hasn't been good to either one of us."

"Vegas has actually been great to both of us, the problem is we fucked it up," Allie said, "I'm doing better now than I've maybe ever done."

"Okay, well, look at it from my point of view. I lost everything. I...don't wanna go back to what I was like. What I was doing. I realize this might sound contradictory from my statement earlier, about you getting used to killing people, but what I meant was that the more often something happens, the more normal it becomes to you. I'm not in any way suggesting you keep doing it. I don't even want to do it anymore. I want to take some of that dough and leave town, once and for all. Now look, I've helped you a LOT, I figured the least you could do is give me this send off."

Claire had a point, she had indeed helped a lot. She hated admitting that, but it was true. Allie sighed and leaned back in her chair, running her hands over her face. Claire exhaled and blinked a few times, then looked down at the table.

"I like you, Allie," Claire said, "I wouldn't betray you, of all people. I still think we're two sides of the same coin. I just want us both to come out of this even, you know? After all we've both been through, don't we deserve a chance to be happy?"

"You murdered people and stuffed them in walls," Allie said flatly.

"I know what I did, I don't need a reminder," Claire said sternly, "How come people who are drug addicts, alcoholics, how come they get the benefit of the doubt? You were a painkiller addicted, gin swilling mess and yet people believed in you, that you could change, that you deserved to be better. Why aren't I allowed that same kindness? Just because I did what I did I'm somehow irredeemable? That doesn't seem fair."

Allie looked at Claire, who looked genuinely hurt.

"Nobody wants to give convicted criminals, regardless of the crime, even the slightest hope that they might get better. Sure, I did horrible things, but how is that any different from the horrible things these men are doing? It's all crime, regardless of the format."

Claire, once again, had a point, and Allie hated that. She hated how often Claire made sense of the senseless. Allie sighed and sat back upright.

"Alright," Allie said, "...if you're coming, we need to set some ground rules. And you should probably come talk to someone with me."

"Who you have in mind?" Claire asked, sipping her drink.

"A former magician by the name of Mr. Magic," Allie said.

                                                                             ***

"This..." Molly said, as she and Benny sat at a table in the library and she pointed at something on the page before them, "is the plate glass box. As the book clearly states 'the escape from a box made of sheets of plate glass in interesting is that it was performed by both Houdini and Mrs. Houdini and shows the performer visible from every angle. The box is held together by metal and heavy bolts kept in place through holes in the glass. The cover of the box lies flat and is hinged to one of the long sides. The front of the box has two hinged clasps at the upper edge with the top of the box having two metal staples projecting at the front edge. Once the performer is inside the box, the cover is closed and heavy padlocks are connected through the staples.'."

"So Strange just stole the idea outright and performed it on a more public scale?" Benny asked, "god he's an even bigger hack than I thought."

"It goes on to say 'The secret of the escape lies in the hinges. Each bolt in the back of the box has two portions, the hollow bolt and the bolt-head, provided with a small screw-bolt. When the bolt-head is screwed into the hollow end of the bolt, the result is a solid bolt that exactly resembles the real bolts. From inside the box, the performer can unscrew the bolt-heads with a flat key hidden amongst the 42 bolts, push the bolts out of the holes, lift up the cover with the hasps acting as hinges, and escape. After escape, the heads are easily put back in place either through use of a string from inside the box or unlocking the padlocks to release the front cover, replacing the bolts in the hinges. The cover may then be closed and relocked'. Don't you see? He called himself an illusionist one time, and now I get it. I didn't realize until that night you and I went that he'd lifted it directly from Houdini, and I knew I'd seen it somewhere before."

"How did you even know to recognize this?" Benny asked, sounding impressed.

"When I was little, I had this aunt and we used to watch a lot of documentaries," Molly said, "one night, she fell asleep and I watched this thing about Harry Houdini, and I guess it just stuck in my brain, but I'd forgotten about it until now. But seeing Jackson perform it, it all clicked back into place for me."

"So what do we do? Now that we know how it's done, how do we implement it to our plan, to the...to the architecture of the vault?" Benny asked.

"We don't," Molly said, grinning as she slammed the book shut and looked at a rather confused Benny, "not entirely. The faux wall is ready to go, and is being installed tomorrow. But it isn't going to be the main attraction, or the only way we succeed, because someone's already going to be inside."

"They are?" Benny asked, "someone's gonna be IN the vault, waiting for us?"

"Can't be a magician without an assistant," Molly said.

The one thing you could say about Jackson Strange was that magic...was not exactly the career he'd been aiming for.

Unlike Allie or Benny or Rufus Heck, for whom magic was a passion, for Jackson Strange, magic was a job. A skill he knew he was proficient at and thusly could ride all the way to the bank. When he had been in high school, he'd attended a party and, while there, had done a few simple card tricks to entertain the masses. When their fawning over his easily understandable card tricks simmered down, that's when it hit Jackson...people were dumb, and would believe anything they saw. So he focused on magic, created a persona, and the rest was history. But Jackson didn't want to be a goofy stage magician with a fancy costume like he'd seen growing up, no, he wanted to be a cool magician, one that worked on the street and didn't play by the standard rules. Needless to say, he achieved his goals threefold. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen, seeing as it made him somewhat of a pariah amongst the industry, many of whom worked longer and harder than he had and yet never attained the same level of fame he'd gotten in all their years. But Jackson found an audience, not in the traditionalists, but in the new age and outsider crowd. The gothic scene, especially. He was a big draw at parties, and there was no bigger outsider party than that of The Divine Arts.

The only problem now was...what did one wear to such an event? Molly Hatchet had no idea.

Standing in front of her mirror in her bedroom, wearing a plain black backless dress with a slit up to her hip and her hair pulled up into a messy bun, Molly almost didn't recognize herself. After learning this club was set in a grungy downtown underground club, Molly figured the best she could do was try to fit in. So she looked up gothic makeup tutorials - nothing extreme, just the basics - and made her face paler, did heavy eyeliner and dark red lipstick. She actually didn't dislike the way she looked, which was perhaps the most surprising part of all. Benny entered the room, finishing up tying his tie, when he stopped and looked up at her.

"Alright, we need to move if we're gonna make this thing and...whoa," he said, "damn. Look at you."

Molly turned her head and blushed, looking at him.

"Well, dare I say I think I'm gonna be there with the best lookin' girl, that's for sure," Benny said, "Ya know, I didn't know I had a thing for goth girls until just now."

"Oh, was my one time attempt your awakening? Boy you're easily swayed," Molly replied, the both of them laughing as Benny approached and put his hands on her hips, tugging her towards him, making her gasp.

"It's a shame you're gonna have to reapply your lipstick," he said quietly, before kissing her. Truth was, despite all that was going on...Molly Hatchet had never been happier in her life, all thanks to the relationship between herself, Benny and Olivia. After a little impromptu makeout session, Benny and Molly arrived at the club, showed their tickets and were let in instantly. As they headed down the stairs and into the main foyer, Benny tugged at the chest of his suit.

"I'm not used to wearing such tight clothes," he muttered.

"Try wearing heels when you never do, my god, I'm going to break my neck," Molly said.

"That's the attitude to have while in here, embrace death," Benny said, making her chuckle. After they reached the bar, next door to the theatre where the show proper would be held, they stood and ordered some drinks. While waiting, they scanned the area, and after a moment, Molly pointed at two women off in the distance in black shoulderless dresses, the texture of which looked to mimic spiderweb.

"What about them?" she asked, "look at their knee high boots. I would rather wear those."

"Well we can make that happen," Benny said, "but they have to stay on in bed."

"But you really are discovering new things you like," Molly said, laughing as someone sidled up beside her and ordered a drink. Molly looked towards the man, and realized immediately it was Jackson Strange. Once he got his drink, he lifted it to his lips and then looked at Molly.

"Hey girl," he said, "how are you doing tonight?"

"I've been better," Molly said.

"You here for the show?" he asked.

"Think that's what everyone is here for, yes," Benny said, chiming in.

"Well, hope you enjoy, it's gonna be a doozy," Strange said, downing the rest of his drink, wiping his mouth on his long duster sleeve and then turning to leave. Molly shook her head and scoffed, as Benny took a sip of his own drink.

"I really dislike him," Benny said.

"Get in line," Molly said.

                                                                           ***

Allie and Zoe were sitting in Allie's car, parked outside of a seemingly rundown apartment building. Allie checked the card Rufus had given her one more time and rolled her eyes. Yes. This was, in fact, the right address. She groaned and laid her head back on the headrest, putting a hand over her face as Zoe turned her head to face Allie.

"We can just go," Zoe said, "We don't have to do this."

"Rufus said Salem Shaw knew Raymond Sykes better than anyone," Allie said, "I need as much information on the guy just in preparation for what's to come. Eventually we're going to come face to face, and when that moment comes, I need to know exactly what I'm up against."

"Well, I'm here with you, you're not alone," Zoe said, grabbing and holding Allie's hand, making her smile. The two women nodded, stepped out of the car and, zipping up their respective jackets, headed up to the apartment building. It was so run down there wasn't even any security to get in the front door, they instead just pulled the doors open and headed right inside. Once there, they stood and looked around, wondering where they might find an index of tenants and what apartments they resided in. After a moment, Zoe tapped Allie on the shoulder and pointed at the mailboxes built into the wall, with names and apartment numbers on them. They walked over and found Salem Shaw, Apartment 3B. Together, they then headed up the stairs, seeing as the elevator was out of order - and looked like it had been for years - and eventually landed on the third floor. They then began scouring the door plaques for 3B, until they finally found it. Allie exhaled, reached out and knocked. After a minute, the door opened, a chain keeping it half shut, as a nervous looking half face peered back out at them.

"Hello?" the face asked.

"Hi, I'm...I'm Allie Meers, this is my friend Zoe Fitch, we're magicians. Rufus Heck told me to come speak with you," Allie said, "I hope we're not imposing."

"Rufus sent you?" the face asked, its one visible eyebrow lowering in suspicion, "...why?"

"Can we come in and discuss that?" Zoe asked, as a second voice called out from inside the apartment.

"Open the door, Salem," the female voice said, and the face sighed, then did as it was told. The latch unchained and the door swung fully open, revealing a man who looked to be in his mid thirties with a short beard and scruffy brown hair. He was wearing a short sleeved button down shirt with a pattern on it that resembled arcade carpet and torn jeans. He stepped aside and allowed Allie and Zoe entrance into the apartment. As they walked inside, they then saw the woman from whom the voice seconds ago had come from. She was tall, over 6 feet, with bleach blonde long hair, wearing a pencil skirt and a nice blue blouse with white polka dots. Together, the two seemed utterly mismatched. She smiled at them as they entered her line of sight, and they smiled back politely.

"Hello," she said brightly, walking towards them and extending her hand to shake theirs, "I'm Jane. Rufus sent you guys?"

"Hello Jane, nice to meet you, and yes he did," Allie said, as she and Zoe shook her hand; Allie then turned to look at Salem, who had lit a cigarette and was taking a long drag before adding, "we really need to talk to you."

"I mean, I'm not...I'm not working anymore, I don't know why you'd be interested in speaking to me," Salem said, coughing as he smoked.

"It's about Raymond Sykes," Allie said, and Salem's eyes widened.

"...fuck," he whispered.

                                                                           ***

Sitting in the theatre, Benny kept wiggling in his seat, as Molly looked at him and smirked until he finally noticed her and stopped, staring back at her.

"Enjoying the show?" he asked, and she laughed, nodding; Benny grinned and said, "my seat has like a broken spring or something and it's jabbing me right in the crotch. It's very unpleasant."

Just then the lights came down and the theatre got dark, as some cheers and whistles erupted from the small crowd. Benny and Molly then covered their eyes as they were blasted with blinding white spotlights from the front of the stage, illuminating just the middle of the stage, where the infamous glass box stood. Music was playing, and after a minute, Jackson Strange, in his regalia, stepped out to massive applause. Benny scoffed and looked around.

"It's a goddamn fashion show for him, and look at how they're treating him, like he's the Saint of Magic or some shit," Benny whispered.

"He's insufferable," Molly whispered back, "but I think you're right, the adoration is far more insufferable simply because it lacks any sense."

Jackson walked to the center of the stage and stopped, putting his hand on the glass box and then, looking at the crowd, grinned.

"Welcome...to The Divine Arts!" he shouted, making the crowd erupt.

"And they said Claire ran a cult," Benny whispered, making Molly smirk.

"Tonight I will be giving you an example of the trick I am looking to pull off publicly on a large scale in just a few months time, and that is escaping from this transparent glass box," Jackson said, "the illusion of escape is an ancient one, going back all the way to the start of magic itself. And why does it entice us so? Because, at one time or another, we've all wanted to escape."

"Jesus, someone call the pretentious police," Molly whispered, making Benny chuckle and hold her hand.

"Well, tonight, I intend to prove, before this esteemed crowd, that escape is possible, even when it seemingly isn't," Jackson said, "and when I am done, you too will realize that, even when things look their bleakest, you can also pull off the unimaginable, and do the impossible. I am Jackson Strange, and this is The Glass Box!"

Another cheer erupted, as Molly rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long night.

                                                                           ***

"Yeah, I know what a bastard he is, upfront," Salem said, "I saw it firsthand."

"You worked with him?" Allie asked, and Salem shook his head as he sat on the arm of the couch.

"Nah, didn't get that personal with him outright, definitely didn't enter into some kind of business relationship," Salem said, "no, I dated his daughter. Nicole. Hearing she'd put a hole in her head was...hard. But, truth be told, I wouldn't be shocked if he was the reason she put it there. Man was a deceitful, controlling, manipulative piece of shit."

"How long were you two together?" Zoe asked, as Jane came back, handing everyone coffee mugs before seating herself on the couch, beside Salem, her free hand on his leg as if to comfort him in some sort of way during this moment.

