You’re crazy, girl.
Want your update, or are you going to keep insulting me?
Hit me.
With pleasure. Only you’re not here, so I guess I’ll have to appease my violent tendencies with a saber and give you information instead.
…I’m waiting
Clara and my dad keep having closed-door meetings. Trips gets let out more often than before, so he must have paid whatever price Father decided he owed. Wedding planning sounds boring as all hell—Father has already insinuated that he has some men he wants me to meet at the event. Which, yuck. Oh, and we’re going back to the orchestra tonight. Yay.
What would it be like to be a normal teenager?
It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Trust me.
I’d rather find out for myself.
Signing out. Boyfriend’s here. I won’t be back until after Thanksgiving.
Got it. Stay safe.
Ditto.
I can’t help but smile as I click out of the conversation, Trips’ little sister making me chuckle in a way her brother never could. I’m pulling up the tracking data on Bryce when there’s a knock on my door.
Walker marches in, a thick packet of paper in his gloved hands. “I’m done. The last few are a little rushed, but I figure that sells it. Either way, I’m free to help you with internet stalking or to get better at safecracking, whatever we need.”
The rush of words isn’t like him, so I spin in my chair, looking him over.
There are streaks of gray paint down his arms, a splash of crimson by his temple, and a seriousness about him I’m not used to seeing. “Are you okay?”
“I’m ready to get this done. I’m sick of waiting, and I sure as shit don’t want to go home in a few days for Thanksgiving, even though I know I’m going to go no matter what. Also, I’m tracking down another OB willing to sell a shot for the right amount. That’s a ticking clock we don’t need, and with Trips trusting his guard, I feel pretty good about getting it to her. A good contingency we can use for once.”
“Do you want another project?”
“That’s why I knocked.”
This curt, work-focused Walker is uncomfortable, but as it’s what we need, I guess I can’t judge. “We have a chance to meet with them tonight. But we need a way for them to sneak your work into the house. It’ll be a lot easier for them to bring sheaves of paper into that place than for one of us to do it during the wedding. Thoughts?”
His face screws up. “I have some, but I think we should go to Black and get Jansen in on this. It’s more his skill set than ours.”
It’s not what I want to do—the need to tie up loose ends with Trips’ brother and Bryce screams at me louder every day, but Walker’s right. The best problem solver on the team is halfway across the city, so the three of us are going to have to figure this out ourselves.
When we head out, the clouds are dark enough that it’s almost night; the wind cuts between the houses like it’s seeking someone’s death. Our tail has gotten lazier the longer he’sbeen around, and after a quick conversation with Walker, I dash back to the house and up to Trips’ safe.
There’s hardly any cash in there, but a diamond engagement ring worth more than many mortgages is just as useful. We don’t want the heat from pawning it. But putting that heat on someone else could be to our benefit.
I rush back down the stairs, tapping on the window of the car that’s been dogging us for a month. The guy seems annoyed as he rolls the window down, Walker stepping up to take the lead, his smile so sharp it could cut.
“Hi there. Have you found anything interesting about us yet?”
The guy smiles back. “Sorry, man, but I’m on retainer. And the guy’s paying good money.”
“He wants us to lead you to a guy with long blond hair, right?”
The PI nods. “Yup. So far, you’ve disappeared on me often enough that I know you’re probably visiting the guy, but you’re both surprisingly slippery. Where’d you learn that?”
“The blond guy. So, how much are you getting paid for this gig?”
