City of Saints & Thieves(60)

“I have no idea. But they obviously knew Mama.” I chew my fingernail pensively.

“It’s not a big town. Maybe everyone knows everyone.”

“They were acting weird,” Boyboy says. He pulls out his computer and turns it on.

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Michael asks. “Mwika was last seen in Walikale Town, which is still a few hours up the road. Are we going there or staying here for a while to look around?”

“Boyboy, can you use that contact phone number from Mr. G’s files to try and track him?” I ask. “I don’t want to leave here if we don’t have a solid bead on him.” I ignore the scowl that Michael gives me at the mention of his dad’s stolen data.

“I’ll try. I take it First Solutions is not the sort of outfit to have a storefront?”

Michael shakes his head. “If only it were that easy. I don’t even know where they’re based. They seem to just send people out to different locations. I’ve been trying to contact them for days but no one ever answers the phone. I’ve left a dozen messages. Maybe whatever contact number you have is better.”

“What did you dangle?” Boyboy asks, looking over his screen.

“Dangle?”

Boyboy rolls his eyes. “Did you tell them who you are?”

“Of course not!”

Boyboy looks unimpressed. “Give me what you’ve got on them and I’ll see what I can do to lure someone out. Someone must know where to send Mwika’s pay.”

Michael looks back at me. “And while he’s on that, what should you and I do?”

“How far away is Extracta’s mine? Can we go there and poke around?”

Michael shifts. “You want to go there? Shouldn’t we stay close, in case Boyboy finds Mwika?”

“We came all this way. You want to just sit here and do nothing?”

“We’re here to find Mwika, right?” Michael asks. “I mean, what else do we need?”

I stand up. “I want to find out what Mama knew about your dad that she was going to tell Donatien.”

From the corner of my eye I see Michael’s shoulders tense. He doesn’t say anything.

“What about the hidden file thing from your mom’s photo?” Boyboy asks. “Anything you two can do to make sense of it? It’s got to be important somehow.”

“What hidden file?” Michael asks.

I give Boyboy a pointed stare.

Boyboy blinks. “Uh. Never mind. Nothing.” He ducks behind his screen.

“What file?” Michael asks again, turning on me.

“I . . . It’s from your dad’s data. I didn’t think you needed to know. Yet. I mean, it might have nothing to do with Mama.”

“Show me,” Michael demands.

Boyboy looks at me and I sigh. “Go ahead.”

He pulls the handwritten list of names and numbers up on his computer and shows it to Michael.

“What is this?” he asks, eyes flashing. “And when exactly were you planning on sharing it with me?”

“I’m showing it to you now, aren’t I?” I say. “Besides, we don’t know what it is either. It’s just names and numbers.”

Michael points at the screen. “Mobile Interests. Do you know what that is?”

“No,” I say, crossing my arms.

He scowls. “Well, if you’d shown it to me, I could have told you.”

“What is it?” I ask eagerly.

Michael just stares at me, incredulous. He opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, but then just shakes his head. “It was the trucking company Extracta worked with,” he says. “They transported ore to Sangui City until Dad found out they were stealing from him.”

“How do you know all that?” I ask.

“It was this whole big blowup at home because Mom’s family owned part of the company.” His face is still clenched in anger.

I lean back. “Okay, that’s good information.”

“You can’t keep stuff like this from me, Tina.”

“Don’t be a baby,” I say, standing up again. “I don’t have to share everything with you.”

“You do if you want my help figuring out who killed your mom!”

I poke a finger in his face. “I’m still betting your dad killed my mom, so why would I want to share this with you?”

“Okay, children, okay,” Boyboy says, coming between us. “That’s enough fun for one night. I think we’ve all been in a banana lorry too long, and it’s time to get our beauty sleep. You two can pick up where you left off tomorrow.”

“Fine,” I say. I grab a lantern and stalk out. I can hear Michael and Boyboy continue to talk behind me, and I slam the door to my room. Who does Michael think he is? He shouldn’t even be here. I could have done this all by myself.

You still don’t know where Mwika is.

Well, myself and Boyboy, then. I flop onto my cot and stare at the ceiling, feeling my anger pulse through me like a fever.

In the quiet, I realize how loud the insects and frogs are outside. Rain starts to clatter on the tin roof like thousands of tiny stones. In the dim of the lantern I pull the photo of my mother and her prayer card out of my pocket. I look at the card, then the photo, as if something in the back of my mind is telling me they’re connected. But I can’t see how. The photo is getting crunched up from being carried around in my pocket, but Mama’s face and eyes are as sharp as ever. The face of the girl beside her pulls at some thread of recognition, but it’s like trying to grab spiderwebs. She melts away under my touch. Once, she meant something to my mother. They were obviously close. I feel a tug of anger again. Shouldn’t I know who this woman is? Why did Mama never say anything about her?