Her brother smirked. “Spoken by the tuba player of the Wilmington Wowzabelles?”

“Wasn’t I right? Didn’t the tuba totally draw them in?” She slid inside the car and had barely closed the door before Casper gunned the motor and took off. “Your timing couldn’t be worse. I lost the Cahills. The GPS is all wonky. Satellite problems – it keeps going in and out.”

Savagely, Cheyenne ripped off her dark wig and took the pins out of her long blond hair. She shook it and it cascaded down past her shoulders. Then she tossed her glasses out the window and popped out the dark lenses. She tilted the mirror and drank in the sight of her own baby blue eyes. She was herself again. Immediately, she felt calmer.

“I’m getting kind of sick of dancing to V-One’s tune,” she brooded. “And having V-Two breathing down our necks all the time, waiting for us to make a mistake.”

“Word. And now you’ve played right into it. We might get dropped from the Council of Six.”

Who’s we, bro? Cheyenne wanted to say. I’m the one in the Council. You don’t even have a number anymore.

But she couldn’t say it. She still needed her brother.

“Now it’s going to take us even more time to climb up the ladder,” Casper continued.

She looked out the window as the picturesque streets of Lucerne slipped by. Streets with fancy stores with things in them that cost a lot. Things she wanted and deserved.

A plan was forming in her mind. “It doesn’t have to take more time,” she said. “Not if we’re proactive.”

A small smile began on Casper’s lips. “Oh, sister-friend. I know that tone. What are you thinking?”

“If you want something, you take it,” Cheyenne said, repeating what the two siblings had told each other from the beginning of their lives in crime. Back when their parents robbed banks, pulled scams, dragged them all over the country. Cheyenne and Casper had added Internet scams to the family’s crimes, and they’d pulled in more than they’d ever dreamed.