"Not long, 5, 6 months maybe," Salem said, lifting the mug to his lips and drinking before taking another drag on his cigarette, "but the things I saw, the things she told me...Rufus was the only one I ever shared that with, and only because he and I wound up doing a charity event together. He was retired, but they begged him, loved him, so he agreed. It was a one night thing. To get to perform with your hero, how could I turn that down? Some rich kids birthday. So afterwards Rufus and I strike up a conversation, we get to talking, turns out we both the governor, albeit for different reasons. Start swapping stories."

"He's told me what he was involved in," Allie said, "Rufus, I mean. But I'm still not clear on what it is you know."

Salem leaned back against the couch and sighed. He looked into his coffee mug and waited, tapping his nails on it.

"...I watched him," Salem said, "watched him make Nicole do things she wasn't comfortable with. Perform financial alterations she didn't want to perform. Phony up tax documents, the whole thing. Nicole would tell me these things too. I didn't just see it. Sometimes, when we would get together, she would break down from the stress and tell me all about what he was making her do. Controlled every aspect of her life, using her job as a means to cover his tracks with where his campaign funds came from."

"Why did you stop seeing one another?" Allie asked, and Salem scoffed.

"That one, funny enough, wasn't Raymonds doing," Salem said, "uh...that was...ya know, I was mad about it, cause I actually really liked her. Wanted to help her get out from under his tyranny. Turns out she had a more vetted romantic interest in her own stepbrother than me."

This admittance made both Allie and Zoe recoil in disgust. They looked at one another, then back at Salem, who just smirked as he took another long drag and nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "that's pretty much the response I had too. Walked right in on 'em. Nicole obviously knew I wasn't a threat, cause Raymond never came after me, at least not for what I knew, cause he didn't know I knew what I did. From what she had told me. But he did come after me for another reason."

"...which was?" Zoe asked, almost scared at this point.

"We were careful," Salem said, "but apparently carefulness doesn't prohibit you from still fucking up. About a month after it ended, she called me up, told me she was with child. Said she didn't know what to do, was scared to go to her father about it, understandably so. Her terror was entirely justified, as I'd soon find out, because after she did, at my insistance - the one mistake I will never forgive myself for - I learned that not only did he force her to abort it, which she wasn't entirely against, but then started checking up on her regularly. In ways a father never should. About things a father never should. She was entirely under his thumb and I couldn't help her, and knowing she had dated me, he took that ire out on me. Said I'd gotten her pregnant and then left. Said I refused to come back or give her money. These lies he spread, they...they destroyed my career. Nobody would work with me. That's why winding up at that party, with Rufus...that was a blessing. Working for the first time in so long. I missed it so bad."

"Rufus told me that Raymond also told people he was sleeping with his assistant, because of their age gap, and that they ruined his career too. Seems to be his go to excuse to slander people," Allie said, "...so...if Raymond Sykes learns that we're after him?"

"If Raymond Sykes learns you're after him..." Jane started, before she and Salem exchanged a look.

"...run," Salem whispered, finishing her sentence.

Allie's blood ran cold.

                                                                            ***

Sitting in the theatre after the show had ended, while everyone else was piling out, Molly couldn't help but feel like she and Benny were the only ones not as impressed by Jackson's magic show. Sure, he did what he said he would do. He got into the box, he vanished, and reappeared elsewhere in the theatre. But to Molly, the illusion wasn't this feat of grandiosity that it appeared to be to everyone else watching. As she dug through her purse, looking for her car keys, Benny sat in his chair beside her, shaking his head, his chin on his fist, his elbow propped up on the seat rest.

"You know, I've seen some pompous people enter this industry during my time," Benny said, "but this guy might just take the cake."

"He owns the whole goddamn bakery, Benny," Molly replied.

"His entire thing is 10% magic and 90% schtick. He's nothing but a public orator, extolling how great magic is instead of just...ya know...DOING magic," Benny said, "it's disgusting. He's a magic show designed for reality TV. And all that crap about everyone wanting to vanish sometimes, I mean, sure, he's not wrong, but to tie it into this kind of faux positivity you can do anything mentality, that's even worse. He's preying on peoples biggest insecurities. Nothing more disgusting and underhanded than that. So he escaped from a box. He's not fucking Houdini."

And that's when Molly looked up. It had hit her in the middle of her brain like a freight train. How had nobody else seen this? She grinned so wide as she looked at Benny, who looked back at her, confused.

"What?" he asked.

"That's it," she said, "that's how he does it. Houdini."

"...I'm gonna need you to elaborate," Benny added.

"You built the Card Sharks second location, didn't you?" Agent Tropper asked, and Molly shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I did, yes," she answered meekly.

"What can you tell us about the job?" Agent Siskel asked, "because Allie has told us there's a vault, one that needs to be easily accessible. So can you give us the dimensions of this vault, can you give us any information that-"

"I have blueprints," Molly said, reaching down to the bag beside her and pulling out rolls of paper, placing them on the table, "my boyfriend suggested I bring them. He said a visual aide would be worthwhile. With these you can see exactly what Tony wants me to do, and how it's already being built. The problem is now that I have to keep telling him I have to minor alterations in order to give us enough time to find a way inside of it without him knowing."

"Exactly, because we need access to it," Agent Siskel said, "these should help tremendously, honestly. Your boyfriend made a good suggestion. Why didn't he come here with you today? Is he not good at moral support?"

"He's great at everything," Molly said, "but he had a prior engagement he couldn't reschedule."

                                                                             ***

"I feel like maybe I shouldn't have let her go alone," Benny said, sitting on the couch, drinking from a water bottle as Allie sat on the arm of the couch while Rufus admired the glass box they'd acquired; Benny took a swig and added, "after all, she doesn't do great under pressure, so I really feel like maybe I should've gone with her and-"

"Benny, my guy, you need to calm down," Allie said, "Zoe's doing a solo show for us today, covering for the fact we aren't around, so we can be here while Molly hands over what she knows about the vault to the agents. Right now we need to work with them, because, frankly, they're gonna grant you guys immunity and you need that, alright? So let Molly handle it. She's a big girl, she can take care of herself."

"This thing is a mystery," Rufus finally said, "and you say this is the very same type that Jackson Strange uses?"

"The one and the same," Allie replied, standing up and approaching it.

"What's frustrating to me is I feel as though I've seen this before," Rufus said, "it seems so very familiar, and yet I can't place it. I don't know if its because of its modernity, perhaps it's been changed from its original design or what, but lord does it seem recognizable."

Allie stood and nodded, scratching her nose. Benny finished his water bottle, scrunched the plastic in his hand and tossed it to the floor before sighing and saying.

"Ya know, the only way to actually figure it out might just be to see it," he said, "I mean we've seen a few small crowds around him with it, but to actually witness it, maybe up close? He gives personal shows doesn't he? For, like, very small and elite crowds?"

"I have pull with those crowds," Rufus said, "Despite my blackballing, my name does still carry some merit for the respectable magicians in the area. I could easily get you tickets. I think Benny might be right, I think it really might just require seeing it up close and personal. I just...god, it's like it's on the tip of my tongue, you know? I just can't place it, but I KNOW this device."

"There's one coming up," Benny said, "I get e-mails telling me of all the smaller shows around town. This is seen as more of a 'black magic' show, called The Divine Arts. You think maybe we could get into that?"

"I don't doubt it," Rufus said, scratching his head before looking at Allie and adding, "but I'll tell ya one thing, once we crack this, those men are gonna rue the day they ever crossed the likes of us."

Allie smirked. She really did appreciate his lust for revenge.

                                                                            ***

"But it's entirely concrete," Agent Tropper said, "how would you build access into something that's meant to be so thick? Wouldn't he notice? Wouldn't he, ya know, recognize that something is wrong with this scene?"

"He wouldn't because it will look exactly the same, and he's not going to be one to check for stuff like that, he just wants it done. There's a lawyer there right now, but I don't think she's working for him. He's taking her around, getting insurance policies and statements on things, but personally...I think she's the governors lawyer, and it's his way of keeping an eye on Tony, so he isn't gonna show her that either, something he's probably trying to hide from the governor. And even if she isn't his lawyer, he's not gonna show that to someone who might turn him in for it."

Agent Tropper stopped pacing and looked down at Agent Siskel who just smirked.

"She's a smart girl," Agent Siskel said.

"Please don't talk about me as if I'm a golden retriever," Molly said.

"You remember Claire, right? Claire Driscoll, serial killer?" Agent Siskel continued, "Hid her victims bodies in the walls of the compound she lived at, the abandoned ones anyway. Well, would it help to see how she did that, to maybe give you ideas on how to achieve this? Because, I gotta tell ya, when we went to get her, that place looked normal. If we hadn't been tipped off, we never would've guessed."

"...the bodies....aren't still, like...there, right?" Molly asked, and the agents laughed.

"No, no they've long since been removed and properly laid to rest. But seeing someone else work with walls might give you some ideas," Agent Siskel said, "what do you say, wanna take a little ride?"

"Beats being in this room," Molly said, holding her hand out at Agent Tropper and adding, "I'm gonna need my blueprint back, please."

Together, the three of them exited the building, climbed into a car and headed off towards Claires former compound on the outskirts of the Vegas city line. The drive over, Molly couldn't believe she was here. She didn't want to be here, of course, but...after she spoke with Allie, with Benny, about everything...it just made sense for her to be the one to speak with the agents seeing how closely tied to the project, and thus the crime itself, she was. And then she thought about Claire and shook her head. That day, when Allie came back to Benny's, her hands and shirt covered in specks and spots of blood, Molly knew Claire was the cause. Molly had only seen a few news spots about the compound when Claire had been arrested, she didn't really pay much attention, so to roll up on the place itself was somewhat...unsettling.

What once looked like it belonged to a rather bustling community was now completely abandoned. Buildings where life had once occurred now just empty shells of their former selves, likely in stark relation to the people Claire brought into the cult. Molly, Agent Siskel and Agent Tropper climbed out of the vehicle after it was parked and, bookbag full of blueprints slung around her chest, Molly followed the agents into a nearby building that had been locked up, the doors covered with crime scene tape - albeit weathered now - to likely keep anyone from interfering with the then ongoing investigation. They headed up the stairs and finally reached an apartment, where Agent Siskel dug a key from her pocket and opened the door, allowing Molly to enter first.

"They always say you can tell when someone has died in a space," Agent Siskel said, "how it changes the feeling of the room. This place definitely gives me that vibe."

Molly nodded weakly, then approached a nearby wall and, with her hands, pried it open as though it was nothing. She marveled at the design.

"It's hollow," she said softly, "obviously, because they had to hide people in it, but it's hollow. Made to look proper, but is completely hollow."

Molly grinned to herself. Claire might've been a murderer, but she sure wasn't an idiot.

                                                                              ***

"You know why I'm here," Raindrop said, sitting in front of Tony's desk, polishing her glasses before putting them back on her face, adding, "you know he wants a rundown of your assets. He thinks you had his daughter killed. I don't believe that, personally, and I would go to bat for you if it ever came to that, but as far as the monetary discrepancies go..."

"Look," Tony said, standing upright behind his desk, pouring himself and Raindrop each a glass of Bourbon, "it's a new casino, takes a while to get the place completely up and running, whether that's in code or in funds. That's why I'm kinda glad he called you out here, because now you can tell him, firsthand, from a legal perspective, that it's just taking a while. Casinos are rarely profitable within the first year of opening, regardless of it being a second location."

"I don't think that's true at all but okay," Raindrop said as he handed her the drink; she thanked him and took a sip.

"But," Tony continued, seating himself now, "you're right, I had nothing to do with Nicole's death. Why would I? Her stepbrother was found UNDER my building, for god sakes. Not only do I have no interest in taking out a drug dealer - someone who, realistically, could only help my clientele - but then go to the trouble of hiding him underneath my own building, and then, once he's been found, take out the other child? It just doesn't make sense."

"Do you know anybody who might've had some kind of business with Sunny?" Raindrop asked, finishing her drink and wiping her mouth on her sleeve, "because if you can give us a lead, a name, anything, that would be really helpful."

"The only person I know who ever had any kind of addict problem was my mainstay magician, but she was an alcoholic, not a drug addict, at least not to my knowledge. If she was, she hid it damn well. I know she was on pain medication after her tiger attack, but that came from the hospital, and I know cause I paid the insurance directly."

Raindrop jotted all this down, but showing no real interest. It didn't seem like anything of note to her, really.

"Tony," Raindrop said, "Raymond is mad. I think you two need to schedule a meeting instead of going through third party people, like myself. He thinks you're vying against him. He thinks you want to pull out financially. He thinks you had his daughter killed. You two need to talk, clear the air. Otherwise there'll be something worse than just miscommunication taking place here soon enough."

Tony nodded, finishing his drink in one gulp and slamming the glass down on his desk. He had two businesses, the respect of his fellow casino owners, and the protection of the governor himself. How was he suddenly losing all of this?

"And Tony?" Raindrop said as she stood up and prepared to leave, "...just know, and I'm telling you this because I don't think you're a bad person like he makes you out to be...if he catches wind of anything else, you might want to leave town."

And with that, she exited, leaving Tony to turn in his chair and look out the window behind him. The vault. He needed it kept entirely secret, and he needed it finished asap. The thing was...Tony wasn't innocent of committing a crime. He just wasn't committing the crimes they believed he was.

                                                                           ***

Allie, Benny and Rufus were seated on the couch, all staring at the box, all varying levels of annoyed, and all of them sharing a singular box of cheese crackers.

"I hate this box," Benny finally said, chewing crackers, "it's taunting me. It's living in my apartment and it's taunting me."

"It's probably not too crazy about you either, for what it's worth," Allie replied.

"I got you tickets," Rufus said, looking at his phone, "Two of you will be in attendance next week for The Divine Arts, featuring Jackson Strange. Now you just hav to decide on which two it is. They're open ended, not assigned, so, could be any of you."

The door to the apartment opened and Molly walked in. She dropped her things in front of them and stared at them on the couch.

