The Masked Truth(39)

We keep looking, but we aren’t finding a room. Most in this section are locked, and the rest are completely empty, giving us nothing to hide behind. Max whispers that we should head back to the room we were in last. I agree.

“I’d like to offer an apology.” Gray’s voice booms down the empty corridors. “Shocking, I know. But it’s in order. Things went off the rails earlier. Blame Gideon, and if he were still alive, I’d shoot him on sight—the moron. Maria didn’t help. I don’t know what she expected, running at me with a damned letter opener. Of course I shot her—all I saw was someone coming at me with a weapon. But enough blame. Things went wrong. We panicked. People died. You ran. Can’t blame you. That’s over now, though, and I think I have a solution. You guys come back. We’ll complete negotiations with Mr. Highgate. I won’t ask the other parents for money. Well, I’ll ask, but I won’t expect it. What counts is the big dog. He pays, and you all go free. Not before that, though. You’ll have to wait, because I can’t risk you tattling on me and jeopardizing our payday.”

No one slows. We keep checking doors and popping down side halls. And he keeps talking.

“What’s done is done. Can’t be fixed. But let’s not add to the body count. This will all go much easier if everyone takes a deep breath, calms down and cooperates.”

Max snorts. Brienne, though, slows to listen.

“Let’s stop this running-around nonsense,” Gray continues. “I’m sure you’re as tired of it as we are. And I’m sure you must be getting hungry by now.”

I catch up to Brienne and whisper, “Seriously? We’re running from gun-toting killers and thinking, Huh, I could really use a snack?”

“Actually, I was,” Max says, falling in as Aaron continues on ahead. “In fact, I may have grabbed a few granola bars when we were searching the kitchen. It’s been four hours. I’m bloody famished.”

“And now you have food,” I say. “Meaning we don’t need to stop and risk death so we can eat something.”

“I don’t know if I have enough to go around. Someone might need to surrender. You’ll volunteer, won’t you?”

“I would, but I’m not hungry. Maybe later.”

We’re talking past Brienne, who’s quiet but listening. We banter some more—silly jokes about snacks and guns that aren’t very funny, but the point is the banter itself, the shared verbal eye rolls that these guys would actually think we were stupid enough to surrender. Brienne’s hesitation evaporates, and she picks up speed, joining in with a few jibes about teen guys and food as we hunt for a hiding place.

Gray is still nattering on about “stopping this nonsense.” Just come out and we’ll all hold hands and sing campfire songs until Mr. Highgate coughs up the cash.

“I’d like Scotch,” Max says as we follow Aaron around a corner. “Sorry, ladies, but if he offers Scotch, I’m gone. It has to be at least fifteen-year single malt, though. Anything less will not do.”

“I’m holding out for a pony,” Brienne says.

“Too much work,” I say. “I’ll take a puppy.”

Brienne shoots back that a puppy is more work than a pony, and she’s relaxed now, paying no attention to Gray’s cajoling. Max winks at me, and I smile, and I feel … I’ll admit it, I feel good seeing that wink. As good as I can under the circumstances. That wink is a connection. We both knew that Brienne was wavering, and without a word exchanged we solved the problem together, and that feels … yes, it feels good, or as close to it as I’ll get tonight. It’s a reminder that I’m not alone in this, that there’s someone I can rely on and trust, someone on my wavelength.

Dad used to say that—we’re on the same wavelength, kid—whenever we came up with the same idea. Now I understand what he meant. I get Max, and I don’t need to worry that he’ll want to surrender or stop trying to escape or just say “to hell with it,” and rush Gray with our letter opener and safety scissors and hope for the best. I wouldn’t do any of that. So neither will he.

I’m about to say I’m going to move ahead and help Aaron search when Max motions behind Brienne’s back that he’s going to go ahead to search, and I laugh under my breath. He arches his brows. I shake my head, smile and wave him forward while I keep an eye on Brienne.





CHAPTER 16


“Here!” Max whispers. He’s opening a door to a room Aaron has already checked, and Aaron starts snapping something, but I see Max is gesturing, and I glance inside to spot an interior door. It’s right up near the front, meaning it’s obscured when the hall door opens. While Max stands watch, I dart in and check the second door. It opens into an empty room—which makes it less than perfect—but its hall door locks from the inside, which would give us an escape route.

Aaron and Brienne agree it’s a good temporary hiding spot. There are boxes in the first room. None are big enough to hide behind, but once we’re all in, Max grabs one and sets it right behind the closed hallway door.

“I think they can push a box aside,” Aaron says.

Max ignores him and sets a second one on top of the first.

“They can push that one too,” Aaron says.

“But it’ll topple when the door opens,” I say. “Which we’ll hear from that room”—I point to the adjoining one—“and can slip out the other way.”