Lies(28)

“Okay. Sorry. I got carried away.”

“Remember, you’re on a missing persons list. We do not need any attention. Just try and act natural.”

“There’s nothing natural about wearing five-inch heels,” I scoff.

The side of his mouth quirks.

Bear is stowing the jet or whatever it is you do with those things when they’re not in use. I thought I had an idea of what my life with and without Thom would be like. But it’s all changing so fast I can barely keep up. I’d thought maybe I’d feel better once I was away from stifling safe houses and creepy cabins in the woods and back in public, among people again. But instead it turns out that being out in the open sucks. Paranoia is once again running rife, the back of my neck itching with the feel of being in somebody’s crosshairs. Thom moves us at a good pace, though we’re definitely not running for cover. Guess it means we’re okay for now.

He draws a fob out of his pocket and the lights of a new black sedan flash once. I’m ushered into the passenger side while he moves around the front of the car to take the driver’s seat.

“Are we waiting for Bear?” I ask, doing up my seat belt.

“He’ll catch up with us later. There’s a cell in the glove compartment—do you mind getting it out?” The engine purrs to life and we’re on our way, out of the parking lot and onto the streets in a built-up industrial-looking area.

“Sure.”

“It’s not locked. I need you to key in some contacts for me, please.”

My thumbs move over the screen.

“Contact one, ready?” he asks.

“Go for it.”

He rattles off a string of numbers. “Now text to them the word report. Just that. Nothing else.”

“Done.”

The exact same process is repeated no less than nine times, with Thom reciting the numbers off the top of his head. Me remembering my own number is a minor miracle. But he has no problem, never hesitating, never getting a digit wrong. Again, the question of how intensive his training was and what it covered makes me wonder. I know he’s dangerous. I also know he says he’s on my side. I think I trust him. But none of this really helps answer the fundamental question: Who the hell have I been sleeping with?

“Contact two says Fox is clear,” I report. “I take it that’s your hacker doing checks to see if there’s any online trace of backstabbing and murder?”

The skin tightens around his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Hey, you gave me the cell.”

“I know.”

“You’re just not used to me being all up in your business.”

His lips flatline. “I don’t want you in any more danger than you already are.”

Another alert flashes across the screen. “Contact one says ‘The Thornbrook.’ What is that, a hotel or something?”

“Yeah. Upscale. Good security.” He’s frowning, so maybe The Thornbrook isn’t our new safe house, but something else entirely.

“How are you going to get inside?” I ask. “I assume that’s what you need to do.”

He takes his time answering, gaze switching from the road to me and back again. “The less you know, the better. I’ll think of something.”

“So you’re not going to tell me who you’re going to meet there either, huh?”

“No, I’m not.”

I set the cell in my lap, thinking deep thoughts. It’s way too late to keep me safe by keeping me in the dark. The man is an idiot. So what if I’m constantly terrified and freaked out over all of this? I need to know what we’re dealing with so I can be better prepared. Already, people have tried to blow me up, interrogate me, and I’ve been in my first gunfight. Fact is, the sooner he sorts out this mess, the better. So I can tell my friends and family that I’m okay. Get back to my normal life and find out if I still have a job. Put all of this crazy behind me. No idea if this will mean saying goodbye to Thom. No idea how I even feel about that. Probably best to deal with one impossible situation at a time.

“You’re checking all of your work pals out via the hacker you hired since they’re the most obvious suspects and there’s a high probability of this being an inside job,” I say, putting all of the pieces together inside my head. “You said earlier that Bear was the first to be cleared by our new hacker friend. I assume Fox is the second. No bad guys outed among the group so far. So no leads on that front.”

A big loud nothing from Thom. Meaning I’m probably on the right track.

“You said something to Badger about having trouble getting a message through to the bosses. Guess they either don’t want to be caught up in this, or they’re the ones responsible.”

A muscle pops in the side of his jaw.

“You’re going to make contact with one of them, aren’t you? One of the bosses?”

“How did you figure that out?” he growls. “Did another text come in?”

“No.” I raise my chin. “I used my brain.”

He glances at me.

“Also, I watch thrillers and spy movies. I know stuff,” I say. “And I manage a successful, high-volume inner-city florist with a multimillion-dollar turnover. Every day I deal with impossible deadlines and frantic brides. I organize things and solve problems. Well, I used to, before I became a fugitive. Point being, I’m not stupid.”