"Claire," she said, making Allie's hair on the back of her neck stand up; she continued, "Claire kept walls hollowed out so she could put the bodies of her victims inside them on her compound. That's what she was arrested for, remember? The agents took me to see it, firsthand. It was...creepy, I'm not gonna lie, but it was worthwhile cause now I get it. Whatever it ends up being, it has to be hollow, but look the same as everything else, and function like this," she finished, putting a hand on the box, "...as soon as we figure out how it functions, that is."

Molly then sat between Allie and Benny, and rested her head on Benny's shoulder as he reached up and stroked her hair. She shut her eyes and smiled.

"She done good," Benny said, making her laugh, "she done real good. Now we just gotta crack this box. So, Molly, I hope you have an outfit for nice occasions, cause we're goin' to see a magic show tomorrow night."

Allie stood up and walked to the kitchenette, where she pulled open the fridge and got herself a soda. She popped the tab on it and started drinking, as Rufus came over, pulling on his sweater.

"You leavin'?" Allie asked, and Rufus smiled, nodding.

"I am indeed, I do have other things to do today besides figure out how to bankrupt a casino," Rufus said, "...Allie, before I go, I wanted to talk to you about something. Come with me out into the hall."

Allie glanced past him at Benny and Molly snuggling on the couch, and agreed, taking her soda with her. Once out in the hall, they started walking down the hall, towards the stairs, almost as if she were walking him to his car.

"Listen," Rufus said, "what's going on between you and your boss and Raymond is vastly different, in many ways, than what I went through, but I still feel as though it's my duty to tell you to be careful. Vegas is a cleaned up town these days, sure, lot more family friendly and law abiding than it used to be. But that doesn't mean it isn't dangerous. That doesn't mean there aren't seedy mother fuckers out there just itching to do dirty work. Raymond Sykes is one of those kinds of people. Right now you guys have gotten repeatedly extraordinarily lucky, but that luck WILL run out, and when it does, and when Raymond finally sets his sights on you....well, I just hope you're smart enough to know how to handle it."

"I'd like to think I am. I've gotten us this far, essentially by myself," Allie said, as they stopped at the top of the staircase.

"Allie, I'm serious," Rufus said, "you don't know Raymond Sykes like I did. He's ruthless. I just need you to be aware of what it is you're up against. Please, go speak to this man. He's a friend of mine, another magician. He can tell you what Raymond Sykes is really like."

Rufus handed Allie a business card from his shirt pocket and she took it, nodding solemnly. After he headed down the stairs, she looked down at the card and read the name Salem Shaw. She then finished her soda, crunched the can in her hand, and tossed it in a nearby recepticle in the hall before heading back to the apartment. Despite everything, the way Rufus had said that last thing to her stuck in her brain and made her feel anxious for the remainder of the night. And she was right to, as she'd soon learn.

Because Raymond Sykes really was a villain, and nobody knew that better than Salem Shaw.

"Hello boys and girls, and welcome to Mr. Magic's Guide To Trickery!" the man on the tape said. He was tall, thin, with a good head of hair and dresses to the nines. A suit, a cape, a hat, the whole nine yards. And Allie sat there completely entranced, freshly 11 years old, her eyes glued to the television screen with a slackjaw sense of wonder on her face. She'd seen magic done before, but something about the way Mr. Magic did it...it was spellbinding. Mr. Magic went through his entire repertoire of tricks, teaching her how to do them one by one, and by the time the tape was finished, all Allie knew were two things. The first was how to do all these tricks, and the second...

...was she needed to watch that again immediately.

Allie spent weeks watching that tape on repeat, doing her best to mimic Mr. Magic's abilities. Soon enough, she was performing in the school talent show with her cousin, Megan, doing magic, and shortly after that she wrote a letter to Mr. Magic who, much to her surprise, wrote her back. His words, like his demeanor, were kindly and supportive, and he also sent along a signed photo for her. Allie framed and hung these things on every wall of every place she ever lived, always pulling inspiration from then when she felt her lowest. She had no way of knowing it, either, but the very same effect he had on her, she would wind up having on a young girl named Zoe Fitch. But...not quite in the same way.

In fact, Zoe had been there the night of the accident, and even that gruesome display hadn't lessened her want for being a magician and working with Allie when she got older. Even her parents were sympathetic to what had happened, as anyone normally would be. But as Zoe got older, and as Allie spun out further, all Zoe ever heard from her folks was "I don't want you working with that woman, she's a bad influence." Zoe was determined to prove them wrong, and in all honesty, she kind of had. Considering the success they would find together, she did prove her parents wrong. Unfortunately, it also came at the near cost of her freedom and sense of self.

                                                                             ***

"It can be hard to recognize when those closest to us abuse us or use us," the woman leading the group said, "especially if we love them deeply. We want to give those we love the benefit of the doubt, want to believe they can change, which is why some people will stay attached to toxic partners, friends, family, far longer than they should."

"How do you know someone can't change?" a voice asked, and the woman leading the grou, Harriet, glanced in the direction of the voice, only to see a teenage Zoe sitting there; Zoe asked again, "how do you know someone can't change, how do you know when it's a lost cause?"

"Well, I wouldn't say people are lost causes, it's more that-"

"But you just said that some people can't change," Zoe said, interrupting, "you just said that if people can't change, and those types often won't, then they deserve to be left. So how do you know when to finally write someone off for good?"

Harriet didn't have an answer, and even if she did have one, it never would've sufficed for Zoe. She wasn't going to let go her hero worship anyway. In another few years, she would run away to live with her sister in Vegas and, hopefully, eventually work with Allie Meers. But to hear her parents tell it...Allie was now nothing but a former shell of herself. A once great but since tarnished shadow of who she'd once been, and frankly, by using large tigers, she was setting a bad example for other young magicians who might, by following in her steps, might lose more than she had. When Zoe got home from the group, she went immediately to her bedroom, popped a VHS into her TV's built in VCR and pressed rewind. Once it was finished, she pressed play, sat and watched Allie's latest live show she'd ordered on pay-per-view one night and recorded on this tape. How could anyone think Allie was dangerous? She was just a magician. You can't be a bad influence by simply doing entertainment, especially one so milquetoast as magic.

If only Zoe knew the future in that moment.

                                                                           ***

"I have to say, I'm flattered," Mr. Magic said, "to have kept something this mundane from someone like me all these years."

"Wasn't mundane to me," Allie remarked, leaning against the wall nearby, "after all, you were who I looked up to. To think that Raymond Sykes used you the way Tony's using me...it's sickening. I figure that's why you're more than eager to help me accomplish my goal."

Rufus made a noise and cleared his throat, turning around and looking towards Allie as he walked to the couch in the suite and sat down. Allie walked over and sat down on the ottoman across from him.

"Raymond saw the value in what I do as a means to an end," Rufus said, "perhaps Tony actually saw potential in you as a performer."

"If that were true, he'd have told me what he was involved in."

"Maybe he didn't in order to keep you safe," Rufus said, shrugging, "I'm just playing devils advocate, Meers. All I'm saying is that just because Raymond did that to me doesn't automatically mean it's happening again to you. I think, before you go ahead any further with these plans, you first need to ensure that that's where it's headed. The worst thing you could do is assume his intentions instead of knowing outright. Wouldn't wanna ruin the business for no good reason."

Allie sighed and nodded. She knew Rufus was right. She knew she should ultimately make sure that Tony was, in fact, attempting to use her to hide money, but how would she even go about that? And then she remembered the lawyer Zoe had mentioned. Allie looked back towards the letter framed on the wall.

"...all the tapes..." she asked, "were they part of the ploy too?"

"That was how we made the money," Rufus said, "it was a good financial move for us both at the time. Didn't realize how it would only screw me over and benefit him in the long run. But despite that, my love for the act of magic was never fraudulent. I hope that at least was clear."

"It was," Allie said, before looking back at Rufus and asking, "so...how do you get someone to incriminate themselves?"

"It's the same as any magic trick, Allie," Rufus said, leaning forward, hands cupped between his knees, grinning, "it's all about misdirection."

                                                                            ***

Zoe studied that tape of Allie as much as Allie studied the tape of Mr. Magic. She was enamored, and determined to get things right no matter what, simply so, when the moment came, she would be considered good enough to be worthy of working with her idol. Even still, she tried her best to temper her expectations. When her parents would ask her about her plans after high school, she of course would tell them she was going to go to college, but, realistically, she had already made plans with her sister, Thea, to live in her apartments spare bedroom in Vegas. And there were other reasons to get away from home, but it was mostly the magic.

After the incident at her cousins birthday party, especially, setting them on fire accidentally during a magic trick, Zoe and her parents drifted even further apart. They simply refused to acknowledge the interest, nay the obsession, she had for magic. They sure as hell wouldn't want her to go work with Allie, who, as they claimed, had been a bad influence. Bad enough to, perhaps, set her cousin on fire. Now their fears felt validated.

The day Zoe arrived in Vegas, she put Allie's show tape in the VCR in her bedroom, curled up on the bed, and sobbed until she fell asleep. The thing was, Allie's influence on Zoe was different than Mr. Magic's had been on Allie. After all, he'd inspired Allie to take on magic as a career. Allie had influenced Zoe to work with Allie. For Zoe, Allie was the safety net, the obsession, not the magic. Sure, she liked magic well and good, but it was much more about her attachment to Allie, something that only felt more confusing the longer she grew to know her in a personal capacity.

A few weeks after hiding Sunny's body, Allie and Zoe were having a snack in between shows at the casino, and all Zoe could think of was how, somehow, in some warped way...

...her parents had been right.

And how much that hurt to admit.

                                                                            ***

"You know," Allie said, "when I was attacked by the tiger - something that was inspired by you, by the way, so thanks for that - and wound up in the hospital, my parents never even came to see me? My boyfriend, who was my nurse at the time, I had him bring in your tape so I could watch it in the hospital VCR."

"Boy, that's pretty pathetic," Rufus said, smirking, making Allie laugh.

"To be fair, I was on a lot of heavy pain medication, so I guess the need for comfort items was at an all time high. Also, my hand had been nearly ripped off, so there was that too. Anyway, it helped. I didn't have any family, but...in a way...someone I'd looked up to my whole life was there in spirit, at least."

Rufus felt bad. He didn't know that Allie had put so much stock in his presence in her life, even if it was just through a videotape. Rufus stood up and started to pace, Allie staying seated on the ottoman, watching him. After a few minutes, he finally stopped and looked out one of the large windows of the suite and shook his head.

"You say you have a partner?" he asked, "an assistant?"

"She's not my assistant, not anymore, she's my full on partner now," Allie said, "why?"

"...I had someone like that too, at one point," Rufus said, "this lovely young lady, fresh out of college. She'd majored in theatre, so she figured she'd be perfect for it. In a way, she became a daughter to me. She had had a bad home life, and I, never having had any kids, liked having someone who looked up to me for advice. It was nice. When Raymond and I started in on this little business venture, she could see the morality issues attached to it. I wish I'd listened to her, but...I was so desperate to break through. To make it big. To have more influence. As usual, money wins over people."

Allie looked at him sadly, sensing the loss in his voice. Rufus continued, putting a hand on the window.

"This city takes so much from you," he said quietly, "I wanted to leave. Wanted to stop things, take Anika with me, and leave the city. Go somewhere better. Somewhere less..."

"...poisonous?" Allie asked, and Rufus snapped his fingers, pointing at her.

"Bingo," he said, "but I just couldn't walk away from it. When I finally tried, Raymond blackballed me from every venue, telling everyone I was having relations with my assistant, and considering the age gap, this was problematic, even then, even in Vegas. It was sleazy, but they still held their performers to some kind of standard. And Anika...she was so torn apart by the allegations, despite knowing full well they weren't true, that she simply left on her own. So, I'm sorry I put you in the hospital, Allie, even if albeit unintentionally. Seems all I do is damage young women."

Allie stood up and walked up the window, standing by his side, looking out of it, folding her arms.

"I feel like I do the same," she said, "between my partner, my friend Molly, and so many others, it seems like I just do irreperable damage to the younger women around me when really I just want the best for them. How did you rectify that within yourself?"

"I never did," Rufus said meekly, "don't let yourself become me, in that way, Meers. Don't be a bad influence."

Allie nodded. She knew what she had to do that evening.

                                                                                ***

Zoe was sitting at the restaurant, at a table with candlelight, playing with the utensils in front of her. She'd had the menu for about 15 minutes, but she'd opted to wait to order anything. She felt someone walk by her and looked up, expecting to see the waitress coming back yet again, but instead, this time, it was Allie. Allie sat down at the table and looked across at Zoe. Zoe smiled at Allie, the finally picked up the menu and perused it.

"About time, I was starting to starve," Zoe said.

"I hope it wasn't an imposition to get together like this," Allie said, "I tried to invite Molly, but she didn't answer."

"It wasn't," Zoe said, chewing on her lip, clearly hungry, before looking up from the menu and asking, one eyebrow raised, "what is this about though? Cause we don't normally do this kind of stuff and-"

"I have to apologize to you," Allie said, "...I know I...I know I've done it before, probably a dozen times over at this point, but none of, in hindsight, has really felt sincere. That's what I'm aiming to correct here. Because I've tried to come up with so many different explanations, so many different excuses to alleviate myself of any if not all guilt associated with what's happened, but...the fact of the matter is, Zoe, everything is my fault and I can't deny it any longer. All you wanted was to be my assistant, and I took a lifelong dream of yours and turned it into a nightmare. All Molly wanted was to work on a new casino, and I dragged her into my malarky. Got her caught up in an entire tax evasion scheme. She just wanted to create buildings."

Zoe set the menu down fully and looked at Allie.

"In essence," Allie continued, "yeah, it's all cause of me. And after a few discussions with someone I admire greatly, I realized that I was no better than Sunny or Claire, taking advantage of people who were stupid enough to be tricked by my charm. My manipulation tactics have never been stronger. But that doesn't make it okay, and, unlike them, I acknowledge that what I'm doing is inherently wrong. That's why I'm trying to make it right. When the agents and I met, right before....well....before she died, I made a deal with them. I'd offer my help and, in exchange, all of you wouldn't be touched. You've all been granted immunity. I'm taking full brunt of the fault, since the fault is mine to begin with."

