The Girl in the Clockwork Collar (Steampunk Chronicles #2)(60)

Unfortunately, this smattering of people would make their job more difficult than if the space was packed. A large crowd would do much to conceal them, but as it was, there would only be more witnesses to their actions.

“The far corner.” Jasper gestured with his chin. Finley followed his gaze. “There’s a loose panel in the wall. Or at least, I’d loosened it at the time. I’m hoping no one noticed and fixed it.”

Finley’s lips twisted sardonically. “It would be just our luck if they had.”

Fortunately, luck had seen fit to smile on them just a little. Someone had placed a large potted plant in that very location. It would provide a little cover—not much, but a little.

When they reached the spot, Finley gestured for him to step behind the plant. She withdrew a fan from the bag she had brought along and began to leisurely waft it. “You remove the panel,” she instructed. “I’ll keep watch.”

Jasper smiled as she positioned herself near the plant. Her body provided extra cover. She kept her gaze raised to where his face would be if he stood, so if anyone were to glance over, they’d think she was just an overheated girl talking to her escort, who was behind the plant. The fan also worked to partially obscure her features, making it harder to identify her.

No wonder Griffin fancied her so much—she truly was a remarkably useful girl. Perhaps this wouldn’t prove such an impossible task after all.

Jasper crouched in the corner and began pressing his fingers to the panel in the wall before him. It didn’t budge.

“What’s the problem?” Finley inquired, still fanning.

“It won’t open,” he replied.

“Are you certain this is the right spot?”

He shot her a wry glance, but she didn’t see it. “Yes, I’m sure. I put it here.”

“Quite a while ago.”

“It’s here,” he said firmly. “I just need to work at it. The paint’s acted as a glue of sorts.”

“Well, get to it.” She glanced over the top of her fan. “If we stay here too long we will attract attention.”

Jasper clenched his jaw. “I know. Now would you kindly stop talking like you’re my ma and keep watch?”

She didn’t respond, so he took that as a yes and went back to work. He needed to exert force on the panel to break the seal, but if he exerted too much, the sound would attract unwanted interest.

Finally he felt the wood begin to give. A corner loosened, and he pushed on either side, slowly widening the opening until he could slip his fingers inside. Using his forearm for leverage, he gradually pushed the panel aside, enough to ease his hand into the darkness beyond. Now all he had to do was pray a rat hadn’t carried the part off or—worse—that a rat wouldn’t be waiting to take a nibble on his fingers. He shuddered at the thought.

Slowly, he felt around for the pouch he’d wrapped the piece in. The panel dug into his wrist as he searched, and he reached deeper, gritting his teeth as the wood bit into his skin. Then his fingers touched dusty cloth, and he smiled. He strained his arm, now ignoring the pain, as he managed to grab hold of the pouch and tug it toward the opening. “I think I have it,” he told Finley.

“Good,” she replied. “There’s a man walking this way who seems a little too nosy for my liking.”

Jasper pulled his arm and his bounty from the wall. The panel fell back into place, leaving only the slightest gap. No one would even notice it unless they were as near the floor as he was. He shook the dust from the pouch and rose to his feet.

“Here,” he said, holding a piece of dusty paper out to her. “Put it in your bag, quick.” He didn’t have to say it twice as Finley snatched the paper and shoved it through the drawstring opening of her bag.

Jasper stuffed the piece of the device into his inside jacket pocket. Then stepped out from the corner just as the man he assumed Finley had spotted approached them. Jasper took one look at the fella and wasn’t certain if he should shout for joy or curse.

“Remember when we talked about which one of us should run if there was trouble?” he murmured.

She gave him a slightly panicked look. “Yes.”

“The fella coming toward us is Whip Kirby.”

Finley’s eyes widened, and she gave him a shove. “Run.”

Jasper did.

The rugged lawman tried to brush past Finley to go after Jasper, but she stopped him by grabbing his arm. He looked at her hand, then her face in surprise. Obviously he wasn’t accustomed to being detained by a girl.

He glared at her and tried to pull his arm free of her grip. He failed.

“Damn it, girl,” he snarled at her. “I’m trying to help him.”

“So I hear,” she replied, stepping closer so as not to call attention to them. When she’d sent him the name of the theater, Griffin had mentioned that he thought Whip Kirby might be more of a friend to Jasper than an enemy. It appeared as though the lawman was more interested in arresting Dalton. “But I don’t know you, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t just let you have him.”

Kirby shot her a frustrated look. “Saucy little thing, aren’t you?”

“A ‘saucy little thing’ that can break your arm like it was a peppermint stick, Mr. Kirby. So would you mind listening for a moment so I don’t have to resort to violence? I’ve been told I’m very good at it.”