She turned, her back to Sandra, and bent down to tie her shoe. In that three-second window, her hand dipped into her oversized tote bag. She palmed a small, powerful magnet. With a sleight-of-hand worthy of a stage magician, she reached behind a display of leather gloves and detached a single, deactivated security tag from a hidden pocket sewn into her bag’s lining.
“Sandra,” Morgan said, his voice suddenly formal. “Wait outside.” Shoplyfter - Aubree Ice
Aubree didn’t steal the scarf. She was smarter than that. She turned, her back to Sandra, and bent
She turned. He began a standard pat-down—shoulders, ribs, waistband. When his hands reached the small of her back, she let out a soft gasp. her back to Sandra