The Girl Thief Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  THE GIRL THIEF

  Robert E. Cummings

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Robert E. Cummings

  All rights reserved.

  Join my reader’s group to hear what I’m up to: Reader's Group

  Chapter One

  _____________________________

  New York: Near Future

  Sammy had seen enough to know that sudden changes never ended well. The ring of a spoon bouncing off the downstairs kitchen floor was the opening bell of what was to come. She traipsed along the hallway to Cindy’s room.

  Cindy sat up in bed, brushing her hair. It was a Friday night, and she was at home in bed instead of being out with Stet, or was he last month? She changed boyfriends like bed sheets. Sammy fought an urge to check a window for the coming zombie apocalypse.

  Cindy put the brush on the night table. “Put the little monsters to bed?”

  Sammy hated when Cindy called the twins that but said nothing.

  “Couldn’t get a wink of sleep because of them. Running up and down the hallway.”

  “You’re sick?”

  “I’m dying and where’s Gladys? Out playing bingo.”

  At least that didn’t change.

  “I told the monsters to be quiet, and they laughed.”

  “They’re seven.”

  “Gladys did nothing. She was too busy putting on nail polish.” Cindy flicked her hand out to check her nails.

  “Need anything?”

  “Mark is getting me tea and toast.”

  “Is that why he was up here?”

  “You were too busy reading to your precious twins. Aren’t they old enough to read for themselves?”

  “I don’t like Mark being up here.”

  Cindy let out a long, hacking cough. “Someone has to take care of me.”

  “I’ll go down and get the tea and toast,” Sammy said. “Mark’s probably recuperating from altitude sickness.”

  Cindy waved at the night table. “Water.”

  Sammy dashed to the nightstand and handed her the glass.

  Cindy held the glass in both hands and sipped between labored breaths. “What kind of sickness does he have?”

  “It was a joke, not a good one.” Sammy took the glass back and set it on the table.

  “That’s why I’m in the dumb school.” She pulled up the blanket and lay back. “I get all the dumb boys attracted to these like bees to honey.” She raised her chest to show her ample boobs.

  Sammy looked down. “I got nothing.”

  “They’ll come in.”

  “I blew out the candles for my sixteenth birthday last month, and they still didn’t show up.”

  “So you’ll get a nice gift on your seventeenth.”

  “Yeah, they’ll come in a box.”

  Cindy laughed, triggering a cough. “Nothing wrong with embellishing. Put on a little makeup, get some nice clothes, and you’ll get noticed.”

  Sammy shrugged.

  “Just a little goes a long way. I never see you hang out with anyone from your own school. At least they’re smart.”

  “They’re not that smart.”

  “So they’re not as smart as you. Who is?” Cindy covered her mouth and coughed. “You’re just doing Gladys’s work taking care of the twins. She gets paid for it. You don’t.”

  Sammy looked down, shuffling her feet. “I don’t mind.”

  “They’ll forget all about you in a few years, or maybe worse.”

  “Worse how?”

  “You know how their momma died,” Cindy said, looking as if she’d witnessed the event. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “They’re victims.”

  “We’re all victims. We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.” Cindy leaned forward and coughed. “In less than eight months I’ll be eighteen and won’t even have this place to call home.”

  “When I put together my big heist, we can get our own place and adopt the twins.”

  “Not that adoption thing again.”

  “You’ll be able to adopt them when you’re eighteen.”

  “They won’t let me adopt a puppy dog when I get out of here.”

  “You’ll have money from the heist. That’s all they care about.”

  “They’re going to want to know where I got it from.”

  “A rich uncle who died and left it all to you. Happens all the time.”

  “Doesn’t happen enough,” Cindy said. “I had a career day last week. Did I tell you about it?”

  Sammy shook her head.

  “We were herded in like cattle to the auditorium and branded as useless in all but a few minutes.”

  “Don’t let them tell you what you can be. You’re real good with the makeup. If you want to be a beautician, then you be one.”

  “It’s called artisan beauty sculptor, and it takes forever to train.”

  “So you start out as a beautician and work your way up.”

  Cindy stared. “You’ve never been to a salon?”

  Sammy glanced down at her T-shirt and jeans. “Do I look like I’ve ever been to one?”

  Cindy laughed and went into another coughing fit.

  “It wasn’t that funny.”

  Cindy squeezed Sammy’s hand until she recovered. “You have to come with me when I leave.”

  “I’ll plan a big heist, and we can all be together without Gladys and Mark.”

  “Even if I could adopt them, are you going to take care of them for the next ten years?”

