Tokyo Heist by Diana Renn Page A

with.”
    “How? Just knock on some office doors and ask for them? ‘Excuse me, did a woman with a cormorant tattoo give you anything to sell anything on the black market recently?’”
    “You’re right. That’s ridiculous.” Edge sighs. “Museums have good security. It’d be much harder for those guys to break into SAM and steal the drawings from there. Besides, if Skye took the drawings to a museum, and everyone in the city knows about this art theft, she probably wanted the art to get returned.”
    I sit up straighter. “Yeah, maybe her ‘cash windfall’ had something to do with getting that reward money! Maybe she pulled off this whole stunt as a scam, and she’s having someone else return the drawings for her. Maybe they’ll split the reward.”
    Edge snaps his fingers. “An inside job. With someone working at SAM.”
    I think for a moment. “But why are we assuming Skye’s going to turn in the art? What if her connection at the museum is really someone who will sell it to the black market and split the money with her?”
    “That’s a great theory, Violet. You know what? I think you’re a natural sleuth.”
    “Really?” Am I imagining it, or is he now leaning a millimeter closer to me?
    My heart is beating so fast, I’m sure he can hear it. He has a funny, soft look on his face, like he might be about to zoom in. To me. His lips part. His breath feels warm.
    I lean closer to Edge. The case of the missing art fades away. For a moment, there is only Edge’s face, tilting toward mine, and the cool green of his eyes.
    Taps at the door. We jerk away from each other.
    “Edge? I need a word with you.”
    Chikuso! When did Mrs. Downey get home from work?
    “Okay, Mom. Just a sec.”
    “Now. It’s important.”
    Edge sighs and pushes his chair back. “Fine.”
    I pop the DVD Edge burned for me into a jewel case while he and his mom talk in the hall.
    “Edge, I don’t want you two in there with the door closed. It’s inappropriate.”
    “But Mom—”
    “And frankly, I don’t feel comfortable with you entertaining her here when nobody’s home. You and Mardi have been spending lots of time in there these past few days.”
    “ Mom . Give it a rest, okay? Mardi’s not here. It’s Violet.”
    “Oh!” Mrs. Downey’s tone completely changes. I mean, completely. You’d think the sun had just burst through the clouds and unicorns were dancing over rainbows. “Hello, Violet!”
    “Hi.” I can barely manage to croak that one word. Edge’s tone of voice said it all. I’m not the kind of girl his mom has to worry about. I’m not a temptation. I’m safe.
    Worse, yesterday evening’s little tutorial session with Mardi was not the first. She and Edge have hung out before. At his house. In his room.
    When Edge comes back in, I’m standing up, slinging my backpack over one shoulder.
    “Whoa. Rewind. I missed something.”
    The words fly out. “How long have you been hanging out with Mardi? It wasn’t just last night. Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “See, you are mad. I knew it. Why did you tell me you were fine with it, if you’re not?”
    “I didn’t think you guys would actually be friends.”
    “She’s not that bad, Violet. You two just had some misunderstanding. You should talk.”
    “ You’re the one with the misunderstanding. She’s getting you to do all this stuff for her to make her look good at film camp. She’s using you. And then she’s going to ditch you.” I hear my next words as if I’m floating up by the ceiling, but I can’t stop myself. “Her friends think it’s this big joke, that she’s hanging with Spielberg. They’re all cracking up over it.”
    Edge steps back as if I’ve slapped him. His face flushes.
    This is the worst thing I’ve ever said to him. To anyone. But now my nasty, hideous words sit there between us, like an ugly rock hurled through a window.
    He gives me a long look. “I get it. You just don’t want me to make new