The Black Coats(39)
Without another word, she walked over to the car, popped open the trunk, and grabbed a piece of plastic sheeting. She threw it over his body. It was a warm Texas night, but she couldn’t risk exposure. Still, it was a mercy Jonathan didn’t deserve. After that, she walked over to a nearby tree and snapped off a small branch before turning to the red dirt in front of the bench. Then she flung the stick into a nearby bush and dusted off her hands as she climbed into the car. She found her team staring straight ahead, out the windshield, not speaking. “It’s done. Now, let’s hurry home because I have homework.”
“Yeah, about that . . . ,” Mirabelle started.
“No can do,” laughed Casey. “How about tacos instead?”
“I vote tacos,” added Bea. “And we need our entire team to get tacos, Thea.”
Louise spun around in the front seat to look at Thea. “Yeah, be the leader we need, Thea, not the one we deserve.”
At her intense expression, Thea burst out laughing. “Okay, fine. Tacos it is.” She looked behind her as the car pulled away, out of the park. In the light of the moon she could make out the huddled lump that was Jonathan and the message she had left in the dirt for him:
Roofie again and we’ll kill you.
She clenched her hands as they rolled into the night, ignoring the sharp sliver of guilt passing through her. Justice may have been delivered, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep much that night.
Fifteen
He didn’t know she was watching him.
That morning, while her parents thought she was over at Drew’s house, Thea had driven into downtown Austin hoping that she would see him: Cabby Baptist, the man who had killed her cousin. Two months of Balancings had made her quite bold; she had created some aliases to follow him on social media, hoping to find any clue, but his social media game was almost nonexistent. He never posted, and nothing had been gained. Except for last night, when a single picture of an oozing cinnamon roll popped up, the caption underneath it reading, “Will be eating one of these tomorrow!”
Thea knew exactly where he was talking about. Elizabeth’s Café in downtown Austin was famous for their rolls. She couldn’t explain to herself exactly why she needed to be there, but she did. She had waited for an hour and a half before he showed up, but her patience paid off: at 9:36 a.m. his white pickup truck puttered to a stop in the parking lot. Sitting on the hood of her car, Thea put down her own delicious roll and raised her binoculars.
She felt adrenaline rushing through her as she watched him; she hadn’t seen this man since the police station, and there he was, grinning at the young cashier like he hadn’t killed a girl her age nine months ago. Thea ground her teeth together as she watched him, elaborate fantasies playing out in her mind in which she smashed his head on the glass tabletops and dragged him into her trunk. She took a long sip of her coffee, her hands shaking just a little. He disappeared into the folds of the restaurant and was seated at a table where she couldn’t see him very well. Dammit. She wiped her hands on her pants and eyed his car. Maybe if she could jimmy the lock . . .
Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it with a sigh. A Balancing. Of course. She narrowed her eyes at Cabby’s car. I’ll be back for you later, she thought.
Mademoiselle Corday loomed above the trees as Thea parked the Honda in the driveway. The face of the house stared menacingly down at her while Thea trotted inside, buttoning her black coat as she went. Team Banner was lingering at the front door of the house, waiting patiently for her. “Hey, ladies!” She crowed.
They responded with silence, their bodies all clustered together in the foyer.
“What’s wrong?” Thea asked.
Bea finally looked up and motioned Thea over, her soft face drawn in with concern. “Look.” Thea made her way into their circle, where Team Banner stared down at their Balancing sheet lying on the entry table. When she read the first line, Thea felt her stomach drop.
TEAM BANNER, CODE EVENING
TARGET NAME: Raphael Amadoor
DATE OF BALANCING: May 9, 4:30 p.m.
OFFENSE: Mr. Amadoor is a well-known plastic surgeon living just outside of Austin. He is also a habitual wife and child abuser who has escaped the justice of law due to his high status in the community, as well as his connec-tions with corrupt law enforcement. He has been accused of beating two women at a hotel. His wife and daughter have recently fled Texas for the safety of Guadalajara.
BALANCING: Please make sure that he is unable to hurt any woman ever again.
Good luck!
Signed,
The Black Coats
“Are we ready for this?” asked Louise, always so thoughtful.
“Hell yes!” snapped Mirabelle. “I’ve been ready for this for a long time.”
Casey frowned. “Me, too, in theory. It’s just . . .”
“Terrifying,” finished Thea, her hands curling around the paper, taking in as much information as she could. Some photographs slid out from behind the Balancing sheet: graphic photos of the marks he had left on his wife: blackened eyes, cracked and bloody lips, a broken nose, her face shaded in purple bruises.
“Who does this to another person?” whispered Casey.
Thea felt her fear dissolve into a churning anger. “Let’s pack up,” she ordered. Their supplies were already sitting by the door.
Thea dropped the Balancing sheet into a nearby fireplace and followed her team out of Mademoiselle Corday. Nixon was standing in the driveway. “Listen up, girls. The Balancings that Team Banner has been assigned so far have been specifically chosen for the nature of the man. Arthur, Jonathan, and all the others you have attended have been pushovers. These were set up so that you could experience a Balancing without an imminent risk of danger to yourselves. Men like Raphael are different. Be on your guard.” Nixon took a deep breath as she climbed into her black car. “As this is your first Code Evening, I’ll follow you there, but I won’t be coming in with you.”