I’m trying to figure out what to do about it when the doorbell rings. Walker thumps past my room, and I decide to follow, hoping distraction will let my brain settle on a plan of action.
I make it downstairs as he opens the door, cold air swirling around my feet as the guy who’s been our gopher waits on the porch, the hood of his jacket pulled up like he’s hiding. Walker waves off our friendly PI, then turns to the guy.
“I’ve got a message,” the guy says, looking around like somebody is watching.
“Then hand it over,” Walker says, rolling his eyes, no shits left to give.
The guy does, then hovers on the porch, the cold air sweeping in the longer we keep the door open. “Should I wait for a reply?” he asks as Walker stares at the code.
I force my voice to work, not liking this guy standing there looking suspicious. “No.”
He jumps, like he’s been so busy looking for trouble outside he missed me standing on the bottom step inside.
“Shit, you guys are like ninjas,” he whispers to himself as he turns around, half running down the steps as Walker shoves the door shut behind him.
A soft rustle behind me has me spinning, hands at the ready, catching sight of a flurry of black launching itself over the railing and into the hallway between Walker and me. I rush to take down the threat, but then the intruder speaks.
“A message from our girl?”
Halting my sprint with a hand on the wall and a slight shove of the intruder, I suddenly understand the ninja comment from our delivery man. “Damn it, Jansen. I almost took you out,” I half-yell.
Walker jerks up from the note, blinking in surprise at the thief looking over his shoulder.
“What the fuck? Where’d you come from?”
Jansen plucks the note from Walker’s hands, ignoring both of us. “I broke in through the attic window. I had to see if I still could do this stuff. So, what’s this say?”
“Jay,” I say, not really knowing where I’m going with my reprimand.
Another ring of the bell and I shove our thief into the living room before Walker opens the door again.
The same dude is standing there, looking a little sheepish. “I was going home, but then this other guy ran up, dropped this, and then ran off. I thought I should let you know it’s here.” Ripping the gold envelope from his hand as Walker curtly thanks the guy, we shut the door in his face.
Jansen comes back, his expression thoughtful, the note still in his hand. “She’s asking you not to add Bryce to the list. What list?”
“The list of liver donors,” Walker answers, yanking back the note and handing the card to me. I don’t want it any more than he does, but I open it anyway.
Inside is a wedding card. For a moment, before I open it, I have a stupid hope that it’s exactly what it appears to be, but I get a photo of all of us crowded together at Orchestra Hall instead. Clara and Jansen share a kiss while Walker reaches forward, obviously getting ready to pull her to him, Trips and I watching with similar hopeful faces.
He used a gold Sharpie to match the card. “Forsaking all others? Not for this whore. What would Father say?”
Jansen reads over my shoulder this time. “Why is father capitalized?”
“Why is he still taunting her?” Walker groans. “She was gone for almost a year. She’s been here but inaccessible for months. And the only time we’re all together, he’s there and takes a picture? It doesn’t make sense.”
I shake my head. “I’ve been watching his phone. This photo wasn’t there. And this was weeks ago, not recent.”
“What about his second phone?” Jansen asks, pulling the photo from my grip and running a finger along the edge of Clara’s outline.
My stomach drops. “I haven’t had time to check that one.”
Walker looks up. “You’ve been busy. We can check now, see what he’s been up to.”
I swallow past my frustration with myself. “Yeah. I can do that.”
Walker reaches for the card, looking it over like it might have clues, as they trail me to my room.
“What are the chances he’s going to fuck up our plans?” Walker asks.