Zoe's eyes widened. She had suspected this might be the case, but to hear it...jesus.

"So I'm treating you to dinner, and an apology, I guess," Allie said, "and I just hope at least one of them was worth coming out for."

Zoe smiled and nodded. Allie was right. Her apologies thusfar had been rather lackluster and insincere, but this one...this one was genuine. Zoe picked up her water glass and took a long drink, then pushed her bangs from her face and exhaled.

"Well, for what it's worth," Zoe said, "nobody else has apologized to me for the things they've done or said, so in that sense, you're already ahead of the curve. You know, my parents used to say you were a bad influence."

"Funny, cause my parents used to tell me that about myself too," Allie replied, the both of them laughing.

"I feel stagnant, like I'm just doing the same thing over and over again," Allie said, looking at a large prop in the corner of the shop as she was on the phone with Zoe, adding, "I just want us to stay fresh, you know? We can do the same show for a while, but after that we have to switch it up, otherwise audiences get bored. I think that's part of Strange's appeal, is he's always doing something different."

Allie walked past a wall full of capes and sighed.

"No, I know," she continued, "we have more important things to worry about right now, I just...I wanna keep doing this but I want it to be the best it can be, you know what I mean? I want us to be great. I want us to be 'beens', not 'has beens'....yeah that did sound cooler in my head, you're not wrong," Allie said, laughing, "Alright, I'm gonna go. I'll be back at the casino in a bit."

With that, Allie hung up her cell and slid it back into her pocket before turning and walking to the counter, tapping her nails on the glasstop to get the attention of the man behind the shop. He was old, balding, a little hunched over, but dressed well in a collared shirt with suspenders and a well groomed mustache. He turned away from stocking the shelf behind the counter and faced Allie.

"Yes, can I help you?" he asked.

"Maybe, um, I've never been here before, so...I'm a little lost, I think," Allie said, "I'm looking for cuffs that are easily escapable."

"We have those," the man said, "the question is, are you good enough to get out of them?"

"Well, considering I'm a successful practicing magician, I would tend to say yes," Allie replied, "that's my face on the billboard out there."

The man looked out the window and grunted.

"First of all, you can't say practicing. You're not a doctor. Secondly, that's a nice billboard, but anyone can get one of those. Hell, I could pay for one that says you eat babies and nobody would stop me because it all comes down to who has the money to advertise it," the man said, making Allie raise her eyebrows, smirking in surprise; he continued, "so I posit the question once again to you, are you good enough to get out of escapable cuffs?"

"They're literally designed to be escapable."

"And yet so many can't do it, fascinating how that works isn't it?"

Allie smiled, and then her smile turned to a face of shock as she realized who was standing behind the counter.

"Oh...my god," she whispered, "you're Mr. Magic."

And the old man grinned.

                                                                           ***

One hand stuck a draining tube into the womans arms, the other hand turned a radio dial on, blasting Billy Joel's "You May Be Right", as Rachel St. Sebastian stepped back from the table and watched the blood begin to drain out of her body. Rachel reached into her coat pocket, retrieved her cigarette pack, smacked the bottom with her palm, and then slid one out. She lit it and then put it between her lips, inhaling, shaking her head at the sight before her.

This was an out and out tragedy, something that didn't have to happen. Something that could've so easily been avoided. Rachel turned away from the table, turning her eyes elsewhere to anything in the room. She simply couldn't stand to see her like this, even though she knew this would be the likely outcome. Rachel took another long drag, and then coughed, exhaling. She thought back to when she and Claire used to hide bodies in the walls, and how simple all of that seemed now in retrospect. If only she'd known where it would lead.

But that was the thing, right? She DID know where it would lead. She hadn't been blind, well, perhaps willingly so. She had just ignored it because being in love makes you do stupid things.

But she'd known all along full well what the end result would be. Where it would all lead. After all, there were only two places for a cult leader to end up; incarcerated or dead, and she'd already been incarcerated. Rachel sighed and felt her eyes well up with tears again. She finally turned back to facing the table and approaching it again, looking down at the woman laying atop it, her body growing paler by the second from the lack of blood as it drained down the table and into the bucket below.

She'd give anything to do it all differently.

                                                                           ***

Molly was sitting at her drafting table in her home, chewing on her lip, when the door to the room opened and she looked up to see Benny entering. She smiled at him as he walked in and shut the door behind him. On days when Olivia worked really long shifts, Benny and Molly often wound up back at Molly's, and Molly, being a morning person, was always up before him, so she made coffee, which he now had a mug of in his hand as he walked in and plopped himself down on the nearby couch, lifting the mug to his lips and sipping carefully.

"Did you sleep good?" Molly asked.

"I did, you have such a nice bed, I'm jealous," Benny replied, "I might just have to tell Olivia we're living here from now on."

"She'd never go for it, she loves the studio too much," Molly said, "...these plans don't make any sense."

Benny stood up and walked over to the desk, standing behind Molly, a hand on her shoulder as he rested his chin on her head and looked down at the blueprints on the table in front of them.

"What doesn't make sense about them?" he asked.

"The measurements are far too large," Molly said, "if all he's keeping is cash, maybe chips, why're the dimensions this wide? It's almost like he's trying to keep something of large proportions in here. I mean, I know the casino makes a lot of money, gotta have somewhere to keep it, but still. It just doesn't make sense."

Benny reached down and shuffled the papers, screwing up his face at it and tapping at something.

"What is this?" he asked.

"What is what?"

"This thing here," he said, tapping again, "it looks like a large garage door."

Molly looked at it and furrowed her brow.

"I...I didn't even notice that," she mumbled, "yeah what is that?"

Benny shrugged and walked back to the couch as Molly threw her drafting pencil down on the desk and groaned, turning to face him in her desk chair.

"I hate this," she said, "I hate all of this. I'm not even supposed to be involved in any of this. I was just asked to build the new casino. Allie had to barge in and make me an accomplice without my knowledge, and now I'm entrenched in it. Now we have FBI agents breathing down our backs about access to the vault, and for what? We don't even know what it is he's keeping in it! Apparently something very big, but what?! I'm so sick of all this."

"C'mere," Benny said, curling his finger at her. Molly folded her arms, pouted, and, using her heel, dragged herself across the room in her chair, making Benny laugh; once she was close enough, he leaned forward and put a hand on her thigh, smiling at her as he said, "you do realize you're the hero of this story, right?"

"What do you mean?" Molly asked, confused, adjusting her glasses.

"Because when it breaks, and everything is out in the open, and all the guilty parties are behind bars, the public perception is gonna be that YOU were the integral key into achieving this. They literally - the agents, Allie, everyone - couldn't be doing this without you. You are literally the hero of this story. So sure, being the hero sucks, and answering a call to adventure you didn't even want sucks, but it might pay off for you in the end."

"Or, and hear me out, it won't. I'll likely be barred from ever working on anything again, because I'll no longer be trustworthy," Molly said.

"Well, then you can build whatever you want. Do you remember what you told me in my bedroom that first night? The night you guys all holed up there together? You told me you wanted to build a house. Something simple and beautiful, cozy and far away from everyone and everything. You could finally do that. Once this is all over, you could finally do that, and we can go with you, and we can have a nice little home and a nice little life away from all this shit, this shitty fucking city, and it'll all be possible because of you, Molly."

Molly wanted to cry. Benny actually remembered something she had said, nobody ever remembered what she'd said. She scooted the chair closer and collapsed inwards onto him on the couch, making him laugh as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.

"Trust me," Benny whispered, "it's all gonna work out."

"I love you," Molly said, muffled into him, making him laugh some more as he ran a hand up into her curly bushel of hair.

"I love you too," he replied.

                                                                               ***

"So, how'd you wind up here?" Allie asked, leaning against the counter as Mr. Magic, or Rufus, as he had asked her to call him, continued stocking the backshelf; Allie added, "like, it makes sense, having you own a magic shop, and I don't know why I never came in, I guess I'm just loyal to the one I've always used, and there's so many of the goddamned things in the city, given the ratio of magicians there are, but still."

"Well," Mr. Magic said, finishing stocking a line and turning to face her again, "once I quit performing, I figured, well, what better way to supplement my income by being adjacent to my former career, so I figured I'd open the shop. Oddly enough, most of my customers are kids. Kids doing talent shows, kids doing magic for the fun of it, not actual live magicians. I kinda like it that way, though. Nice to be the local elderly magic shop man to children."

"That is wholesome," Allie said, "I had your kit when I was a little girl. The tape and the whole thing. I must've watched that thing a thousand times over."

"You probably wore your VCR out," Mr. Magic said as he opened another box, making Allie laugh.

"I mean, it was worth it. You're literally why I do what I do," Allie said.

Mr. Magic stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her, a small smile on his lips.

"Well, thank you, that...that kind of statement almost makes it all worth it," he said, "what did you need escapable cuffs for anyway? That's such an old fashioned beginner trick."

"Well, if you must know," Allie said, "...I'm looking to break into my casinos vault, and they're part of the misdirect."

Mr. Magic touched his moustache thoughtfully, nodding.

"Gotta admit," he said, "that's a new one."

                                                                             ***

Molly was laying on the couch, her head in Benny's lap as he sat upright, his neck back, his eyes shut, one hand still lost in her hair. Molly was looking at the ceiling overhead and the little hanging decorations she'd strung up there when she first moved in. She then craned her neck and looked up at Benny, smiling. After her assault in the windmill at the golf course, she never thought she deserved to be treated with any kind of respect, and so this relationship was such a nice little wake up call.

"Am I a bad person for hoping she gets caught?" Molly asked.

"Who, Allie? I don't think so, considering what she's gotten us all involved in," Benny said, "but frankly, what'll likely happen, is she'll cut a deal and take a reduced sentence willingly for having helped the agents."

"That doesn't feel fair," Molly mumbled, "she's done so much damage."

Molly was angry. She didn't want to be, but she was. She was so very angry at what Allie had done to her, to everyone, and especially to Zoe. Nobody deserved to be dealing with the shit they were, and it was all her fault. One rash decision that led a chain reaction. Then again...if Tony was funding a dangerous politicians career using his casinos money, that wasn't any better. Molly grimaced.

"This city is fucking reprehensible," she said, "it turns you into a bad person. It makes you do awful things for the sake of success."

"No argument here," Benny said.

"And the worst part is, anyone is susceptible, regardless of intention. You can just be pulled into it like an undercurrent grabbing seashells from the beach."

"That was a beautiful analogy," Benny remarked, making her giggle.

"I just wish..." Molly started to say, but stopped, causing Benny to open one eye and look down at her.

"You wish what?" he asked.

"I was gonna say I wish just one person would treat me right, but...now I have two who do, so I stopped," Molly said, "...hey Benny?"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna build a house?" she asked, and he smiled.

"Yeah," he said, nodding, grinning.

                                                                              ***

"We can stand here and talk about glass boxes and escapable cuffs all day," Mr. Magic said, "what it really comes down to, Miss Meers, is not how good you are at the misdirect, but how good the misdirect IS. There's a distinct difference. Now, for example, you can be the best at it, bar none, no rivals even close to your skill level. But if the misdirect isn't interesting enough to grab the attention of those around you, your skill level at it doesn't matter."

Mr. Magic and Allie were now sitting in the little asian soup place a few stores down for lunch. Allie lifted her spoon full of noodles to her mouth and slurped, as Mr. Magic added some soy sauce to his broth.

"Because," he continued, "and this is key...people are simple creatures. They'll look at anything. But there's a difference between grabbing their attention and keeping their attention. So you wanna get into this vault? You're gonna need a lot better than escapable cuffs and a glass box."

"Why are you even entertaining the idea of helping me?" Allie asked, and Mr. Magic smiled slyly as he leaned back in his booth.

"You want to hear a story, Allie?" he asked, as she nodded in response; he continued, "this is the story of a man named Rufus Heck, who became Mr. Magic, and how a politician used him as a scapegoat. That politician? The very same man your boss is in cahoots with."

"What were you doing involved with him?" Allie asked, confused.

"...let's just say that's part of the story," Mr. Magic replied, "so, once upon a time..."

Allie was driving, but her thoughts weren't exactly focused on the act of driving. Instead, her mind was elsewhere. Not anywhere in particular, really, opting instead to jumping around in time, remembering one moment or another. Events she'd wished played out differently. Things she'd wished she'd done instead of what she did do. The radio crackled as it turned to yet another new station, and Allie finally looked over in annoyance. Megan had been changing the station knob for the last fifteen minutes, switching between over a dozen different options.

"Is this what you do at home? Because if so, I can't blame Jeff for cheating on you."

"Low blow," Megan said, continuing her channel surfing, "why did you ask me to come with you anyway?"

"Cause seeing family isn't any fun if it's done by yourself," Allie said, "you think I wanna be the only one being judged?"

"Remember in our Junior year of highschool we got caught coming home at like, 2am on a weeknight, and our parents were convinced we were doing something bad and then when we told them we had been performing magic at a club downtown, they looked so disappointed. Almost like they'd had preferred if we'd been partying."

"To be fair," Allie said, "we were doing magic. That is kinda embarrassing."

Megan laughed and continued turning the radio knob until Allie finally slapped her hand away.

"Alright knock it off!" she shouted, making Megan laugh harder.

Truth was, Allie didn't even care to go home and see her parents. She just wanted someone to come with her so she didn't have to be mired in her own nostalgia, and Megan, being who she'd started her career with and being her only decent family, was the person she figured was the safest to accomplish this trip with.

"I'm sorry for what I said about Jeff," Allie said, and Megan winced, then smiled weakly.

"Thanks," she said, "he's moving out, but he's not even opting for a divorce or anything just yet. I think he's just hoping that some time apart will let us process our feelings about the whole thing."

"That or he wanted a place to be able to cheat on you without being caught," Allie said.

