I drop my voice to a whisper, anger threaded through with the unintended delay. “What we want, Summer, is to have Clara safe from this sparkling prison. We want to set up our legitimate businesses. We want to become stellar, unimpeachable assholes, and only then will we consider doing anything like what you’re suggesting. What you’re asking for is more than the five of us can give. We don’t even have comms, Summer. It was too big of a risk if one of us got caught. We can’t do more than we already have. Not tonight.”
She stands there, fuming, staring across the crowd without seeing anyone. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so much at once.”
Not my problem. “The danger here is bigger and deadlier than you could imagine. But we’re doing what we can. Even if it feels like too little to you.”
She closes her eyes, and I can almost feel her pain. “I understand. But if she gets caught up in this?”
“After we’re clear, I’ll help you find her. If the pigs fail them.”
She nods, then sweeps away from me into the crowd as a bell rings, calling the guests to dinner.
I check my coat one more time, then stride back across the ballroom, the hallway I’m aiming for hardly visible from where I stand. I’ve got to get in before the ballroom empties.
It’s time for step three.
Chapter 59
Jansen
Swimming back in the dark is probably the least fun I’ve ever had on a job. No heights, no adrenaline, just endless cold and black, the only company the spiraling thoughts in my head.
I should have been the one crawling out of that hole, breaking into the wedding and sneaking through the crowd. Either that or being a distraction as a groomsman. Those were supposed to be my possible parts in the plan, even if Clara made sure we all had some skill with each other’s specialties, just in case.
I’ll never be a hacker or a fighter, but at least I can lie a little better than before we practiced. If only my meds—or my brain—didn’t suddenly make that harder, too. I miss my easy confidence.
It sucks swimming away from the action almost as much as it sucks that every one of the guys might get to see Claratonight except me. I miss her so damn much. Her smile, her laugh, her willingness to go along with whatever sounds cool to me, and that smirk she gets right before she makes me wait to actually do it.
I can wait. I know it. She’s shown me I have a whole lot more patience than I thought I did. And hopefully within the week, the big bad daddy will be out of the picture, locked away where nobody will ever have to deal with him again. But until then, no Clara for me.
When I get back to the first pin on the GPS, the ice has already reformed, but luckily it’s thin enough that I can punch my way free. I have the auger, but I have visions of myself spinning like a cartoon character making a whirlpool trying to use it under water without the anchor. I guess those fighting lessons have one advantage. I don’t have to make a fool of myself in the icy dark of a winter lake where nobody can see me, anyway.
Once I’m out, I stare across the frozen lake to the brightly lit mega-mansion, movement barely visible through the picture windows. A party none of us wanted to attend. But one I’d still rather be at than out here in the cold, alone.
“Love you, beautiful,” I mutter, wishing I could sprint across the ice and into her arms.
When I get in the truck, I crank the radio loud enough to drown out my thoughts as I drive away from everyone I love.
I’m warm and dry by the time I pull onto the rural drive I left early this morning. The woods are just as creepy and abandoned today as they were yesterday, but at least the tracks are easier to follow.
Parking near the pile I made, I keep the engine running as I add the directory pages to the pyre, my fingers and toes thanking me every time I crawl back in to warm them up. But once that’s done, the only thing left is lighting the cotton ropes and waiting to make sure everything gets crispy.
It takes hours, and a little bit of the lighter fluid I brought along just in case, but eventually, the glen is ablaze. The heat of the flames warms the interior of the truck long before I turn the engine back on, and I snap a picture of the towering inferno on a burner we got just for tonight.
The stench of melting plastic permeates the woods, and big black plumes of smoke blanket the sky. I back the truck out of the clearing, watching the smoke in the mirror as I leave, confident after the last few hours that I’m not going to take down the whole woods. Many small towns away, I park at a rundown warehouse near a huge dumpster, a facility that looks like it doesn’t have much in the way of security. My message to Tao includes the location, and I’m glad I won’t have to stick with the truck until the end. Every tie between tonight and us had better vanish without a trace.
In the bag with the lighter fluid, I also stashed rubber gloves and disinfecting wipes, the smell somehow extrastrong in the brittle air. I wipe down the truck from top to bottom, including the bed. Everything I brought with me gets pulled out, including the drysuit and scuba gear, all of it tossed into the mostly empty dumpster along with the dirty wipes and the gloves, my fingers aching from cold by the time I’m done. RJ said that garbage pickup is Monday, so our stuff should vanish long before anybody would think to look for it here.
Triple-checking that I didn’t miss anything, I back away from the truck. I can’t have what happened to Austin happen again, not to any of us. I’m older and wiser; I’ve got to act like it.
Shoving my frozen hands deep into the pockets of my winter coat, I march down the side of the road until I make it to the all-night diner RJ and I picked out for our rendezvous. I order some tea, which the waitress seems confused by, then attach the photo to the message RJ made. One more click, and it’s sent to every number we found in the directory. I wish I could see everybody’s faces when the alert goes through, but I know that’s impossible.
Especially with what RJ’s doing to their cameras tonight.
When I finally call in the fire on the burner, I’ve got a mug of terrible tea and a piece of pecan pie in front of me. I take a bite as RJ pulls up in my sedan, the ancient beast for once looking like it belongs.
This has to have worked out. I don’t think I can survive another round of our plans failing.
Chapter 60