  “I took care of them for the last two, so what’s a few more. They were so cute when they first came here, weren’t they?�
��

  “They get less cute when they get older.”

  “They’ll always be cute to me.”

  “You can always visit, Sam. They’ll be fine here.” Cindy brightened. “You know what we should do? Go to a salon and get a treatment. For a few dollars, the robots will doll us up from head to toe.”

  Begging was the easiest way to get money, but she hadn’t done it in years. Stealing it wasn’t much of an option since nobody carried much cash. “It’d be hard to get.”

  “I’m sure Gladys has a few dollars you can swipe. She owes you at least that much for taking care of the little monsters.”

  “Bet she has a few baby crocodiles in that purse. Probably lose a finger when I open it.”

  Cindy laughed, leaning into another coughing fit.

  “I better leave before I kill you.”

  Cindy reached out. “Stay.”

  Mark shuffled in, holding a tray at arm’s length with a steaming cup and a small plate of toast. His expression turned sour. “Back from stealing?”

  “Been back for over an hour. You would’ve known if you weren’t in the basement polishing the brass.”

  Cindy squashed a laugh.

  He glared at her. “What’d you say?”

  Sammy looked away. “Nothing.”

  He put the tray down over Cindy’s lap. “If you’re not going to eat here, then at least have the courtesy to let my mother know. This isn’t the streets where you can come and go as you please.”

  “Is that what you do on the streets, Mark?”

  “I’ve always lived in a house,” he said as though he was proud of the accomplishment. “Next time call.”

  “If Gladys wants to buy me a phone, I’ll be happy to call.”

  “It’s Mrs. Henderson or Momma Gladys to you, you ungrateful runt. It’s always take, take, take with you.”

  “Gladys’s generosity knows no bounds,” Sammy said.

  Cindy piped a laugh.

  Mark glared at Sammy. “What did you steal tonight? You didn’t eat here, so you must’ve stolen something.”

  “Nothing. I chose to go hungry rather than eat Gladys’s goulash.” She brushed her hand over her jacket pocket, checking on the half sandwich.

  “You’re a liar.”

  “You think I care what you think, Mark? Or is it Mr. Henderson?”

  He huffed, turning his attention to Cindy. His focus was mostly on Cindy’s boobs. Sammy expected the drool to follow. “You like the tea, Cindy?” He had an unnatural cheeriness to his voice.

  “Still a little hot,” Cindy said, taking a nibble from the toast.

  “Want me to get an ice cube?”

  Cindy shook her head.

  “Her face is a little higher up than where you’re looking, Mark.”

  “Don’t you have someplace to rob?”

  Sammy tapped Cindy’s arm. “I’m going to be by Cindy’s side through her hour of need.”

  Cindy smiled, taking another nibble of the toast.

  Mark groaned, shuffling his feet. “I want to talk to Cindy.”

  “Then open your mouth and form words, Mark. Do I have to tell you everything?”

  He glared at Sammy. “You know what I mean. I want to talk to her alone.”

  Cindy swallowed. “About what?”

  “Things, important things.”

  Cindy glanced at Sammy, who rolled her eyes. “Mark, could you get me a napkin? My fingers are greasy from the toast.”

  “Napkin? Yeah, sure.” He plodded out of the room and down the stairs.

  Cindy checked the hallway. “What do you think he wants?”

  “Probably wants you to model his next sex doll.”

  Cindy laughed, ending it with a long hacking cough.

  “I’ll take the tray and tell him you’ll talk to him tomorrow?”

  “What do you think he means by important things?”

  “Who knows with him? I don’t like that he’s up here with Gladys out.”

  “He’s here because I’m sick.”

  “You want to be alone with him?”

  “Stay.”

  “He said alone.”

  “Hide then.”

  “Tell him you’re tired and will talk in the morning when Gladys is here.”

  “Aren’t you dying to know what he wants to talk about?”

  “No.”

  “Can’t you do this one thing for me? If I wasn’t sick, I wouldn’t ask.”

  Footsteps plodded up the stairs.

  “He’s coming,” Cindy said, glancing out the door. “Please.”

  Sammy searched the room. “Where am I going to hide?”

  “Under the bed,” Cindy said, waving her hand below. “Quick.”

  Sammy ducked under the bed, dust floating around like snow. “Do you ever clean under here?”

  Cindy shushed her.

  A pair of sandaled feet in white socks padded toward the bed. Only Mark would wear socks with sandals.

  “I got you two napkins just in case,” Mark said.