"Yeah, probably more likely it's that," Megan said, "why are relationships so hard? Are things like this with Nick?"

"Nah," Allie said, "cause Nick knows I'd kill him if he made it difficult."

Allie and Megan laughed, and it felt good. It felt good to laugh, for the both of them. This little trip home might be just what each woman needed to move on a little bit more. The irony of the conversation, however, was that relationships weren't hard if you had the right person. Sure, they still require work, but in the end, they were worthwhile and easygoing if you did it right, and nobody knew that better right now than Molly Hatchet.

                                                                             ***

Molly yawned and opened her eyes, her sight a bit blurry. She realized she was laying her head on Olivia's chest in bed as Olivia stroked her hair with one hand, her free hand reading a magazine, while Benny laid behind Molly, spooning her, his chin resting on her shoulder. Molly shut her eyes and smiled, then yawned again before speaking.

"What are you reading about?" she asked.

"I am reading about great vacation spots," Olivia said, "just on the off chance we ever get to take a vacation again."

"You have anywhere in particular in mind?" Molly asked.

"Not really, no," Olivia said, "anywhere you've ever wanted to go?"

"When I was a teenager, my parents took me to a lot of national parks. I always liked that," Molly said, "I don't really like the act of camping, per say, and always opt to stay in the cabins or lodges or whatever they have on the grounds for snobs like me, but I do like going. Plus, if I stay in the lodges, I get to check out the architecture, which is always a plus."

"You can check out the architecture in my pants," Benny muttered, half asleep, behind them, making them both laugh.

"Anyway, that's my idea of a good time," Molly said, "for someone who spends their entire life dedicated to the interior of buildings, it's nice to sometimes go outside and get away from all that. Return to the nature, that kind of thing."

"I think that's a fantastic idea," Olivia said, leaning down and kissing Molly on the top of the head, making her blush. Molly had never once considered she'd be a part of something like this, but she was surprised at how easy it all actually was. Molly pulled one of her arms out from under the sheets and looked at her watch.

"Shit," she said, "I need to go to the casino, take measurements for the vault."

"Do you want a ride?" Olivia asked, and Molly nodded.

"That would be really nice, thank you," Molly said.

"I can hang around until you're done, and we can go to lunch," Olivia said, "Benny will be out for a while, so it'd be nice to not be alone."

Molly smiled as she climbed out of bed and started to get dressed. She wondered what she'd done in order to be loved by two different people, but whatever the reason was, she was grateful. Molly pulled on her pants and put on her bra before heading into the attached bathroom and looking at herself in the mirror, pulling her hair back and tying it up when Olivia came in to grab her own clothes from the hamper and then, turning, stopped behind Molly and put her hands on Molly's shoulders, leaning in and kissing her on the neck.

"Whenever you're ready," Olivia said, making Molly blush more.

Yes, right now, life was so good, even in spite of all the crimes they were committing.

                                                                             ***

"You're sure it's her?" Agent Siskel asked as she and Agent Tropper walked through the scene.

"I mean, there's a hole through her head, but that hasn't impacted identification," Agent Tropper replied as he lifted the crime scene tape for them to both go underneath; as he watched Agent Siskel get ahead of him, he jogged to catch up and added, "it might be gruesome to see, for the record."

"You're acting like I've never seen someone shot in the head before," Agent Siskel said, "this isn't my first day on the job."

"I'm just giving you ample warning," Agent Tropper said as they finally reached the body. It was spread on the ground, just like the photos had shown it, and both agents stopped and looked down, somewhat in disbelief. Agent Siskel shook her head as the cops milled about around them, continuing to take notes, clearly waiting on the coroner to show up.

"She didn't deserve this," Agent Siskel whispered, chewing on her nails.

"I mean, she kind of did," Agent Tropper said, shrugging, hands in his coat pockets, "Let's not pretend she was innocent. She knew what she was involved in, she was doing bad things just like everyone else. She opted in. To act as though she was a bystander isn't right."

"Still, she didn't deserve this, I don't care what she did," Agent Siskel said, shaking her head, "this is...this is cold."

"Yeah, well, we knew this was a possible outcome, given everything, when we gave Allie the gun," Agent Tropper said.

Just then they heard a car horn honking back at the road and saw a hearse pull up, the window down as Rachel St Sebastian shouted out the window.

"Get the fuck out of my way, you goddamned bureaucratic crackpot!" she yelled, before parking and climbing out. Agent Tropper and Agent Siskel exchanged a look, unsure if they should even allow her to be involved. Rachel St Sebastian walked through the crowd, past other cops, and under the tape between the trees, finally stopping at the agents.

"Miss Sebastian," Agent Tropper said, reaching out to shake her hand, Agent Siskel doing the same. Way they figured it, best they could do at this point was keep her on their good side. She might become an invaluable asset.

"Didn't know you were such an in demand coroner," Agent Siskel said.

"Not so much that as it is I'm the one willing to do work on murders," Rachel said, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag, "they're often too heavy or uncomfortable for most, so I kind of fill that niche. I don't mind the nastiness of the situation."

"Not surprising, given what you were involved in," Agent Siskel said.

"Yeah, well, that's fair," Rachel replied, "...let me see her."

"You sure?" Agent Tropper asked, "could be...jarring, given your association."

"I need to see her," Rachel said quietly.

She knew full well, just like the agents, that when she'd directed Allie to that empty complex this was one of two outcomes. She just didn't know which to expect. So she walked past the agents and inspected the body, and, in some warped way, she felt so responsible yet so relieved, and that only made her feel worse. Rachel put out her cigarette and tucked it behind her ear, then put her hand over her mouth as she knelt down and inspected the damage. A clean, singular shot through the head. That's all it came down to. Rachel rubbed her eyes and wanted to cry, but she knew this was the best possible situation. She stood up and turned around, facing the agents.

"Do you mind if I bag and tag her?" Rachel asked, reaching into her leather jacket and pulling out some rubber gloves, snapping them over her hands.

"Not at all, do your duty," Agent Tropper said.

So that's what she did. She did her duty. After all, she was somewhat responsible for her death.

                                                                             ***

Molly was sitting at the table in the restaurant after her measurement meeting, poking at her food with her fork, staring at her plate absentmindedly. When she'd gotten there, she didn't expect the lawyer Zoe had mentioned to have been there too, but she seemed to be attached to Tony by the hip, and the whole situation was awkward and made her nervous. She wondered if she'd even taken the correct measurements, in all honesty, because she felt so watched, and what's worse, Tony had had her lie about what the measurements were actually for. He clearly didn't want Raindrop to know what he was planning on doing. How did Molly keep getting dragged into other peoples secrets? She heard a light tapping of a fork on a glass and looked up across the table at Olivia.

"Sorry," Molly mumbled, "sorry, I just...I got lost in my head about work."

"You doing alright?" Olivia asked, and Molly rested her head in her palm, shrugging; Olivia lifted her glass to her lips and took a drink before asking, "you seem, what's the word, absolutely miserable?"

Molly smirked and stabbed some of her chicken salad with her fork, chewing and swallowing before talking.

"I just hate this whole thing, all of it," Molly said, "the whole situation. I don't want to be involved in it, but at the same time, these are the only real friends I've ever made, and I'd be so sad and lonely without them. But I almost want to just recede into the darkness, move away, go somewhere nobody can find me."

"Well how about this, after all of it's said and done, you, me and Benny leave Vegas and go somewhere?" Olivia asked, and Molly's eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"I don't have any stake here," Olivia said, "I'm only staying cause Benny does, and frankly, he's willing to make a change at this point. And you're more than welcome to come with us. You're a part of this, after all."

"I never thought I'd be a part of anything like this," Molly said.

"You mean the crimes or the relationship?" Olivia asked, chuckling, making Molly giggle.

"Both, to be honest," Molly said, "but in this instance I was specifically referring to the relationship. In fact...I've never really felt anything for any woman, and I'm...what I feel here doesn't equal what I feel for Benny, I'm pretty straight, but I have to admit you're comforting and feel safe and are very pretty and kind, and that makes things much easier. Still, it's all very new to me, but the openness of it all and the sexuality side."

"For what it's worth," Olivia said, taking another sip of her drink, "we've never managed to find someone who fit our criteria so well, so you really are a special case. Usually it was either someone Benny really liked, someone I really liked, someone neither of us liked who liked us way too much or some other weird variation on the formula. But you seem to care about us both equally, and we both love you very much, and that's the way it should be."

"I've had bad luck with relationships," Molly said, "so it's...it's kind of healing to be loved by two different people at once."

Olivia smiled and reached across the table, patting Molly's outstretched hand.

"Then we're happy to heal you," she said, smiling warmly, making Molly blush.

Between Zoe's relationship with Effie and Molly's relationship with Benny and Olivia, it seemed like everyone, by the end, would end up more or less better off...except for Allie.

                                                                               ***

Allie and Megan had parked at their old elementary school and walked into the grounds. It was after school, so nobody was there, and they had the entire playground to themselves. The girls seated themselves on the swings, and Allie couldn't help but feel like she should go see her parents, but at the same time, why bother? They never came to see her in the hospital when she'd gotten mauled. For all she cared, she had no family. Except Megan, of course. Megan kicked her shoes off, grabbed the chains of the swing, and started pushing herself, Allie smiling as she watched her cousin actually enjoy herself for a change.

"For what it's worth," Allie said, "Jeff is a dick, and you always deserved better."

"He wasn't always," Megan said, "that was what attracted me to him to begin with. He was a good guy. I think most men just become bored of their complacency in marriage, feel stagnant, miss that rush of being in love, which is sad cause you can have that with your spouse every day forever if you just give enough of a shit to put the effort in."

Allie shrugged. Was Nick the same way? He was what she considered a 'nice guy' - albeit not in the creepy sense - but would he, if they married, become the same kind of person as Jeff? The idea scared her. Course, marriage was not something that was ever on Allie's mind.

"Still," Allie said, "I'm sorry it happened."

"Maybe I wasn't a good enough wife or mother, I don't know."

"Don't let him make you doubt yourself," Allie said, "don't give him that kind of power over you. This decision is his failing, not yours."

Megan nodded as Allie looked around the schoolyard and sighed.

"Doesn't seem so long ago, does it?" she asked, and Megan shook her head; Allie continued, "you don't realize how quickly it's passing. It was all over so fast even when it felt like it was taking an eternity. I miss the simplicity of adolescence. I mean, sure, it had its hang ups. Not everything was cut and dry, black and white, it was still messy and emotional, but it isn't like life is now. I don't like how life is now."

"You're not planning on killing yourself, are you?" Megan asked, smirking, making Allie laugh.

"No, but if I were, this would be a great suicide note wouldn't it?" she asked, the both of them laughing now; Allie added, "but you know what I mean, like, I wanna go back somehow. I think that's what this little trip was about. Going back. Even if only briefly. I know I can't go back fully, but at least I can get this small bit of respite from an otherwise regularly convoluted life."

The girls sat and swang, listening to the breeze pass through the trees overhead.

"I miss doing magic with you," Megan said, surprising Allie, who looked at her wide eyed; Megan said, "I really do. It gave me stability, a sense of accomplishment."

"And mother hasn't?" Allie asked, making Megan chuckle.

"No, I feel completely unfullfilled by having raised a child, you got me," Megan said, "worst decision I ever made."

The girls cackled together, and it felt nice to connect like this again, in the way they used to.

"But you know what I mean," Megan said, "if you ever need a third person, or Zoe ever decides to finally come to her senses and leave you, you know where to find me."

"Yeah, home, alone, moping because your husband left and your child doesn't fill the gaping black void in your heart," Allie said, the girls laughing loudly again. They smiled at one another in a way they hadn't since they were young, and then they swang together in silence. It was nice, to be supported by a family member. Allie could recall the very first time she successfully pulled off a trick in front of her mother, eager for her approval, and instead all she got was disinterest. Allie could remember saying, repeatedly, "You're not looking!" and her mother casually claiming she was, despite never raising her eyes to her daughters efforts. And then Allie showed that same trick to Megan, and Megan decided she wanted to do magic too. Between Megan, Zoe and, by proxy of her tiger attack, Nick, Allie's most important relationships had been built on the back of magic.

One could say her luck was in the cards.

"This is a rare treat! A once in a lifetime opportunity to win a car of this caliber, and all you have to do is what you already love to do...gamble!" Tony said, standing in front of a beautiful sports car on a rotating round display, adding, "so come on down to Card Shark and you could win big big big! But you gotta hurry, cause this thing is about to speed on outta here at the hands of the first lucky son a gun who manages to snag it!"

With that the camera cut and Tony relaxed. He turned and looked at the car, wiping his face down with a handtowel as someone approached him from behind. It was the guy who cut all his commercial footage together for the various casinos, a man by the name of Ricky. Tall, lanky, a fluff of dark black hair and a constant five o' clock shadow, he looked like what a video editor is expected to look like if central casting had sent him.

"What'd you think?" Tony asked, and Ricky nodded.

"It was ace, man," he replied, "Short, sweet, direct. Exactly enough to capture the fractured attention span of the people gambling."

Tony laughed and patted Ricky on the back as he turned and headed for the bar. He sat down and ordered a drink, before he noticed a woman sitting beside him and smirked.

"Hello Allie," he said. Allie slowly turned her head to face him, looking as though she'd seen a ghost; Tony looked surprised at her appearance, and asked, "you doing okay? You're not drinking, are you?"

"No, not at all," Allie replied, "I just didn't sleep well last night."

The bartender dropped Tony's drink in front of him and he picked it up and left, wishing Allie a better nights sleep. But the thing was, Allie hadn't slept well in weeks now. Not since the incident. Allie eventually got her food and left the bar, heading back up to her suite and settling into her couch with the giant TV on mute. She'd been self isolating lately, wanting to be as uninvolved with anything but work as much as possible. She flipped through the channels until she landed on a nature program about tigers, and her eyes swelled with tears. Domino. She wanted to see Domino so bad. The door opened and Nick entered, tossing his jacket onto the couch before realizing Allie was sitting there with her basket of wings in her lap. He laughed as he sat down next to her and picked one of them out of the basket and bit into it.

