Page 59 of Jack
“And it’s dying, but I took a shot of the text on the screen. It says?—”
She read it aloud. “‘I’m done lying for you’? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. But look who sent it.”
She took the phone, studied it. “Wait. Does that sayMom?”
“Yeah, it does. I think we need to go back for a chat with my biggest fan.”
And Harper had absolutely no power to resist following him out into the night.
* * *
“Are you trying to get me killed? Or just incarcerated for a good ten to twenty?” Emberly leaned over her computer, her earwig in, seated cross-legged on the sheets of a queen-sized bed. The other bed was made, neat and tidy and free of any critters that might decide to emerge from the corners of the bad paneling of the Duck Lake Motor Lodge.
The place made her want to bathe, over and over, but it had ended up being the only gig in town that took cash and didn’t look too closely at her ID. Not that it wasn’t a perfect forgery, thank you.
The place reeked of burnt coffee—her fault—and maybe mildew from the grimy shower curtain. She’d pasted the floor with the thin towels and asked the desk for more. It wasn’t like they had a plethora of guests—one guy, who’d gone out earlier today, his room still uncleaned given the Do Not Disturb sign on his door.
Orange carpet, brown covers on the beds, gold lamps—the place had embraced the resurgence of the midcentury modern vibe, although Emberly doubted they’d done anything but stay the course from the original motif.
Reminded her too much of the old shows she’d watched while waiting for her mother to come home from work.
So yes, the Motor Lodge lacked charm, and even warmth, the heater on the wall fighting to kick out enough breath to cut the frigid January wind.
But she couldn’t go far, not with the job still ongoing, so she’d had to stick around this one-stoplight town and regroup.
“You always say I make it too easy. You’re the one who didn’t grab the phone.” Nimue, in her ear, laughing, her voice sweet and betraying nothing of her true identity as a hunter on the dark web. Nimue could spot scammers, posers, and catfishers with a glance at her screen and knew how to creep out of their ISP into real life. Bring down the predators, terrorists, and trackers.
But once in a while, when Ember needed her, Nim poked apart security systems and helped her strategize her next move.
Because that’s what sisters did.
“I got kicked out of dinner before I could find it.”
“Good thing he’s hosting the bachelor party.”
“At least you don’t want me to go in wearing a cake.”
“Please, please do that.”
She laughed. Wow, she missed Nim.
“Listen, wear the blonde wig, add some glasses and contacts, don a suit—you’ll be part of the security. In and out of Stone’s office, phone in hand. Order a pizza on your way home.”
“Is that like saying ‘Bob’s your uncle’?”
“The guys on the team say that. It’s a thing.”
Ambient sounds through Nim’s microphone suggested she might be sitting outside, maybe in the sunshine of some tropical café, enjoying an umbrella drink.
“Where are you?”
“A place on the river. I needed to get out of the bunker. It’s seventy-five and sunny, and there are a few manatees floating around near the dock.”
“I think I hate you.”
“You could actually quit, join me down here in Florida.”