Chapter 9
Charlie stood behind her as she deftly slid the deadbolt of the mortise lock back into its housing. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she sat back and reached for the glass of water that sat on the tray on the small wooden table. Today was hotter and more humid than any of the other days. Even sitting here on the covered porch of one of the small bungalows, there was no breeze to relieve the heat.
“Very good. You pick locks well.”
Cam looked back at him. It was the first time Charlie had complimented her for anything since they’d gotten here.
“You seem surprised,” he said looking down at her.
She turned her head away from him. “You just never…” she started.
“Praised you?” he asked sharply.
“Well, not exactly praise, but usually you just tell me if it was right or wrong, not
