“They wanted some daylight to search the house before the show started. Jake watched them enter, man after man, carrying briefcases loaded with special equipment. “Christ,” he muttered to Roy, the group leader, shaking his head. “You have more shit than those Ocean's Thirteen guys.” “Of course, we do.” Roy grinned, teeth pearly gleamed white against his dark skin. He opened his briefcase, lined with techno-gadgets. “We're the good guys. We've got digital recorders, heat sensors, infrared lights,... sound receivers…you name it. The only thing they got going for them is Julia Roberts.” “And George Clooney,” one of Roy's team commented, stopping to give an exaggerated shake of his hips before moving on. “Depends which way your door swings, I guess,” Roy replied, winking at Jake. “Hey, I like George Clooney,” Jake joked. Shaking his head, Roy shoved a box into Jake's hands. “Take this to Timmy upstairs.” “Which one is Timmy?” “Walk up the stairs and say, 'Timmy?' He'll let you know.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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