"Sorry, didn't know you'd be right there," Nick said, before looking at Allie while chewing and narrowing his eyes in a concerned manner, asking, "...hey, babe, you okay?"

"...I have done terrible things," Allie whispered.

"So you've been involved in a few unsavory things, they were accidents. Jenny doesn't blame you. Tony has given you so many chances. And I'll never judge you. Come here."

Nick pulled the basket of wings from her lap and set them on the ottoman in front of them, then pulled Allie into his chest and held her close, stroking her hair. Allie started to weep, as Nick whispered sweet nothings in her ear. She knew so much of it wasn't her fault directly, but there was so much more Nick didn't know. She'd killed two people now, and she didn't care about whether others would ever forgive her...she cared about whether she could ever forgive herself.

                                                                           ***

"You know what I'll never understand?" Benny asked, "who arbitrarily decided what counts as breakfast food? Like, why are eggs considered a breakfast food, but not, say, lobster?"

"People eat eggs with lobster all the time," Molly replied, "what are you talking about?"

"Yeah but those people are rich and live in their own fantasy world, they don't count," Benny said, making Molly chuckle as she stabbed more scrambled eggs onto the end of her fork, lifting it to her mouth and eating as Benny added, "but you know what I mean, right? Why one thing and not another, and who was the person who made these calls? Were they a self appointed party of were they given the responsibility at, like, the start of more modern civilization to come up with what exactly we eat in the morning."

"I'd wager it's nutrition based," Molly said, tossing her curly bangs from her face, adding, as she chewed, "they probably pooled the nutrition of many foods and decided these were what gave us the most energy or whatever throughout the day."

Benny laughed as he picked up some bacon and bit into it, nodding in agreement. The two of them were sitting in a diner called Angie's right next door to the casino, but wasn't owned by the casino, a place the group went often. It was actually the early evening, but Benny and Molly often had breakfast for dinner, it had become somewhat of a tradition. Molly picked up her coffee cup and took a sip before looking up at Benny and smirking.

"What?" she asked, "why are you staring at me?"

"Well, you're in my immediate view, the hell else am I gonna look at?" Benny asked, making her laugh before adding, "but also, cause you're absolutely beautiful, and it makes me happy to see you happy."

Molly stopped eating, bit her lip and sniffled. She still wasn't used to this. This kind of kindness and love that Benny gave her. She felt so very very lucky. After a few moments, she looked up and smiled back at him as he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. Truthfully, they weren't just here for the food though...they were here because, in about an hour down the street, Jackson Strange would be doing an impromptu performance on the street, and they still needed as much recon work on his magic as possible if they were going to pull off their heist. Molly set her mug down and pushed her glasses up her face, blushing.

"You think Allie will be there?" she asked, and Benny grimaced, shrugging.

"Hard to say, ain't seen her really since that night," he replied.

Allie had been keeping a low profile, it was true, but not as low as Zoe.

                                                                          ***

Zoe was standing in the stage room, looking at the plans for her and Allie's next show - where to place props for easiest and quickest access, those types of details - when she heard the doors open and turned to see Tony and a woman walking into the room. Zoe put her papers down and turned to face them.

"Don't mind us," Tony said, "we're just doing some detailing of the area for insurance purposes."

"Expecting a fire?" Zoe asked.

"With magic? You never know," Tony said, chuckling, making Zoe laugh a little. The woman he was with was well dressed, tight fitting suit jacket, starched collar button down shirt and a pencil skirt, her shoes sensible but fashionable, her hair perfectly cut and clean down to her shoulders with fringe bangs. She stopped and jotted something down on a little notepad in her hand before turning to face Zoe.

"You must be one of the resident performers," she said, reaching her hand out, "I'm Raindrop Mullens."

"Your name is Raindrop?" Zoe asked, trying not to laugh.

"My parents were hippies, blame them, not me," Raindrop replied, "I had contemplated getting it changed for many years but...at this point, I'll just wait until they're dead so as not to disappoint them for their awful life choices that actively impact me every day."

Raindrop turned and continued walking, taking more notes as Tony stopped beside Zoe, arms folded, the two of them watching her.

"She seems fun," Zoe said, making Tony chuckle.

"Yeah, well, lawyers are lawyers," Tony replied, "listen, I saw Allie at the bar earlier, she's not drinking right? She told me she isn't, but I figured I'd ask you since you're like her partner and best friend."

"She's not, believe me, I'd know," Zoe said.

"Good, good. We need that girl to remain sober," Tony remarked, "getting her on the wagon was almost impossible, and I just...I can't bear to watch her do that to herself again. To those around her. I grew up with a father who was a crippling alcoholic, so I know what it can take from you firsthand, you know what I mean?"

Zoe nodded, watching Raindrop inspect and investigate things, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Tony, why do you need a lawyer?" she asked again.

"I told you, insurance purposes," Tony said, "it's umbrella insurance, Zoe. It isn't for one particular thing. Running an entertainment venue, multiple as well, can be a tricky business. It isn't just about violence or theft, there's people getting sick from the food, accidents, things of that nature. I just needed better coverage. Plus, what with the casinos cash earnings, I need to be protected as well. For god sakes, girl, I'm offering a car in the front room! What if someone were to steal it?"

He laughed again, patted her on the back and started following Raindrop once more as they moved on through the venue. Zoe watched, tapping her pen on her clipboard and chewing her lip. She hadn't expected the fact that the car might be a liability as a win. Zoe would hit the internet after this. She needed to do some research.

                                                                                ***

The crowd had gathered, though not as big as Molly and Benny had expected, to see Jackson Strange's public performance. Standing amongst the other people, Molly couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. Crowds made her anxious, and she started to physically shrink into herself, until she felt Benny come up behind her, wrap his arms around her and rest his head on her shoulder. She smiled, blushed and untensed, relaxing.

"This guy is a goddamn enigma," Benny said, "why continue to do street shows if you're already a well known performer in a large venue?"

"Gotta keep driving buzz somehow, I figure," Molly replied, and Benny nodded.

"I guess that makes sense," Benny said, "there is something admirable about an artist who stays true to the origins of their craft long after attaining fame and fortune. Like when a big name director still goes and makes indie films. That's always cool, to know they don't forget where they came from, how they got to where they are now."

"I wouldn't call Jackson Strange an artist, but the metaphor lands regardless," Molly said, making Benny chuckle and kiss her cheek. Just then, Allie sidled up beside Molly, who looked genuinely happy to see her. Allie was wearing a windbreaker, her hair messy around her face - as though it had been days since she'd showered - and her entire demeanor was reminiscent of someone in mourning.

"Good to see you out of the suite," Molly said, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I ate nothing but wings this afternoon," Allie said glumly, "and then Nick came home and I cried all over him. Does it sound like I'm okay?"

"Not really, no, we're just being polite and asking," Benny remarked, making Allie smirk. She appreciated Benny's sense of humor, always capable of taking a situation and making light of it, regardless of how grim it is. Allie turned her focus back to the focal point and sighed.

"So," Allie said, "he isn't here yet?"

"If he were here, we'd be watching a magic show," Benny said, checking his watch, "but at this point I'm starting to doubt his ability to show up on time. What kind of magician is late to his own performance? That's just unprofessional is what that is."

Allie chuckled, then felt a tug on her sleeve. She turned and saw Zoe there, who motioned with Allie to follow her. Allie glanced back at Molly and Benny - the latter of which was nuzzling his face into Molly's neck, making her laugh - and decided she could slip away rather undetected. She joined Zoe a bit away from the crowd and around the corner of a nearby building.

"What's going on?" Allie asked.

"Tony brought a lawyer by the casino," Zoe said.

"Not unsurprising, Zoe, casinos are a hotbed for stuff that lawyers are involved in," Allie replied, shrugging.

"No, but he said that with the new promotion, the car in the front, if someone steals it, he could be at a loss," Zoe said, "so I started to wonder...what happens when someone wins a car in a casino?"

Just then Benny and Molly joined them.

"What are we talking about?" Molly asked.

"Say Benny wins the car," Zoe said.

"I won a car? Sweet," Benny said, making Molly laugh.

"He'll have to pay the income tax. He'll get a 1099 for misc income, not w2-g. So it can't be deducted by gambling loss. Don't know the exact amount, but theoretically it could be the MSRP of the car, meaning if he took the $30K cash, it would be $30K. There is a value for the car and there are taxes on that value. Just like winning on the price is right or some other merchandise focused game show, there's no sales tax as it wasn't sold, it was won. Other fees may also apply as in purchase to make it road legal."

"What kind of car did I win?" Benny asked.

"Zoe, why are you so invested in this?" Allie asked, shrugging, confused.

"Any earnings of $600 or more require the winner to fill out unique tax forms, typically a 1099-MISC. This almost guarantees that the car you win will be subjected to payments to the IRS. Cars won as prizes are subject to taxes calculated on their fair market value," Zoe continued, "do you see what I'm getting at? Tony is being watched by the IRS, right? So what's he do? He puts a car up as a prize in the casino. Something that's deductable by loss, you know, in case someone steals it."

"...go on," Allie mumbled, now curious where she was headed with this.

"Say Benny wins a drawing for a car and was offered 40k cash or the car," Zoe said.

"Dude, this is my lucky day," Benny interjected, making them all laugh.

"Let's just say it's 55k msrp," Zoe continued, "and say he wanted to avoid the car tax situation, so he chose cash. Then they asked about free play and or cash, he can go with half and half, so he ended up with 20k 1099. Then he's liable for federal and state taxes, minus any applicable gambling losses. Let's say 22% fed, and 9% state.....approx 31%, all based on average tax bracket of course...could go up if you make a lot more, but I'm just using this bracket just as an example. That's if he takes the cash option. The car option, however, 1099....taxes paid fully by him, and no using gambling losses to soften. What percentage of the car's value are you looking at tax-wise on 1099? Plus or minus the approximate 31% you'd pay on W2? If the car is 61k....what percentage of that 61k car value would you be liable for?"

"This is a lot of math and it's hurting my head," Benny said.

"Well then stop being so damn successful in the casino," Molly said, hitting him playfully in the arm.

"What if Tony hires someone to win the car, rigs the game so this person can win it," Zoe said, "suddenly the car is taxable to the IRS because, let's face it, the car option is worth far more than the cash option. Suddenly his business gets a write off and he's in the clear, financially. Why else would he hire a lawyer all of a sudden? Why else would he put a car as a prize option when that's never been a thing before that he's done? He's gaining the system by exploitining it from within thanks to his own power over the situation, being capable of manipulating it to his will."

"He's preparing to cover his ass," Allie muttered under her breath, before looking back at Zoe and adding, "goddamn, Zoe, good job. I never would've suspect that as something to be worth investigating."

"The whole thing just struck me as so weird," Zoe said as they started to head back to the crowd around the corner, "you know, like..."

The group stopped and stared from afar, watching as Jackson Strange made his appearance finally before the crowd.

"Like him," Zoe finally finished, "he's also weird."

"There's no argument about that," Benny replied.

Standing there, Allie chewed on her lip and thought about why Strange would be getting residency in the casino. Tony already had enough entertainment, why bring one more onto the scene? But she knew she could use him, either as a scapegoat, or as a means to get into the vault. Whatever the case may be, Strange would prove to be useful to her in the end, she knew. But first she had to figure out how his invisible box trick worked.

                                                                            ***

Agent Siskel was sitting in her desk chair, legs up on the desktop, head craned back as she stared at the ceiling. The door to her office opened and Agent Tropper stepped inside. He shut the door behind him, then jammed his hands into his pants pockets and stopped in front of her desk. After a moment, he looked up and noticed Agent Siskel had thrown a dozen sticky hands up onto the ceiling and he chuckled.

"Seems like you've been putting your time to good use," he said.

"The whole thing's a wash," Agent Siskel remarked, shrugging, "why bother anymore. No matter how close I get, I can't get close enough. I'm like a runner who can't reach the finish line because it keeps fucking moving. Everytime I think I see the end of the race, it gets shifted back another five feet. So why bother trying."

"Well, somebody's optimistic," Agent Tropper said, "listen, you might be bummed now, but I'm about to bring you information that is going to cheer you right up. Are you prepared for that?"

"I don't think there's any level of information that could return the joy to my career," Agent Siskel mumbled.

"That's where you're wrong, my depressed friend," Agent Tropper said, "because pop your peepers on this."

With that, he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded pile of papers from the pocket, tossing them onto her desk. Agent Siskel eyeballed him weirdly, then leaned forward and took the papers into her hands, unfolding them and reading through them, her entire expression and demeanor changing as she did. After a minute, she looked up at him in stunned silence.

"Yeah, thought you'd like that," Agent Tropper said, grinning.

"Where...where did you get this?" Agent Siskel asked.

"From my friend in forensics, from his girlfriend who's a mortician," Agent Tropper said.

"That's..." Agent Siskel said, pointing at the papers, glossy and floppy.

"Yep. That's her body," Agent Tropper replied, "so I think we have a lead."

                                                                         ***

Megan picked up the landline hanging on the wall of her kitchen and raised the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked, sounding exasperated, "...Allie? Well this is a surprise. What are you calling me for?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to take a trip home," Allie said.

"You don't think I'm evil, do you?" Claire asked, sitting at Rachel's kitchen table the morning after they'd buried yet another person in the wall of the abandoned apartment complex. Rachel, stood at the counter, was stirring her coffee with a spoon and exhaled, then shook her head.

"No, Claire, I don't think you're evil," she replied, "I think you're sick, and that that illness makes you do evil things. And that isn't the case for every sick person, but it's the case in this situation. But the nice thing about illness is that it doesn't define you, so no, you're not evil. But we have to stop doing this. It's going to get bad if we don't, and someone will catch you."

Claire nodded, reaching onto the table for a poppyseed muffin and, after unwrapped the bottom, taking a big bite out of it. Rachel seated herself at the table as well, sipping her coffee as Claire chewed.

