Page 53 of I Will Ruin You

She blew smoke out through her nostrils.

“Draws attention to us,” he said.

She drew in some more smoke, then opened her mouth and let it drift out slowly. “Had to send a message.”

“Message,” he said dismissively. “Like we don’t have enough problems. A dead junkie, Tijuana on our ass.”

Andrea hadn’t known that Cherise chick had died in the alley until after the cop had left the bar. That sad sack of shit sitting next to her said something about it, guessed that must be why that cop was sniffing around. Andrea thought there was something off about the woman, that she didn’t fit in, but how did this guy know she was a cop? Came to our school, he said, after that kid blew himself up. And then he started moaning about how that was how he lost his janitorial job, like she gave a fuck.

Maybe, Andrea thought, that cop had been looking for her.

When Jim was busy with some customers on the other side of the room, Andrea slipped out the back. Didn’t take long to spot the cop sitting in her car, watching the place. She didn’t have Gerhard’s Audi that night. She had her own Jeep Wrangler, legit plates on the bumper that could lead someone straight to her, parked a short ways up the street. Couldn’t be seen getting into that.

So Andrea watched the watcher. Took cover behind a tree by the curb, a car length away. When the cop got out of her vehicle, Andrea did her thing. Got the bitch’s shoes, too.

“You should thank me,” Andrea said.

“Say again?”

“Now we know the cops are looking into this. We know now to be extra-careful. That calls for reassessment. Look at our risks, reevaluate.”

Gerhard considered the comment. “Like?”

“Alter our routine. Make personnel changes.”

“Like?” he said again.

“Billy’s a liability. If he didn’t steal from us, he was sloppy enough to let someone else do it. Either way, he’s gone. Find someone else. Use a different airport. Start over.”

“That’ll set things back.”

Andrea blew out more smoke. “Better a setback than have everything go to shit. What if that cop finds her way to him?”

“He does a retrieval today,” Gerhard said. “We’ve got a pickup tonight.”

“Last time,” Andrea said, stubbing out her cigarette on the hood of the Audi.

“The fuck?” Gerhard said, taking a tissue from his pocket and rubbing the spot. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Never call me dumb,” Andrea said. “I’ll put the next one out in your eye.”

Twenty-Four

Richard

Not long after Trent left, I had a text from someone named Arthur Crone, with the teachers union, saying he’d had a call from Bonnie and wondered if now was a good time to call. I texted back: Yes.

“I did some checking,” he said moments later. “You don’t have to worry about this lawsuit. It’s flimsy to begin with anyway. But we’ve got your back on this. Won’t cost you a penny.”

“Did you already tell Bonnie?” I asked.

“No, she asked me to look into it and then I went directly to you. You want me to let her know?”

“Leave it with me. And thanks.”

The moment I was done with Arthur, another text. This one was from Jack. He had been to the bank and had the ten thousand in cash for the boat. I replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

When I returned the yearbooks to the office, I asked Belinda if the school had addresses on file for former students.