I picked up a mug off the counter and threw it, unable to handle my anger any other way. It crashed into the far wall, ceramic scattering to the floor before sliding to a halt.
“Lucky for us,” Ethan continued, unfettered by the sounds on my end,“her brother Nash took his new wife away on a private jet this week. We aren’t sure where, which is a good thing because Matteo won’t know where he went either. But Betty... I think they’ve figured out your romantic connection. If they know she might actuallymeansomething to you, and that she was involved in the Rembrandt heist?”
“Shit,” I swore again.
Ethan added,“I mean, the tension between you and Betty in those heist clips, glaring at each other before you ran off stage... Even I could see the connection there, man. I’d hate for them to use her to get to you. In my experience, that never ends well,” he finished.
I pressed my fingers to my forehead, breathing deep.“Okay, damn it. Do me a favor, will you, E?”
“Anything, man.” He sounded genuinely eager to help.
“Can you just go ahead and put a team on her? Don’t wait. And put another team on the Beaumont Antiquities building? Alert the FBI if you have to. Just monitor her for me until I can get down there. I’d feel better if there were people close by.”
I began scanning my space, tallying all the items I’d need on a list in my head. If I hurried, I could be out of here in less than an hour and on my way toward town to grab my truck from storage.
“Yeah. But, dude,” Ethan began.“Coming down here isn’t smart. If they see you, they aren’t gonna hesitate,” he warned.“And if they see you anywhere nearher, you’ll both be in Matteo’s crosshairs for sure, not just a person of interest.”
“I don’t care,” I protested.“I can’t have them sniffing after Betty. If they’re tailing her, she’s already in their crosshairs more than I’d like. I need to get down there and take care of this. I can’t keep hiding and hoping she’ll be okay. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”
The pot on the stove began boiling, filling the air of the cabin with a toasty, grainy scent.
“I knew you’d react this way,” he said with a sigh. There was a distinct lack of surprise in his voice. After a pause of silence, he spoke again.“Okay. I just sent a text to have my men focus on Betty, and I’ll also contact the FBI and get an official team. I’ll try to put a rush on it, but it could be a few days with the FBI.”
I grumbled. A few days felt like too long.“Listen, I’m glad you told me. Do you have any information about who Matteo assigned to tail her? Have any of you guys noticed?”
I heard some clicking and typing on his end before he replied.“Yeah, looks like one of my scouts said it was Ron on the job.”
“Ron—right. Well, at least he’s not a complete nut like some of Matteo’s other guys. Still dangerous, but he has a sense of morality on some things.” Ronny had a daughter, and wouldn’t hurt Betty unless he had to.
“Just stay safe, okay?” Ethan’s voice was suddenly sincere.“I’m rooting for you. You’re a rare breed, having made it this long on your own.”
It was rather a backhanded compliment, but still a compliment.“Thanks, E.”
I rummaged through the closet in the corner where I kept my travel supplies: guns, knives, cameras. I pulled out each item and began laying them across my bed.
“Anytime, Gray.” He hung up immediately.
I heard the oats in the pot begin to gurgle and bubble up, now cooked. The satellite phone bounced when I tossed it down on the mattress and grabbed the pot from the stove, setting it to cool before continuing with my packing. In a bag, I tossed in a few more of my tiny surveillance cameras. My intention was to place extras around her house and outside, even down the street.
Ten minutes later, the rucksack was packed tight, having also added camping gear. Considering how I’d left New York, finding a safe place to hide would prove tricky, so the street seemed like my best option. People ignored the homeless—invisible in plain sight.
By my desk was another, smaller bag. I hoisted it onto the tabletop and packed up my computer and a few mini solar chargers I could use to ensure I didn’t go without power.Throwing the rucksack over my shoulder and the smaller bag in hand, I secured the cabin and concealed the key before heading to the shed.
I walked fast down the hill, avoiding patches of ice-covered snow, and flung open the doors. The lights switched on with my presence, scarcely illuminating the space. I pulled back the snowmobile cover and examined the fuel level. Topping off the tank with a gas can, I attached my rucksack and small bag to the back using bungee cords.
I heard the familiar scurry of a pine marten across the shed roof, probably the same one that turned me into his breakfast peep show. He was young and extra curious. Too bad I wouldn’t be here to keep an eye on him. It wasn’t long before he was chittering outside the door before darting into the shed and beneath the snowmobile.
“Come on, little dude. What’s your issue? You’re going to slow me down.”
He chirped from under the chassis.
“Well, if you’re gonna hang around, you’re gonna need a name. How about Larry?”
There was scratching and movement, a tail popping out, then a probing little head.
“I’ll take that as a yes? Larry it is. Okay, Larry, you’re in charge until I come back, got it? I’m trusting you to keep Tallulah out of the greenhouse.” The greenhouse was secure and electrically charged for this reason, but anything was possible in the deep wilds of Canada.
Larry, with a curious paw, gently touched my leather boot and then rubbed his face against it. He proceeded to roll against my heel, enthusiastically buffing the dirty leather like a shoeshiner. There was a smell there he apparently enjoyed, likely the leather. His kind was always nosy, sprightly, and clever, and more likely to bite your face off than cuddle. This little one was proving to be an exception.
