“A mystery for another day. How’s my car, by the way?”
I glanced in my rearview mirror at the splintered hole in the glass. “I’ll explain everything when I pick you up.”
“Don’t bother. Ramón called. He was pissed when he drove all the way to that motel and the van wasn’t there. He’s coming to pick me up. If he doesn’t murder me when he gets here, I’ll look for the van on the way back and ask him to tow it in. Meet me at the garage.”
Vero disconnected.
I thumbed through the notifications I’d missed during the chaos of the last few hours.
A missed call from Sylvia, two from Julian, one from my sister, and three from my mom. My mom rarely called this late, and a ripple of concern washed over me as I pressed her number.
She answered on the first ring. “Finlay? I talked to Georgia.” Her voice was strangled and panicked, the words flying fast from her mouth. “Is Steven okay? She said someone is trying to kill him. What’s going on? And why are the children with your sister?”
“Steven’s fine, Ma.”
“Are you sure?”
“He’s with me right now. Georgia’s just babysitting.”
“Oh, thank god. I’ve been worried sick. Wait…” she said, her tone growing suspicious, “why are you out with Steven?”
“He had a little car trouble and I came to pick him up.”
“It’s not a date, is it?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Good. Oh, and call your sister. She’s looking for you.” My mother disconnected.
I reached to set my phone down as a notification popped on my screen. An email fromEasyClean,replying to the message Vero had forwarded to him.
Anonymous2, Nice try with the pics. Seems we both got duped. A little professional advice? Always insist on half up front. And next time, stay the hell out of my lane.
Steven opened the door and dropped into the passenger seat. I closed the message and tossed the phone in my lap.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said. “Turns out the impressive bounty being offered for your murder was an empty promise. Vero and I sent some very convincing photos of your corpse, but it appears the person who wanted you dead never intended to pay up.”
Steven unzipped his coat, plucking at the raspberry-colored stain on his sweatshirt. He licked the tip of his finger and laughed. “Someone’s not going to be happy when they realize I’m still alive.”
“Probably not, but I doubt that guy with the gun is going to come after you again.” I released a heavy sigh. “Nick’s a good cop. He’ll chase down the evidence from the gas leak and your slashed tires. Eventually, he’ll get to the bottom of it. But in the meantime, maybe you could try not to piss anyone off?”
“I’m trying.” He stared out the windshield, tracing the frame of his window with a finger. “So you and Nick, huh? I’m not saying I’m happy about it, but I guess I’m okay with it.”
“I don’t remember asking your opinionoryour permission.”
“At least he’s old enough to shave.”
“You said you were trying,” I reminded him.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “If you’re sure that guy’s not coming back, maybe we can get out of here. That dumpster reeks.”
I sniffed, too. The sweet, putrid smell of decay wafted from somewhere behind our seats, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t coming through the broken window. In all the chaos, I’d forgotten all about Carl.
“About that,” I said, starting the engine. “There’s something I need your help with. And I need you to trust me. Completely.”
Steven looked hesitant, even as he nodded. “Name it.”
