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  “Let’s get some food and call Mom.”

  “Where?”

  Miranda looked up at the bridge. “I was about to say we should go into the Bellagio to eat, but I’ll bet all those restaurants cost a fortune.”

  “You probably need reservations.”

  Miranda nodded. “We’ll go in after lunch, though … just to look around.”

  “I thought you said forget about it!” Julia said, rolling her eyes.

  Miranda grabbed her hand and pulled her up the street toward the Eiffel Tower replica. “There should be somewhere to eat up here.”

  *

  Once they were seated outside with the Bellagio right across the street, they talked the waiter into letting them order from the kids menu. They shared a cheeseburger and fries, or, as the French menu called it, Cheeseburger and Frites. Miranda picked at her fries and kept staring at the hotel.

  “Forget it already!” Julia said as she took a huge bite of her half of the cheeseburger.

  “I know, I know.” Miranda turned back to her food and tried to enjoy it. She had already called her bank. She’d also called her mother, who was on her way to pick them up. The plan was to stop by the Las Vegas Police Department down the road to report the theft. That left a small chance that the guy might be caught.

  “I feel like such an idiot,” Miranda muttered as she sipped her water. “You know, they always tell you to be careful with your purse, especially when you’re a tourist. I probably shouldn’t have even brought it.”

  Julia sighed. She shoved a fry into her mouth and looked at her phone, typing something before setting it back down with a desperate, sad look on her face. She was probably texting her boyfriend.

  Miranda wadded up the straw wrapper by her plate and threw it at Julia’s forehead. It hit her right between the eyes. “Do you even want to be here on this trip?” she asked.

  Julia threw her a genuine glare and rolled her eyes. “Dad didn’t have to bring all of us. It’s totally your fault we’re all here.”

  “Don’t blame me if you’d rather be home making out with Gavin Hall whenever Mom and Dad aren’t looking. I’ve told you before, Jules. If you’re not careful, you’re going to get yourself in trouble, and I won’t be around to help you.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Miranda huffed and held out a finger. “One: if you go too far, you could end up pregnant. If that happened, I’m not sure Mom would ever get over it.” She held up a second finger. “Two: all any guy wants is one thing. Take a big, fat, wild guess what that is. Once you give it to him and he gets tired of you, he’ll split and leave you with a broken heart, even if you do end up pregnant. All men are the same.”

  “Oh, whatever. Just because you’ve had bad experiences doesn’t mean Gavin will turn out the same.”

  Miranda squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Julia was wrong. Every guy Miranda had ever dated had turned out to be a sex-crazed, self-centered jerk. Luke had left her when she’d refused to go past second base with him. Ryder stuck around for a while, but then she’d found out it was only because he was cheating behind her back with Amber Mitchell. “I had to get some action somewhere!” had been his excuse. Please. She had made out with him constantly. It wasn’t like she was a complete prude. Then there was Christian. She didn’t even want to think about Christian.

  “That’s not how Dad is,” Julia said.

  “Of course not, but he’s … well, Mom was lucky.”

  “Well, maybe I’m lucky too. Gavin is not like the losers you date. You just watch and see.”

  Miranda held her breath as she realized that once she was in college she wouldn’t be able to watch much of anything that went on with Julia. Fifteen was such a tricky age, and she wouldn’t be there to help her sister with any of it. She would hear news about her from their parents, talk to her on the phone or maybe video chat sometimes—if time allowed. That thought made Miranda sad. She had chosen to attend a university clear across the country in North Carolina. Her parents had a decent income, but they probably wouldn’t be up to flying her home all the time. She’d never thought about how much she might miss of her family’s lives. She had been too worried about scholarships and dorm life and class schedules.

  After polishing off her share of the fries, Miranda started on her half of the cheeseburger. She hated eating things together. One thing at a time was the only way to go. Julia, on the other hand, was the opposite. She would shove two fries into her mouth and chew for a minute then take a bite of cheeseburger before she had even swallowed. She wasn’t picky about a lot of things, even her boyfriend, Gavin, who had greasy black hair and big, clownish ears. But he was kind and thoughtful, so maybe since Julia wasn’t so picky about looks, she was more likely to find somebody worth finding. Maybe Miranda had stepped on too many cracks, walked under too many ladders, and shattered too many mirrors. Bad luck seemed to follow her like a plague, especially when it came to men. Or was it because she was too picky? And if so, was that something she should change?

  “Since you’re not going to forget about your purse,” Julia said as she picked up the last of the crumbs from the fries, “what would happen if you called your phone?”

  Miranda froze for a moment. The sweat on her body had long since cooled beneath the shade of the table umbrella. She was almost getting cold now that she had eaten and wasn’t moving. “You think he’d answer?” she asked in a trembling voice.

  The suggestion seemed ridiculous, but at the same time it was intriguing.

  Julia nodded and picked up her phone. “Maybe I’ll call it and see what happens. I can tell you’re going to stay all sulky about this until we do something.”

  Miranda jumped out of her chair and leaned across the table. “Don’t you dare!”

  Julia laughed and held up the phone. “Too late!”

