Lacey sunk deep into her window seat as her plane approached Curtiss-Steinberg airport in the heart of a bustling St. Louis. The sun was heading downward and cast a menacing shadow of the newly installed arch. She hadn't been here since it was installed. It was an intimidating site, but nothing compared to the high-rises that Chicago had to offer.

"I can't wait for this to be over. I should never have agreed to this." 

She muttered to herself as the wheels of the plane screeched and touched tarmac.

She had been here before, and this wasn't her first brush with illegal activities, but something didn't seem quite right. A woman's intuition is usually spot on, and that is precisely what worried her. She grabbed her carry-on and exited the plane.

"Lacey Meneaux! I haven't s- s- ssseen that face in years. You haven't ch-changed a bit. 'Cept for those wrinkles, that is." 

A voice in the distance echoed towards the plane as she came within earshot of a small crowd waiting to greet the arrivals.

Lacey didn't even have to glance up, the voice attached to the mouth attached to the person at the end of those words was Sam Cassels. Sam was an associate of Lacey's late father. He was an up-and-comer enforcer for the Scaglietti crime family in the 20's but an "undisclosed incident" caused him to speak with a stutter, giving him the unfortunate nick-name of Sam "Cuh" Cassels.

"Sam!" 

Lacey feigned excitement and kissed Sam on the cheek. 

"It's so good to see you, despite your wrinkle comment."

As you could imagine, an enforcer with a stutter had a pretty hard time being taken seriously. Sam overcompensated for that with force. Force turned into bloodshed and Sam was put on what her father called "Desk duty", which she assumed was a kind way of saying "Thanks for your service but you're causing too much trouble."

Lacey snaps out of it and looks back toward Sam as he begins to speak again.

"You all ready to go? Need help with your stuff? How's the family? You eating like you should be? God damn, you're skin and bones."

Sam paused.

"You got that thing I sent ya right? The prints?"

Sam was referring to the blueprints of the St. Louis Art Museum. Lacey knew them backwards and forwards. Sam knew that.

They begin to walk towards the car double parked in front of the airport. Black, low to the ground, and flashy. Sam could afford it though. These types of jobs were his specialty and setting them up for people like Lacey paid and paid well. The door closes behind Lacey and Sam cast a shadow as he walked around the back of the car and into the driver's seat.

"I think I may have found a buyer for the piece already. He's a union boss on the South East side. You wanna take a ride with me or head back with the others to the hotel?" 

Lacey paused, recalling her uneasiness. She figured she'd rather be around for the discussion surrounding the deal.

"I'll come along for the ride. I haven't seen the city in a few years."

"You act like this is your f-first time stealing some shit, la-lady. Ease up." Sam laughed and pulled the car onto Broadway.

(Continued in Part II. - Accompany)