"...what if I killed someone without being off my medication? Would that make me evil?" Claire asked.

"Depends on the situation, honestly," Rachel said, shrugging, "there's self defense, other morality based rationalizations, what have you. Just depends. But let's hope you never have to find out."

Claire nodded again, chewing silently. If only she knew what the future held.

                                                                              ***

"Hey," Benny said, approaching Molly on the couch, covered in a blanket, "you okay?"

"I feel...dumb," she said softly, "everyone has left, obviously it's okay to, maybe we overreacted. I don't know. I just feel dumb. And I also feel dumb for being duped so easily, repeatedly. First by the guy I dated in high school, then by Allie, and then by this girl. Why do people like to lie to me?"

Benny shrugged as he seated himself on the arm of the couch, opening a bag of cookies and reaching in, handing one to Molly before biting into one himself.

"I don't think it's a personal thing," he said, half chewing, "I think...people can often tell what other people are like, you know, what kind of person they are? They meet you, they see you're sweet and understanding and compassionate. They wanna take advantage of that, and sadly those traits more often than not entice assholes, not others who share them. But that isn't your fault, nor should you be ashamed of being that way."

Molly blushed as she bit into the cookie as well, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment. Finally the apartment door opened, and Olivia entered. She waved at Benny, who got up and exited into the bathroom while Olivia pulled her jacket off and, still in her blackjack uniform, seated herself on the couch beside Molly. Molly handed her the bag of cookies, which she happily took and reached into.

"You doing okay?" Olivia asked, and Molly chuckled.

"Benny just asked me that," she replied, "but I don't know, I guess? It's really hard to say."

Olivia set the bag of cookies down on the other side of herself, then reached out and took one of Molly's hands, squeezing gently. Molly looked over, blushing.

"...to pull you in the way they did is despicable, but they do clearly care," Olivia said, "and that...that's something you can't shake a fist at. It's so hard to find people in this world who genuinely want the best for you. Even rarer if they aren't direct family. I know not all families are great, but even still. But you're clearly cared about, by them, and by us, okay? You can stay here as long as you want, it's okay, I would't blame you for being too scared to go home."

Molly nodded, on the verge of tears. Olivia leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and that did it. Molly finally broke, and laid her head against Olivia's chest, sobbing. Olivia simply held her, stroking her hair as Benny re-emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands on his pants. He smiled at the sight, as Olivia nodded to him, smiling back. They would be okay, and Molly would be okay, because they had her now.

                                                                               ***

Zoe was sitting at the bar in the casino, sipping on a soda, staring at the wood grain finish on the bartop when she heard a stool pull out beside her. She glanced over and saw Effie, who smiled happily at her.

"Where you been?" Effie asked, "I've been trying to reach you for hours."

"...I had an emergency...well, Molly had an emergency, so Allie and I went to help her," Zoe said softly, "she's...she's fine though, like, no need to worry. Everything's okay now."

"Well I was gonna take you to dinner tonight, but seeing as it's already almost 7, maybe we-"

"I'd like that, if we could still go," Zoe said, catching Effie by surprise.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you wanna do," Effie replied, smiling happily, pulling Zoe's hand to her lips and kissing it, "whatever you want, okay?"

Whatever Zoe wanted? She wanted a night of normalcy. Of comfort. Of stability. She wanted things she knew she'd never have as long as she was attached to Allie Meers. Oh sure, at first working for your heroes seems like a dream come true, but it's anything but. She finally understood the old phrase 'never meet your heroes', because since meeting Allie, all her life had done was become worse. Sure, she was successful beyond her wildest dreams, but was success worth everything else that had come with it? And then it hit her. Zoe turned and looked at Effie, who was piling snack mix from the bowl on the bartop into her mouth, and Zoe smiled. The success sure wasn't, but Effie was. And if she hadn't become involved with Allie, the chances of meeting Effie, and thus being her open honest self, likely would've never happened.

Maybe meeting your heroes wasn't so bad after all.

                                                                             ***

Allie was sitting in a car outside the location Claire had given her, in the backseat while Agents Siskel and Tropper were in the front. They'd been parked here for a good fifteen minutes, nobody saying a damn thing. Finally, Allie reached out, fingers clutching the doorhandle, when she felt Agent Siskel reaching back, grabbing at her knee. Allie stopped and looked up at her.

"You're gonna need protection," she said, "I'm going to give you a gun, okay? You don't have to use it, but just know that you can. And we'll be right outside."

"I...I don't...I don't know that I've ever used a gun," Allie muttered, surprised.

"It's not difficult, it's already loaded, it's ready to go, all you have to do is aim and pull the trigger," Agent Siskel said as she pulled a small black handgun from the bag in front of her and handed it back to Allie, who took it hesitantly; Siskel, brushing her hair from her eyes, then added, "Allie, it's just a last resort, okay? We don't know what Claire might do. I don't think she'd hurt you, but you never know. It's better to be safe than sorry."

Allie nodded, taking the gun and putting it in the interior pocket of her coat. She then climbed out of the car and looked up at the building, where she spotted someone looking down at her, before they quickly pulled back in through the window. Allie exhaled, and then headed up the stairs and into the building through the front doors. Once inside, she could see this wasn't a building anyone used. This was clearly picked because it was abandoned. Allie balled her hands into fists and headed up to the room Claire had told her to go to. Step by step her heart quickened, terrified of what it was she might find at the top.

She finally reached the hallway, the door on the right, room 317. Allie stopped and stared at the numbers on the plaque. Whatever lay behind this door...whatever she walked into...there was no coming back from it. This was it. This was a turning point. Allie exhaled, reached into her pocket, her hand gripped around the gun, and then she turned the doorknob. Once inside, she found a completely empty apartment. She furrowed her brow in confusion, before walking further inside. She hadn't imagined it. She'd seen someone in here. She knew she had. She headed to the bathroom. Nobody. The bedroom. Nobody. The kitchen. Nobody. What was going on? Finally she was in the guest bedroom, and as she turned back to re-enter the living room, she stopped. Standing there in the doorway was Rachel St. Claire.

"Jesus!" Allie shouted, "what the fuck?! Why are you-"

"Shhh," Rachel said, putting a finger to her lips, "you need to go here."

Rachel walked forward slowly and slipped a piece of paper into Allie's hands which had new directions to a building a few blocks away. Allie looked at it, confused, and suddenly realized this room was a decoy. Claire probably knew Allie had been picked up, and knew that she'd have the agents with her, so she gave a decoy room so that the agents wouldn't stop whatever it was they had to do. Allie looked at Rachel, her eyes squinting, trying not to cry.

"I'm scared," she whispered, and Rachel nodded, almost in tears too.

"You should be," she replied, which sent a chill down Allie's spine.

                                                                                ***

Molly was asleep on the couch, her head in Olivia's lap, Benny sitting on Olivia's other side. Molly hadn't been asleep in almost three days, and she couldn't stay up any longer, even when driven by fear. Benny and Olivia were watching TV as Molly snored lightly. Benny glanced down at her, then up to Olivia, and they laughed quietly at one another while Olivia continued to lose her fingers in Molly's hair.

"What do we do here?" Benny asked.

"I think we do exactly what we're doing," Olivia replied, shrugging, "I mean, why complicate things when they're so obviously simple. If you're asking what you're asking for the reasons I think you are."

"I definitely am," Benny said, reaching over and holding Olivia's free hand.

Benny had absolutely no qualms about bringing a third into this relationship, especially if that third was Molly Hatchet. Since the moment she'd come into his and Olivia's life, they'd both instantly taken a liking to her, more than that of platonic too. They'd been in an open relationship for years, but they'd never met someone who properly fit their criteria of someone to add as a third until Molly.

Olivia lost her fingers in Molly's hair while Benny turned his attention back to the television. Perhaps, he thought, even if things went further down the drain in terms of Allie's plan, if nothing else good came of this entire situation, one thing had and that one thing had been meeting Molly. And for Molly? Despite being scared out of her mind, and not having slept in days, she actually felt safe enough to do just that here, in their presence. Because she felt like no matter what, if anything did happen, Benny and Olivia would protect her.

Sometimes, it turns out, you meet the right people by knowing the wrong people.

                                                                             ***

Zoe stared at the appetizers in front of her, while Effie leaned back in her chair, sipping from her wine glass, watching Zoe closely. Zoe reached out and picked up one of the deviled eggs from the plate and bit into it slowly, almost as if she was uncertain whether it was poisoned or not. Effie could tell something was wrong, but she wasn't exactly sure how to broach the issue. Finally, after a long wait, Effie sighed, set her drink back down on the table and leaned forward.

"What's going on with you, man?" she asked, causing Zoe to look up at her, surprised; Effie continued, "you haven't been okay in months. I know Allie is making things difficult, but...fuck, Zoe, if she's really making things that hard, maybe it's time to consider the alternative."

"I don't want the alternative," Zoe mumbled.

"Well, you're not happy now, so what else is there? Listen, you're talented enough on your own, okay? I know that, your sister knows that, even Allie knows that. You could, at this point, strike out to make a name for yourself and leave Allie in the dust, and I know that sucks to hear because she's your friend and your partner but...but I don't think I've seen you genuinely happy in over half a year."

"It isn't just Allie," Zoe said quietly, taking another small bite from a deviled egg, "it's everything...it's...people might believe in me, but I'm not sure that I do, and...and I can't abandon her. I can't do what her cousin did."

"You are not responsible for a grown ass womans career, and especially not for her sense of self, okay?" Effie asked, reaching out and taking Zoe's free hand in her own, rubbing the back of it with her thumb gently, adding, "Zoe, you're your own person. You're allowed to be an individual. I will support you, alright? Even if you wind up not wanting to do magic, or, by some act of some kind of god being bad at it solo, I'll support you then too, okay? Because I love you, and I wanna help you be happy and satisfied, and right now you're not either."

Zoe nodded gently. Effie wasn't wrong. But Zoe felt such shame attached to wanting to leave Allie behind. After all, all of this was, more or less, Zoe's fault. If she hadn't been assigned as her partner in the first place, none of this would've ever happened. She looked up and her eyes sparkled at the sight of Effie's face, lit by table candlelight, and she smiled for the first time in days.

"I love you," Zoe whispered, making Effie blush.

"I love you too," she replied, pulling her hand up to her lips and kissing it gently.

Seemed like everywhere you looked, everyone was finding peace. Everyone except Allie Meers.

                                                                              ***

Allie stood in front of the door, once again faced with the realization that whatever was on the other side of it, she wasn't sure she wanted to face. But she had to. She had to. She had no other choice. Rachel would keep the agents at bay, and they had no idea where she currently was. Allie swallowed, blinked a few times, then opened the door to the empty apartment loft. Dark, drafty, and sitting in the middle of the room was a chair with a woman tied to it. Allie approached, just as Claire came out from the nearby bathroom, washing her hands. The two women stopped and Claire smiled and waved at Allie.

"I've got a bit of a problem with germs," Claire said, as she wiped her hands on her pants.

"And yet you kill people," Allie said, "the most digusting, germ ridden act one could perform."

"Please, sex is worse. That level of intimacy? Disgusting. No form of protection could prevent you from getting too familiar with your partners personal body fluids," Claire said, causing Allie to make a face. Claire sat on a stool in front of the chair, and Allie slowly, cautiously, came around beside her, looking at the woman she now knew as Kristin.

"This is her?" Allie asked, and Claire nodded.

"This is her," she replied, "in all her backstabbing glory. Funny what people will do to those they claim to love, isn't it? Not to mention manipulative. She chose the easiest one of us to get involved with, because she knew how easy Molly was to trick. Which begs the question...how much does her employer actually know about this? Does he know that Tony is trying to build a vault? Or did they just pick the most accessible one because of accessibility sake?"

"Let's ask her," Allie said, approaching Kristin and ripping the tape off her mouth. Her eyes were red, dark circles underneath, and her hair an absolute mess. She looked like she'd been drugged or crying; Allie then backed away and, one hand in her coat pocket gripping the handle of the pistol, she asked, "we need some answers from you, okay?"

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know, I already told her that," Kristin said, nodding towards Claire, who just scoffed and rolled her eyes, causing Allie to glance at her. Claire then leaned in towards Allie, her voice a dull whisper.

"She can tell us whatever we want to know but that's not going to stop her from going back to her boss and telling him everything that just happened here. For all we know, all her boss is after is Tony, and his money. But now we're involved. Now she's got faces. That paints a target on our backs, Meers. Be very careful with how you approach this, because at this point, I don't think she can be trusted," Claire said quietly, Allie nodding in agreement.

"Why did you want Molly's blueprints?" Allie asked, turning back to face Kristin now.

"Because my boss told me that he had a sneaking suspicion that Tony was cutting back his funds," she replied, "and Tony's his biggest benefactor, so that's not good for business. Whatever else is going on here, I have no fucking idea. My boss thinks Tony had his daughter stalked by the police, causing her so much distress she eventually took her own life, but not before turning info on him to those who'd been asking. He's...not very happy with the current situation."

"I would imagine not," Allie said, grabbing Claire by the shoulder and pulling her off the stool and a little ways away; she cleared her throat and said, "she knows absolutely nothing. That being said...you aren't wrong. She could just as easily go back to him, tell him who else is involved, which if he then shares that information with Tony, he'll know something is up and I can't have him getting suspicious. I need him to trust me for the time being."

"Then do what has to be done," Claire remarked, her eyes narrowing, "do what you know you have to in order to have security."

Allie looked over her shoulder at Kristin, who appeared absolutely terrified, and she sighed.

"I don't think I can," Allie said.

"You're capable of greater things than you can imagine," Claire replied, putting her hands on Allie's shoulders, holding her steady as she said, "you're the goddamned Astounding Allie, after all. Look at how far you've come. When you set your mind to something, you can accomplish that. That's where we're alike."

