“Hey, Charlie-man. Highway’s been cleared of law enforcement. Feel free to book it.”
“Thanks, Anders. How’re things going with you guys?”
The sound of gunfire fills the cab, and Levy and I exchange a look.
What the fuck?
“Oh, you know”—rat-tat-tat-tat—“the usz. Uh…hold up just a sec.”
It sounds like he’s sliding his palm over the phone as he yells off in the distance. “Omar, baby, don’t get shot anywhere important—I’ve got plans for you tonight.”
Erik lowers his chin, his shoulders shaking. Charlie rolls his eyes. “Erik, how the hell are you thenormalone?”
He shrugs, still laughing. “Parental rejection, dude. Meanwhile, Anders and Odd’s parents took a page out of the Dexter playbook and fucking encouraged that lunacy.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, wondering if Levy and I should’ve asked more questions.
Erik looks back like maybe he forgot we were back here and rubs his jaw. “Sorry, you weren’t meant to hear that. Let’s just say I’m pretty sure my cousin, and probably his twin, were always going to be some level of violently unright in the head. My aunt and uncle decided to redirect it so that if the twins were going to kill people, they would do it for the common good.”
“Kill for the common good,” Levy repeats, raising his brows.
“There’s two of them?” I ask.
“Now, cousin,” Anders’ voice rumbles through the line. “Careful with the unright in the head business. Remember, those tests were never conclusive. Bram and Levy—one of the things you’ll learn—or maybe you already know—is that some people just need killin’ and, well, we’re the killin’ crew. With your clinical and personal backgrounds, you’re perfect for the savin’ crew. See? It all works out.”
“What happens when you need both?” I ask.
Charlie looks at me in the rearview, making a slashing gesture at his throat.
“Ooph,” Anders responds, sounding like a murderous Matthew McConaughey. “Then you’re fucked.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Charlie says. “Thanks for clearing the road, Anders. We’ll let you know how it goes.”
“You got it, buddy.”
“Do I want to know how Howdy Fucking Manson knows our clinicalandpersonal history?” Levy growls.
Erik snorts. “Hey, you got his middle name on the first try.”
Charlie lets out a tired breath and merges on to 281. “You’ve heard us talk about our friends in Wimberley, yes? Anders, his husband Omar, etcetera.”
Levy and I nod. Ant’s also mentioned them a time or two, but we don’t say that.
“To answer your question, when you approached us to go on missions, we reached out to our friends in Wimberley to run background checks on you.”
“You already ran a background check on us when we were hired,” I say with an edge to my voice.
“Yes, a standard employment and criminal history check, the same one that all the employees and volunteers at Wild Heart get. Wimberley’s background check is a bit more…extensive,” Charlie says finally.
“More extensive in what way?” Levy asks, looking stressed.
Charlie’s jaw shifts to the side. “In addition to employment, credit, and criminal records, they can search your entire family history, including the accident that killed your parents. Beyond that, every financial statement, every job review, every patient, every dojo, gym, and subscription. You name it, they can find it. Even secret social media accounts.”
When I glance at the rearview mirror, Charlie’s eyes are waiting for me, and his pointed look tells me everything I need to know. I follow only one person with my anonymous social media account, and connecting the dots wouldn’t take much time at all.
“On top of that, one of Anders’ colleagues is a profiler,” Erik says matter-of-factly.
Charlie dips his chin. “Once we got back her report on you, we knew you’d be a good fit.”