  Cindy thanked him and slurped the tea. “Is this one of those mint teas?”

  “I put peppermint schnapps in it. You like it?”

  Cindy placed the cup on the nightstand. “So what did you want to tell me?”

  “I was thinking… Is there enough butter on that toast? I can get you more butter if you want.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “So I was thinking, Cindy, since you’ll have to leave the foster system soon—”

  “I still have a good seven months. Did your mother say anything?”

  “No.” His feet rocked back and forth. “Seven months come real quick.”

  “Don’t I know it.” The bed creaked. “I’ll be tossed out like yesterday’s garbage.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

  “You know something?”

  “You can stay with me.”

  “Stay with you? How?”

  “In the basement.”

  Sammy rolled over on her side and bit her knuckle.

  “The basement?” Cindy asked with a hint of scorn.

  Sammy had visions of Cindy exploring the dark recesses of the basement as if she were knee deep in a marshy swamp. Her knuckle was starting to hurt.

  “I can fix it up any way you like.”

  “Does that include cement walls?”

  Sammy banged against the bed spring, certain she’d draw blood.

  “I can’t do anything major. Mom wouldn’t let me, but she said it was okay.”

  “You asked your mother first?”

  He snickered. “She said it was a mistake.”

  “Why is that?”

  “On account, you’re a little loose.” His voice was giddy.

  “So that’s what she thinks of me?”

  “I don’t care,” he said. “The looser the better.”

  “Take your tray.”

  The tray hit the floor. His feet shifted away as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just want a feel. Mom won’t be back for at least another hour.”

  The bed shifted and creaked. “Get your hands off of me.”

  “I know you want it.”

  “Get off of me,” Cindy said, the word struggling to get out. A hacking cough followed.

  Sammy spun on her butt and swung her feet out, clipping Mark in the backs of his legs. He fell down with a thud.

  Sammy rushed out from under the bed. “Get out, Mark! Get out right now.”

  Mark rolled to his side and stood, looking flushed. “Had all I’m going to take from you.”

  Sammy danced around him, looking for an opening.

  Cindy flicked the tea at Mark. It splashed against the side of his face and arm. “You can take your tea back.”

  Mark shrieked as the tea splashed off his arm. He charged Cindy with his hand raised. “You ungrateful bitch!”

  Sammy pulled the throw rug out from under him, sending him crashing off the side
of the bed.

  Mark scrambled up and grabbed Sammy’s sleeve as she turned to run, swinging her toward the bed. Sammy tripped on the bunched-up rug and careened against the bedpost. The room dimmed, movements blurred. Sammy squinted, trying to get Mark into focus. His hand was raised above her. Sammy leaned back and drove her foot between his legs, doubling him over.

  Sammy scurried to her feet, but Mark tripped her, bouncing her off the door and tumbling into the hallway. She reached for the banister but missed and fell back. Mark stood over her, hand raised. The twins blurred into one, huddled by their bedroom door.

  A loud crash startled her. Shards spilled away from Mark as his arms dropped to his sides. He hung in mid-air as if held up by hooks, but his legs collapsed, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of stones.

  Cindy stood over him, coughing and wheezing.

  Sammy pulled her feet out from under him. One of the twins came running toward her. It was Justin, holding something. What did he have? As he crossed the doorway, the light from the room exposed the glint of metal. It was a pair of scissors. He raised them up to drive them into Mark.

  Sammy’s hand shotup. “No, Justin!”

  Justin held the scissors over his head, focusing solely on Mark. “He’s bad.”

  Sammy leaned over Mark, hoping Justin wouldn’t risk stabbing her. “Yeah, sweetie, Mark did a bad thing, but don’t do a worse thing.” She held out her hand for the scissors. “Please.”

  Justin let his arms fall to his sides.

  Sammy snatched the scissors and pulled him to her. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”

  “I don’t want nothing to happen to you,” Justin said with a sniffle.

  Jenna ran up to her with cheeks stained with tears. “Are you hurt, Sammy?”

  Sammy pulled her close. “I’m okay, sweetie. Just a little bump on the head.”

  Cindy leaned back against the doorjamb, gaze shifting from the scissors to the twins. “An apple just fell.”

  Chapter Two

  _____________________________

  Sammy stepped over Mark, still lying among the broken vase as Cindy stood by her dresser, stuffing clothes into a black garbage bag.

  Was she throwing them out? “Get in bed. I’ll clean this up.”

  Cindy turned to her, looking ghostly. “Where were you?”

  “I put the twins to bed. They were upset.”