No one bothered to give him a second look on the way out. He stopped at the cash machine.
There was a teenager loitering outside on the hood of an ancient Chevy that was as much primer as paint. He was nursing along a cigarette like a drunk with his last beer as he fiddled with a cracked-screen iPhone.
“Loan me your car,” Simon said as he walked over.
The kid looked up and screwed his face up in contemptuous dismissal. Then he saw the handful of fifties that Simon held out. His eyes went wide, and he squinted.
“This legit?” he asked suspiciously.
“What do you care?”
After he thought about that for a second, the kid realized it was a good deal and slid off the car. He fished the keys out of his pocket and held them out, but he hung on to the fob with a tight grip until the cash was in his hand.
“Phone too,” Simon said. “One call.”
The kid had already counted the number of bills he held, thumbed his way through the stack with a licked thumb. Simon could have asked for a kidney and probably gotten some serious consideration. He handed the phone over without question.
Once the sweaty plastic and glass was in his hand, Simon hesitated. Heneededto know that Jacob was okay. The doubt was an anxious weight in his chest, but… if there was anyone that he could count on to take care of himself first, it was Jacob. He called Devon instead as loyalty overrode guilt at the choice.
It rang drearily in his ear until it clicked over to voice mail. An anonymous voice mildly told Simon that there was no room to leave a message before it hung up on him. Shit. He pulled up the texts—winced out of the boob-heavy message thread—and typed out a brusque order toAnswer the damn phone. Simon.It wouldn’t help if Dev was busy or in the lab, but it might just be that he didn’t recognize the number and was screening.
“You said one call,” the kid said.
“I lied,” Simon said as he waited for the message to send. Once it did he tried again. That time Dev answered it immediately.
“Why the hell aren’t you using your phone?” he grumbled at Simon. There was pop music in the background, something upbeat and relentless, and the sound of Callie telling her dad to say hi from her.
“It’s broken,” Simon said. “Where are you?”
“In the car,” Dev said. “Callie got in a fight at school. They’re trying to suspend her for punching some boy who was harassing her. It’s ridiculous—”
“Good,” Simon said. “Look, has Nora been to the house in the last few days?”
“Nora?” Dev repeated. He sounded baffled. “I don’t know. I guess she might have…. Callie says she came over a couple of days ago to drop off some stuff from work. I thought it was just couriered over.”
“Call the security team in,” Simon said. “Have them sweep the building.”
There was a pause, and then Devon said, “Hold on a second.”
After a breath the engine and music cut off and Simon heard the heavy clunk of the door closing. When Devon spoke again, his voice sounded like he was in the open air.
“You think Nora’s involved?” He sounded skeptical. Simon didn’t blame him. Time served, Nora had been more a part of the family than Simon had been. When she was getting chemo, Becca had sent Simon selfies of her and Nora grinning and confident—before the doctors said it wasn’t working.
“I’m pretty sure,” Simon said. “It all fits. According to my source, this all started four years ago. When you took your sabbatical and Nora stepped in.”
It took a second, but not as long as Simon had expected. Maybe Dev had had his suspicions already and just needed a lens to focus them.
“Shit. I’ll have to let the board know,” Dev said.
“I can’t prove it,” Simon said. “Not yet.”
“They couldn’t prove I was involved. Didn’t stop them ousting me. I expect they’ll do the same with Nora. Where are you?”
“On my way back,” Simon said. “I’ll let you know when I get there.”
“Is there any way we can keep this in-house?” Dev asked. Self-consciously he added, “Becca loved her.”
“She was responsible for killing Clayton, Dev.”
