“Get in the truck. We’re going back to town.”
I mutter under my breath, but do as I’m told. I can kill a man from two hundred yards, rebuild an engine blindfolded, and take a punch that would kill most people — and yet here I am…
Errand boy.
Perfect.
The ride back to town passes in silence. And my bike ride to Ironwood Falls PD does as well. Officer Maya Alvarado meets me at the front desk as if she’s been expecting me all week.
“Breaker, right?” She looks me over, lips twitching. “So you’re the prospect. You look different from your file photo. I’ll have to update that.”
“Don’t,” I growl, because I have a bad feeling about where this is going.
She just smiles. I’d be tempted to consider it a smirk, except she doesn’t seem the type to do that. “Rabid said you’re here to help.”
I cross my arms, still not sure if this is a setup or a test, or both. “Yep.”
“Good.” She claps her hands together. “Because I’ve got an urgent job that needs doing, and I’m short-staffed. Parade coming up means too many drunk morons with festival money and zero self-control.”
I know the type. Hell, I was the type, once. I narrow my eyes. “What kind of urgent job?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she grabs a ring of keys off the desk, tosses them in the air, and catches them without looking. “We’re late. Come on.”
I plant my feet. “Alvarado, what job?”
She stops. Turns. Gives me a hard stare. “There is no backing out. Don’t make me cuff you. Or worse, call your prez and tell him you were uncooperative.”
I mutter something foul under my breath — something involving Rabid and his lack of warning — but I follow her, anyway. She yanks open the passenger door of her squad car and pushes me inside like I’m under arrest.
“What the hell—?”
“Seatbelt,” she says, sliding into the driver’s seat. “This is serious business. And when you are riding with an officer of the law, you will obey the law.”
Before I can respond, she turns the ignition, and we’re on the road in seconds, the engine gunning like she’s late for a chase. I’m slammed back against the seat as she peels out of the parking lot, blue-and-white lights flashing.
We take a hard left onto Main and I brace my elbow against the window. “You wanna tell me what this is about?”
She doesn’t look at me, just guns it through a yellow light. “Nope.”
I can see the reflection of her eyes in the rearview mirror, sharp and unblinking. For a second, I wonder if this is a trap. But we keep heading into town, toward the shops and the strip malland that one shitty frozen yogurt place that never has more than two flavors in stock.
We slow at the edge of a parking lot, and I realize with horror where we are.
A craft store. Super-sized. The kind with a pastel sign and windows plastered with decals of happy kids and papier mâché animals and construction paper banners fluttering in the breeze. The parking lot is crawling with minivans, SUVs, and parents in various states of existential defeat. Out in front of the store there is a cluster of Girl Scouts orbiting a woman in a green vest like she’s the sun and they’re the planets.
My stomach drops. “You’re kidding.”
She throws the car into park, turns to me, and grins wide enough to show teeth. “We’re here.”
“We’re where?”
“Do I need to spell it out for you? This is where you’re working, prospect. The Ironwood Falls Anniversary Parade is tomorrow, and there’s no time for you to screw around.”
The second we exit, the entire swarm of Girl Scouts erupts at the sight. Shrieking in joy, they run towards us.
I stare at Officer Alvarado. “There has to be something else I can do, right?”
She arches an eyebrow, leans in, and makes her voice a low, even threat. “Get to work, or else you’ll find out what happens when I get upset.”