  Taking a deep gulp of air, Miranda snatched the phone from Julia’s hand and pressed it to her ear. It was ringing. Julia had really called, but there was no way the guy would answer …

  “Hello?” His voice sounded deep, but young at the same time.

  Miranda stiffened. Across the table, Julia’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

  “U-um …,” Miranda stuttered, unable to finish her sentence.

  “Is this Miranda?”

  Her heart had already been pounding, but now it was banging so hard in her chest it felt like it was trying to jump up her throat. She should say no, but her curiosity got the best of her. “Yes,” she answered in a raspy voice.

  “Thought so. Is there a reason you’re calling?”

  You stole my purse, asshole!

  But she wasn’t about to say that. “Um …”

  Was that all she could say? Sheesh.

  “I can’t believe you ran after me,” the guy said, confirming he was the purse thief. “Nobody’s ever done that before.”

  Miranda noticed he didn’t exactly have an accent, but he sounded refined somehow, every consonant and vowel carefully placed. Nothing about any of this felt quite right. Was this how criminals acted?

  “Nobody has ever called their own phone, either—at least not before I could strip it and sell it,” he continued before she could say anything. “I’ll give you points for that.”

  Miranda straightened in her chair, anger surging through her body. She felt cold and hot at the same time. With the anger came courage. “What do you mean points? Is this a game to you?”

  “Maybe.”

  Miranda shot a “what the hell?” look at Julia. “Who are you?” she said into the phone.

  “You can call me Ollie.”

  “You’re telling me your name?” she snorted, trying not to laugh.

  “Who said that was my name?”

  “Okay, Ollie, I have some photos at the bottom of the purse you stole right out of my hand, and I want them back. They are important to my family. They’re the only pictures we have of my grandmother. Are you enough of a cold-hearted thief not to return them?”r />
  Julia started laughing as she sipped at her water.

  “I don’t know,” he said in a methodical tone, as if he was searching through the purse at that very moment. “It might be tricky getting something to you.”

  “Just leave them somewhere and tell me the location. You can keep everything else in the purse. I won’t even report you.”

  “That’s quite the deal.”

  “I want the pictures back.”

  She imagined Ollie in his suit and white sneakers with his smooth-as-honey voice sitting somewhere dark and quiet, bent over her purse. She wanted to know more about him. How old was he? Why did he think he had to steal purses? Why was he talking to her?

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he said after a few moments of silence. “If you can find me in the Bellagio—because I know you’re looking at it right now—I’ll give you back something from your purse.”

  She looked around, surprised that he knew where she was. “I just want the pictures,” she said loud enough to make a few people look over at their table. “I don’t care about anything else.”

  “Sure you do. This camera is quite nice. Two hundred dollars in cash is nice too. Don’t you want your driver’s license back? And this phone … it’s worth a little bit. You have good taste in gum, by the way. Wintergreen is my favorite.”

  “You’re chewing my gum?”

  “Sure, why not? This stuff is mine now, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s not!”

  Julia stood up from her chair and pointed toward the café’s main exit through the casino. They had already paid their bill and left a tip, so Miranda stood and followed Julia. Her hands were shaking with anger. Julia gestured for her to cut the call short, but Miranda didn’t want to hang up yet. She was morbidly fascinated by what was happening. And a little frightened. Was this some big trap to lure her to him so he could do something to her? But what could he possibly want with her? It was a random purse snatch, and he hadn’t expected her to call him.

  “According to me,” Ollie answered as she and Julia headed out of the restaurant, “it’s mine … but, like I said, if you can find me I’ll give one item back to you.”

  “Will that be the photos?”

  “It will be what I choose.”

  This guy was on a total power trip. Miranda fought the urge to scream at him and clenched her jaw instead. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll find you.”

  “It’s a big building.”

  She rolled her eyes as they walked back outside and the Bellagio loomed in front of her. “Duh.”

  “Good luck. You have one hour. Oh, and you’d better not have a policeman with you or I’ll never answer this phone again.”

  “One hour? Are you nuts?”

  He hung up, and Miranda pulled the phone away from her ear and stared down it. A lot of words went through her head, but she knew she shouldn’t say any of them in front of Julia.

  “What’s going on?” Julia asked as she took her phone and looked at Miranda. “I didn’t think he’d answer.”

  “I didn’t, either.”

  “What did he say?”

  Miranda straightened her shoulders and tried not to think about how much ground she would have to cover inside that huge hotel and casino. The lobby alone would probably take an hour.

  “He wants to play hide-and-seek,” she answered, and pointed at the Bellagio. “Inside there.”

  *

  “I’m not letting you go in there on your own,” Miranda’s mother said when she heard the whole story. She had just stepped out of a taxi around the corner from Paris Las Vegas. “I don’t understand what he wants.”

  Miranda shrugged and pulled off her sunglasses so she could look at the Bellagio as clearly as possible. It was massive. There was no way she could make it all the way through there in an hour, even with help from her mom and Julia. An idea seized her, and she asked Julia for her phone again.

  “You’re going to drain the battery,” Julia snapped, holding it away. “I still want to talk to Gavin today.”