That threw Allie off. She looked up into Claire's eyes and thought about what Agent Siskel had said to her. She didn't want to be alike to someone like Claire. She wasn't a murderer. She wasn't a cult leader. She wasn't anything like Claire. Except...she was. She just couldn't accept it, and denial was easier. Allie tightened her grip on the handle of the pistol, Claire completely unaware it was even in her jacket, and Allie felt her index finger come around the front of the trigger as she slowly raised it up so the barrel aligned with Claire's gut. It would be so easy. It would be so quick. It would incapacitate her, catch her completely off guard...but...but Claire had helped her so much. She could probably help her more. This woman, however, this Kristin or whatever her name actually was...she was a loose end. A thread that if tugged at even ever so gently would unspool and entire web of lies that would all lead back to Allie.

"Take care of this Allie," Claire said, "be the magician that you are, and make her disappear."

Allie gritted her teeth as Claire walked back towards the chair that held Kristin. Allie couldn't take it anymore. Everything that had happened in the past year, everything that had come as a direct result of killing Sunny...it had all led to this, and this pressure was eating her away inside. She could do the right thing. She could kill Claire Driscoll, kill a serial killer, and be hailed a hero. She could go with Kristin to her boss, to the governor, and take him down with the agents from the inside. She could make this take an entirely different turn. All she had to do was pull the trigger. Gun Claire down in the back right now. Allie felt her eyes well up with tears, and she pulled the pistol slowly from her coat pocket, then aimed. Two different women, two vastly different paths, all she had to do was make a choice.

"Hey," Allie said.

And then she fired.

Allie Meers had believed that these agents were after her for something very specific, so to be told it was something entirely different? That kind of messed with her. She clicked her nails nervously on the table as Agent Tropper went to refill all of their coffee mugs, leaving just Allie and Agent Siskel alone in the room. Allie finally looked back up and caught Siskel's eyes, who just smiled politely at her.

"I don't get it," Allie said, "I...I really don't. I killed someone. I stole their corpse, fed it to a tiger and then accidentally nearly fatally injured another person as a result of that decision. And you're telling me all of that is...is not what I'm being held for?"

"I won't lie, at first it was," Siskel said, "when we first started looking into it, we thought we were just looking at a simple murder. But we met with Sunny's sister and she...well, let's just say she was less pleased with her fathers actions than we'd assumed she would be. As it turns out, she's the one he put in charge of all the financial aspects of his time in office, which includes paper trails leading directly back to Tony and other casino owners. All of them have been funding his campaign, in exchange for tax dodges on their property, their earnings, etc. Once we realized what we actually had, the death of Sunny became less of a crime and more of an open invitation to uncover a bigger crime. That isn't to say you wouldn't be held responsible for your actions, but we are willing to cut a deal in exchange for your assistance in taking Tony and, in effect, the governor down as well."

"This is...insane," Allie said as Tropper handed her back her mug.

"Tell me about it," he mumbled, seating himself once again and taking a long drink.

"I just...I don't understand. Why are you assuming I'd be able to help?" Allie asked, cupping her mug between her hands and leaning back in her chair.

"Because we know of your relationship with Tony. We know how close the two of you are. It's no secret. It's a pretty open industry acknowledgement. This is why you're the perfect candidate to help, because he trusts you, and it'd be easy for you to gain access to things others wouldn't be able to," Tropper said.

"Basically, Allie, in exchange for the expunging of your crimes, you'll help us get to the bottom of this massive financial crime," Siskel said, "and please say yes, because we went through absolute hell to get you here. I was starting to think that we'd just never meet and get the chance to talk. Hence why we, well, kidnapped you."

Allie nodded, taking a long sip and thinking. Tony was a tax cheat? Unsurprising. He seemed the type. But to help fund the governors campaign elections and other goals? That part she had trouble believing. Tony didn't seem like a criminal really. Not this kind of criminal anyway. And could she really betray that trust that he'd instilled in her?

"He's been kind of like a father to me," Allie whispered, looking into her mug, "he...he saw my potential, he gave me places to stay while I got successful, he gave me my own show at his casino, then moved me to his newer casino, he gave me an assistant, helped me get sober - in a manner of speaking - and so much more. I...I don't know if I could...I mean, I'd feel terrible if I had a hand in hurting him or his family. He IS family. Far more than my family ever was."

Siskel nodded, sighing. She knew Allie and Tony had a close relationship, but she also knew Allie was desperate to be free of all this drama.

"...I don't really care what happens to me," Allie said, "but what I DO want is total exonoration of everyone else involved, specifically Molly Hatchet and Zoe Fitch. They don't deserve to be held accountable for my actions. If you want to go easy on me too, that'd be nice, but I'd gladly take jail time in order for them to walk free."

Siskel and Tropper exchanged a look, and then, after looking back at Allie, both nodded.

"Fine," Siskel said, "your friends won't be charged with anything. We'll still cut you a break, but you're going to have to take some kind of sentence, despite your helping us. That sounds fair."

"Fine then," Allie said, sitting up straight now, feeling more confident, "especially Molly, because unlike Zoe, she was completely unaware of what was going on until semi recently. She was just an architect Tony hired to help build the new casino and the vault, so she-"

"Wait wait, vault?" Tropper asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Allie said, "he's having her build a vault underneath the second casino that only he can access. But we're building a backdoor entrance into it. I...I figured you guys knew that."

"...why would he need a vault?" Siskel asked, confused.

"Your guess is as good as mine, lady," Allie remarked, "but honestly, my best guess if your info is good, he probably is trying to hide his assets in it. Can't keep it in the bank. That's too obvious. Too easy to monitor. Otherwise I have no idea. I'm surprised you guys didn't know that already."

Siskel sighed and ran her hands down over her face, feeling annoyed. After all this time, all this effort, there was still somehow information she wasn't privvy to, and that bothered her. Made her feel like she wasn't as good an agent as she had thought she was. Tropper cleared his throat and leaned forward.

"You say you're building a backdoor?" he asked.

"Yes," Allie said, "but it's tricky. It needs to not be noticeable by Tony or anyone else, yet accessible by those who know how to get to it. Molly's been spending weeks on this at this point, and we still haven't really cracked it. We started looking at a street magician named Jackson Strange for inspiration because of his plastic box trick."

"Plastic box trick?" Tropper asked.

"He's an illusionist," Siskel said, surprising both Tropper and Allie with her knowledge of this as she added, "he does his stuff generally in public areas, hence the street magician title, and he has this thing where he uses a seemingly clear plastic box that he encases himself in, suspended from the air by a crane, and then escapes from. He's doing it soon."

"Exactly," Allie said, pointing at her, "and we were going to see him do it, try and figure out how he gets out of something that everyone can see through. Because that's the kind of trickery we need to access this vault. Something that can't really be seen by the human eye, or those at least mostly unaware."

Siskel nodded. Allie was...much smarter than she'd given her credit for initially, and she felt bad about that. For so long, she just figured those around her were so adept at helping her or that she was so stupidly lucky that that was how she'd managed to always stay ahead of them, but now she was seeing just how intelligent Allie Meers actually was.

"So...what's the plan then?" Allie asked.

"Well," Tropper started, "now that we have information about this vault, that helps tremendously. We could easily help you figure out what you need to in order to get in and out without being noticed or suspected."

"I just feel so guilty," Allie said, looking at her hands on the table, "Tony's been so good to me for so long, and I...I just feel like I'm a traitor."

"You're not a traitor," Siskel said, "hell, the fact that you put your friends freedom ahead of your own proves that. And honestly, it isn't even Tony we really want. It's just that he's the biggest benefactor to the governor, and if anyone's going to get cracks to appear between them and get us access to an arrest, it's him. That's all it comes down to. That isn't to say Tony, and the others, won't face charges, but as with you, he'll likely face lesser charges if he cooperates once involved."

Allie nodded, understanding. She knew this was the way out. She knew that this was the only thing that would work, would be cooperating with these agents. Still...Tony had discovered her. Tony had seen her worth, value and talent. Tony had made her headliner at not one, but two different casinos now. Tony had been more of a parent than her actual parents wound up being, and here she was, about to turn tail and betray him? How could she live with that guilt. It would not only effectively end her career, but her relationship with Tony as well, because he'd know who had turned him in. He'd know it was Allie. Who else could it have been?

Allie sighed and ran her hands down her face.

"...I know this sounds cliche, but it really was sort of an accident," she whispered, "he was going to try and get my partner on what he was selling, and...and having been through that myself, having witnessed firsthand what it does to a person, even in spite of knowing Zoe's deterance to such vices...I don't know, I just...I felt protective. I couldn't let her fall the way I had. I had to do something. I had no way of knowing he was the governors son. We didn't know shit about eachother outside of what we did for work."

"And Claire?" Agent Siskel asked, making Allie shake her head and exhale.

"I don't even know where to start with that," she mumbled, "I guess I came to her for advice, cause...cause she'd gotten away with murder for so long. But the more time I spent around her, the more I became acutely aware of how similar we actually are, and that scared the hell out of me, honestly. She's...terrifying."

"Claire had it arranged so her mortician friend took the body didn't she?" Agent Tropper asked, and Allie nodded; he jotted something down on the legal pad in front of him before picking up his coffee and taking a sip, then adding, "we already pretty much knew, but it's nice to have confirmation."

"I don't think her friend is happy," Allie said, surprising them as she continued, "I think she's scared of her too, but she's so attached that she doesn't know how to walk away. And is that what I am to Zoe? Am I Claire? That's an awful thought. I don't want to control her, I wanted to help her."

Agent Siskel was moved by this surprising display of empathy, and smiled.

"You're not Claire, Allie, trust me," she said, "as someone who's spent an incredibly lengthy amount of time interacting with her, you two are alike, but you're not the same, and similarities don't automatically equal twins. The mere fact that you say you don't want to control Zoe, that alone proves my point. Claire...she doesn't care about who she controls. She doesn't care about what she does, at least not to others. We all serve a means to an end for her. You, Allie, are not Claire, I promise."

Allie nodded, feeling a little better. She wiped her face on her jacket sleeve and exhaled again.

"I just can't believe I let it get this bad," she said quietly, "it was never supposed to get this bad. But at the time Sunny died, I was...I was a joke. I was washed up. Addicted to painkillers, a complete alcoholic. The public...they would've crucified me, drug dealer or not, because my standing with them had already sunken to the all time low. So...it would've been an instant trial by fire. There would've been absolutely no explaining, no rationalizing, they would've been a mob out for blood, and only because the blood was someone they parasocially knew."

Agent Tropper nodded, tapping his pen on the table.

"That's part of the problem of being in the public eye, yeah, you're judged six ways to Sunday, even if you've done nothing, or even if your crimes aren't that terrible," he said, "Allie, help us help you. We can fix this thing together, okay?"

"Fix it together? How? By kidnapping me? By having a woman befriend Molly for weeks, only to steal all her blueprints for the vault? You already have what you want, why do you-"

"You keep...you keep mentioning this, this, uh...act of theft, these blueprints. We haven't recieved any blueprints," Agent Siskel said, "why...why do you keep bringing this up?"

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, as a dawning horror came over Allie.

"You...you guys...doesn't she work for you?" Allie asked, "The girl who stole them?"

Agent Siskel and Agent Tropper exchanged a look and both shook their heads and shrugged.

"...we never hired anyone, no," Agent Siskel said.

"...then who the fuck does she work for?" Allie whispered, terrified.

                                                                           ***

Kristin parked her car in the parking garage and sighed. She picked up the folders from the passenger seat, opened the drivers side door and climbed out of the car. She shut the door, locked it, and started walking across the garage, her flat heels clacking on the cement beneath her as she strolled through the empty abyss of concrete. She knew she was a little early, and that they would be tied up with their current meeting, but they would meet her soon enough. As she passed by another car, she saw a woman standing there in a sweater and jeans, trying to light a cigarette. She tossed her red hair from her face and sighed, exasperated. Kristin stopped and looked at her, smirking.

"You need some help?" Kristin asked, "I always keep a pack of matches on me."

"That would be fantastic, thank you," the woman said as Kristin pulled out the matches, lit one and then lit up the cigarette; the woman took a long drag, then smiled, "thanks Kristin."

Kristin stared at her, her eyes widening, until she felt something sharp in her neck, and she stumbled back, as a hand wrapped around her from behind, covering her mouth to keep her from screaming. Claire continued smoking as Rachel waited for the seditive to take full effect, and once Kristin's body went limp, they laid her on the ground. Claire bent down and picked up the files, shifting through them haphazardly before rolling her eyes. Rachel looked from Kristin up to Claire, and Claire nodded. She bent down, grabbed Kristin's ankles while Rachel took her by the underarms and they carried her to a nearby car.

"Christ," Claire said under her breath, "you want something cleaned up, you have to do it yourself."

                                                                             ***

"You think she works for the governor?" Allie asked, slack jawed, "I...I mean...he would...how would he even..."

"We don't know, but that's the only plausible answer, and if that's the case, and she's already given him those blueprints and he knows about the vault, then we've already failed," Agent Tropper said, scratching the back of his head, looking annoyed.

"Not necessarily," Agent Siskel said, "if we could intercept her somehow before she does, then we might be able to salvage it."

Allie's phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket, looking at the number and not recognizing it. She looked at the agents, who nodded, giving her the allowance to answer, so she did. She raised the phone to her ear and spoke.

"Hello?" she asked, "...Claire?...okay. Okay I'll be there as soon as I can."

Allie hung up, slid the phone back into her coat pocket and looked at the agents.

"I have to go you guys," she said, "...Claire found her. She's got her."

"Allie," Agent Siskel said, "Whatever Claire tries to convince you of, remember what she did, remember who she is. Yes, this woman works for the governor, and yes we can't let him get access to these blueprints, but...just don't let her trick you into becoming like her. We'll give you a ride if she gave you an address."

Allie stood up, and together the three of them headed out of the office and towards the car outside. Allie had no way of knowing it just then, but in just under an hour, she would walked into a building with Claire and Kristin...

...and only two of them would walk out.