His laptop is on the floor, and I crack it open, then phone through to his cell. “Yup,” he answers too quickly for him to be in class.
“What’s your password?”
“Get fucked. Spelled with a capital F.”
“I need to ID a student using only their first name.”
“Which is?”
“Steven.”
He bursts out laughing. “Yeah. Good luck with that. If it’d been something like Alphonso, I could help.”
“I know his school.”
“Good on you.”
“And his teacher.”
Caylon ticks his tongue against his teeth. “Which school?”
I read off the name on the sign.
“And do I want to know why you need to identify a primary school student?”
“No, you don’t.”
He makes an elongated M sound that gives me hope. “You won’t need the laptop. Give me a few minutes.”
“Good boy.”
“Talk to me like I’m a dog again and this is the last time I’ll ever help you.”
“Unless Stefan orders you.”
“Or until we find out which one of us is more helpful to his business operations and who is just a glorified thug?”
I can’t help but smile. If it weren’t for my father’s contacts, I’d be practically useless. Trent can wield a fist or a bat far better than me and Caylon is… well. The closest thing to a genius I’ve ever met.
An evil genius at that.
In the end, it takes closer to half an hour, and I head back to school to join my next subject, knowing that even if he comes up with a name, I can’t do anything before the end of class.
My phone vibrates with a text as I turn into the carpark, and I pull back into his spot before looking.
Steven Lambertson. Caylon has provided his date of birth and address. There’s even a school picture from the current year.
And a mobile number.
Perfect.
I won’t even need to borrow Caylon’s car again.
* * *
Late that afternoon,I lean against the wall of a chippie, waiting for my prey to arrive in the park opposite. My text message, disguised under Sierra’s number, was a simple place and time request, which Steven immediately accepted with a thumbs-up.
I’d feel sorry for the boy whose toxic masculinity is a mirror image for my own at his age, but his lack of suspicion marks him as a sap. Even I wasn’t that stupid as a kid. Of course, having a junkie for a mother probably helped with that.