  “You can talk to him when we get back to our hotel! I just want to send a text.”

  Julia reluctantly handed it over, and Miranda texted her own number.

  Do you have any clues? This is impossible! Why are you even doing this?

  “Well, come on, you guys,” she said after sending the message. “Let’s start looking.”

  “Miranda!” Gabriela grabbed Miranda’s arm and pulled her back. “You aren’t seriously considering giving this man what he wants, are you? He’s a criminal. We need to report him. Let me get another taxi and we can go to the police station.” She looked at her watch. “We can be down there in half an hour, or I can just call them if you want to go straight back to the hotel. I’ll bet they could even try to track him with the GPS in your phone, since he’s communicating with it.” She squinted and shrugged. “Or maybe they don’t do stuff like that for something as small as purse thieves.”

  Miranda looked at the Bellagio then back to her mom. “I want to try to get my purse back,” she answered, her voice almost a whine. “He’s not going to hurt me, Mom. He sounded … I don’t know … like this is some harmless game. He’s young. Maybe he’s just not that smart?”

  Although she didn’t believe that at all.

  “It’s a harmless game to him,” Gabriela sighed as she ran a hand through her frizzy hair. “You can’t even legally enter the casino areas without an adult, honey. I’m not worried about what we’ve lost, I promise.”

  “But the pictures, Mom. I was carrying all of them. There’s nothing left now, and this might be a way to get them back.”

  Gabriela stepped forward and caressed Miranda’s cheek. Her eyes were soft and understanding. “It’s okay. They’re just pictures.”

  Miranda closed her eyes for a moment, fighting all the emotions inside her. Maybe her mom was right. The phone beeped in her hand. Ollie had texted her back.

  Olives.

  That was it? Miranda stared at the word, confused. “What is that supposed to mean?” She showed the text to her mom and sister. “I asked him if he had any clues.”

  “Olives?” Gabriela looked up from the phone, tapping her chin as she stared across the street.

  “Are there olives inside the Bellagio?” Julia asked. “I don’t get it.”

  Miranda bit her bottom lip, deep in thought. This guy was a complete mystery to her, and part of it was exciting.

  “Maybe it’s a play on his name,” Miranda said, unable to come up with anything else. “You know, how he told me his name is Ollie?”

  Julia scrunched her nose. “That’s not a clue.” She grabbed her phone from Miranda and started typing something. “Let’s do a search.”

  “Good idea,” Gabriela answered, and pulled a water bottle out of her purse.

  “Olives is a restaurant!” Julia practically screamed. “That’s where he is!” She giggled and looked at Miranda. “This is kind of fun.”

  “Fun?” Gabriela rolled her eyes. “You girls … Well, come on. Let’s go look for Olives and see if anything happens. As long as we stick together and stay in public, we should be fine.”

  Miranda grinned, surprised at her mom’s sudden willingness. Maybe she wanted those pictures back more than she was admitting.

  *

  They walked over the bridge and through the side entrance into the Bellagio. It felt like a spacious, upscale mall, with luxurious polished floors. Plants and exotic flowers were everywhere.

  “I pulled up a map,” Julia said excitedly, waving her phone. Miranda smiled at how passionate she was about this whole thing—as if they were on some sort of secret spy mission and she was lucky enough to be a part of it. “The restaurant is just inside here,” she said, pointing. “It’ll be on the left, I think.”

  Julia practically burst at the seams when she spotted the sign. Miranda grinned. “You did it, Julia. Thanks!”

  “Well, who knows what happens from here,” t
heir mother sighed.

  They stopped in front of the restaurant. It didn’t look like anybody was inside. The large sliding glass and wrought iron doors were only half open. Two women stood at a counter just outside the restaurant, and one leaned forward.

  “Can I help you?” She looked them all up and down, frowning. How was she going to explain to these women what she needed? She felt completely stupid and inadequate to the task.

  She glanced at her mother, who gave her a look that clearly said, “What do you want me to do?” and shrugged her shoulders. Miranda realized she was only humoring her by coming into the hotel. It was obvious she didn’t think she’d ever see those photos again. It made Miranda think of all the times her mother had humored her because she wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.

  Gathering her courage, Miranda turned and walked to the front counter. Placing her hands on the edge, she leaned forward and tried to make her expression as desperate as possible.

  Before she could open her mouth, the woman who had spoken earlier said, “The dining room isn’t open again until five o’clock. Do you have a reservation?”

  Miranda shook her head. “No, we don’t,” she answered. “I was wondering, though … there’s this guy who was going to leave something for me here, and I don’t know if it was going to be outside the restaurant or inside or what. He was kind of vague.”

  The lady was tall and slender with highlighted blonde hair, dark green eye shadow, and ruby lipstick. Miranda focused on her pretty eyes, hoping beyond hope that this didn’t turn embarrassing.

  “Was his name Ollie?” the woman asked, making Miranda’s mouth fall open as the dark-haired woman next to her reached under the counter and brought out a small white bag. It was made of thick paper with braided handles and had “Prada” embossed on the front.

  “Yes, it was Ollie,” Miranda said, nodding.

  “And you are …?”