They ate cinnamon toast with rainbow sprinkles while morning light streamed through the windows, and April thought:This. This is what I was fighting for.
The Watchdog conferenceroom smelled like coffee and leather and the fresh flowers in a vase on a side table. April sat between Shane and Kyle. Lach sat across from her. Gina stood as usual. There were almost as many dogs in the room as therewere humans—Sam, Fleur, Camo, and Pete. Kevin was up front with Miss Jodie, working on a puzzle.
"The authorities attributed Echo Ridge to warring gangs," Gina said, her voice calm and professional. "Russian mob elements fighting over territory. Vince knew Yuri from prison and was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"What about Vince's lawyer?" April asked. "And Gabriela? She saw me leave with?—"
"Handled," Gina said. "Vince's lawyer was compensated to maintain client confidentiality. He won't talk about his former client's activities or whereabouts that day."
"And Gabriela was told that on the day of the hearing, an ambulance took you to the hospital," Kyle added. "You'd twisted your ankle and hit your head. They wanted to check for concussion."
"You had a minor one," Shane said, squeezing her hand. "You couldn't call us from the clinic because I had your phone. Then you were resting so I got back to her for you and explained everything. You're perfectly fine now.”
April blinked. "She believed that?"
"She had no reason not to," Gina said. "The courthouse was evacuated. There was confusion. An ambulance was there for the smoke inhalation cases. The story fits."
"But will authorities track it back to us?" April's voice rose slightly. "What if?—"
"They won't." Gina's golden eyes were steady. "And if somehow they did, it would be fixed immediately."
April wasn't sure she wanted to know whatfixed immediatelymeant in Gina's world.
"Now," Gina said, pulling out a familiar object from her bag. "Let's talk about this."
April's Lucky Louis. Battered now, from the shootout, but still recognizably hers.
Gina opened her hand. On her palm lay a tiny memory card, no bigger than a fingernail.
"Unbelievable," April whispered. "Something that small caused all of this."
"We found it in the lining," Gina said. "But we need the password." She dropped the chip into April's palm. "Any idea what Vince might have used?"
April stared at the tiny chip. This was it. This was what Vince had killed for. What he'd nearly gotten her killed for.
"I could try a few things," she said. "How many attempts do I get before it locks?"
"The encryption allows unlimited attempts," Gina said. "But every wrong guess adds exponential processing time. After three or four failures, we're looking at hours between tries."
"No pressure," April muttered.
Shane squeezed her hand. "Take your time."
Gina set up a laptop, inserted the chip into a reader. A prompt appeared on screen, cursor blinking.
ENTER PASSWORD
April's hands shook. "This is the biggest bet I've ever placed."
"Would it be your birthday?" Shane asked.
April laughed despite herself. "Oh hell no. Vince was way too self-absorbed. It would be his birthday. He used his birthdate as the code for our home safe. Vince was not a complicated guy. He liked himself. He liked money. He liked fine things."
She waited until her hands stopped shaking, then typed:
PROSECCO0815
INCORRECT PASSWORD
