Buck standing next to John Black.
Next up was Abraham. And while I was curious about what parts of his past would be put on display, I knew this was my chance to duck out.
The lights filtered to smoky gray and Abraham strode out onto the stage.
That was my cue. No one was paying attention to me. I snuck out the door we’d come in and followed the hallways until I was back at the waiting room. I slipped out that door and into the main lobby of the building.
The crowds had thinned, but there were still plenty of people gathered here, watching the big event on screens placed throughout the space.
I scanned the crowd, looking for a likely House Brown person willing to sneak the message out on the low.
Usually House Brown stayed out of cities and out of sight. But the chance to see the galvanized who had become an icon of House Brown heroism would draw in even the most city-shy person. I was counting on a higher-than-expected number of House Brown people to be among the crowds, especially if any of them were working unsanctioned temporary jobs for local businesses.
A man lounging by the outer door caught my gaze. I tapped two fingers on my thigh, and he nodded.
I walked over to him. “I need a favor,” I said.
“All right,” he drawled in a slow accent that made me smile. He was probably twenty years my senior, his hair combed back and short, his long face tanned and wrinkled. “What can I do for you, miss?”
“Do you live in city?”
“I spot job. Get home to the wife every three months or so.”
“Can you get a message to someone for me? A friend? His name is Neds Harris. Works the Case property. Have you heard of him?”
“Can’t say that I have. You know where about Mr. Harris might be?”
“This morning he was in Chicago, Gray Towers. Do you have a way to reach that far?”
“Isn’t anywhere on earth House Brown can’t reach,” he said with a soft chuckle.
“Thank you. Um, I don’t have much,” I unzipped my duffel, digging through the things I’d stashed there. I pulled out two packets of seeds. “Tomatoes for you. Gladiolas for your wife.”
He regarded the seeds like they were made of gold.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.” I handed him the seeds with the note tucked between them, and they disappeared into his pocket.
He, rightly, offered me a trinket in exchange. Every inch of the city was wired with cameras and other recording devices. What they would see was me paying him for a thing, not for running a message.
Out of his other pocket he drew a small cloth. He unfolded it and plucked out a tiny doll. It was made of twine, carefully wound and tied into the shape of a little girl.
“She’s good luck,” he said.
“Thank you. I think I need her.”
“Earth to you,” he said.
“And the wind,” I replied.
He went back to watching the screens, and I walked away, tucking the little doll in my pocket.
I glanced up at the screen. All the galvanized were on stage, taking questions from the audience. Good. While they were busy, I could do a little more footwork.
If anyone asked, I was just looking around. Enjoying the wonder of it all.
It took me a few minutes, but I finally found the data room on the third floor. I sat in the corner of the room nearest the door so I could dash out if I needed to, and tapped into the screen.
Just because I’d been raised in the sticks didn’t mean I was a slouch with modern technology. Far from it, actually. I’d been data smuggling for most my life.
