There’s a silence so cold I’m pretty sure my little finger gets frostbite just from touching the phone. “Youjust nowlooked at the venue? What have you been doing this whole time?”
Didn’t I tell you not to screw this up?
It’s fantastic to have both Cressida and my own Cressida-coded inner voice chastising me at the same time. “I didn’t realize there were multiple barns,” I say, knowing I sound like the world’s dumbest rookie. Maybe if I hadn’t been so distracted by Grayson and those stupid gray sweatpants…
“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” The phone must shift slightly away from her mouth because her next words are slightly muffled. “This is my fault for sending you instead of literally anyone else at the agency.”
I wait for inner-voice Cressida to add something, but she seems satisfied with that. “I screwed up, Captain. I know that. But I can’t protect the participants. We have to cancel the show.”
Her burst of laughter is as surprising and chilling as gunfire. “Cancel the show? We’re not doing that. This is the best chance we’ve had in years to catch The Witch. We’re taking it.”
I freeze, standing there on a slight rise, the roof of the smaller show barn visible over the trees. “Captain, moving forward with the show is a mistake.”
“Unlike you, Jensen, I never make mistakes. Do you know how long I’ve been chasing The Witch?”
Of course I know. Everyone knows. But I can’t help how my voice rises ever so slightly at the end, like I’m asking a question. “Ten years?”
“Ten years, four months, two weeks, three days, six hours and”—there’s a pause while I assume she glances at the time—“seventeen minutes. I’m only going to tell you this one more time: We are not cancelling this show.”
Understanding dawns on me. “You’re using me as bait.”
“Don’t take it personally, Jensen. I’m using everyone at the show as bait.Don’t screw this up.”
The click as she hangs up is soft, but it feels almost like an explosion.
CHAPTER 16
Don’t screw this up.
Okay. So here’s where things stand. Cressida won’t let me cancel the pig show. The Witch is still nowhere to be seen. And if I don’t figure things out in the next 24 hours, I’ll lose my job.
Or be dead.
And honestly, if I let The Witch attack this event and get killed in the process, Cressida will probably fire me posthumously anyway.
Dead and unemployed. Sounds about right for me.
So I have two choices. I can stand there in the slowly warming morning air, staring at the slice of barn I can see over the trees, or I can get back to work.
Obviously, it’s an easy decision.
Do I make it immediately?
No. It may be an easy decision, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to make myself walk back to the barn.
Eventually, though, I do. More people have shown up, and there are more pigs in what were previously empty pens. There are clearly regulars on the pig show circuit, calling each other’snames and hugging and standing around looking at pigs, most of whom are asleep or otherwise sprawled out, doing very little.
Petunia, though, is on his feet, pacing anxiously in his pen. I crouch down, wrapping my hands around the red metal bars of his pen, while the pig presses his face against the other side of the bars. His eyes find mine, and I am shocked at howGraysonhe is at this moment. I know I’m looking at a pig, but all I see is my partner.
“The other barn is a logistical nightmare,” I whisper. “But we’re not allowed to call off the show. We have to figure out who The Witch is and stop her from doing whatever she plans to do to the show, but I have no idea how we’re going to do it.”
Grayson grunts softly in what I take as a show of support. “I just—” I begin.
“Aw, that’s cute. I talk to my pig, but I never get down on his level. Does it help?”
I glance up to see Dani standing nearby, her pink-and-white checked shirt unbuttoned low enough to reveal a lacy white cami and a good amount of cleavage.
“Oh, definitely,” I say. “Really helps with our bond.” Not that I’m about to keep talking to Grayson while she looks on. I get to my feet, dusting off the knees of my jeans.
