Jo walked as quickly as she could away from the strange clock-shaped building she had woken up in, but it was difficult as her head hurt and she felt a little dizzy. She stumbled a few times as she walked, but the cold air helped her think more clearly. The people seemed nice enough, and she supposed she should be grateful that this Quin Black person had rescued her, but the whole thing was very odd. And if her dad’s house really had blown up, who was responsible? And was her dad even alive?
Her breath came in shorter gasps as she hurried through the streets. She could see red and blue lights flashing ahead, and when she was only one block away, she ducked into an alley. She needed a plan. She needed to know—was her dad still alive? What about Stanky or Sylvia? There were so many people she knew and even partially cared about! And if she could get inside, she could get her stash of cash, which would allow her to disappear.
She was still wearing the body armor from being White Rabbit, but the clothes she had on over top of it were clean and untorn. She didn’t look as if she had been in an explosion—as far as she could tell. She could probably walk up to the cop, pretending to be distraught and asking for survivors, and the police would feel sorry for her and tell her what she wanted to know.
Jo just hoped she could be convincing.
She took a deep breath and put on her worried face, angling her eyebrows so they made wrinkles over her nose, and worked up some alligator tears. Then she stepped out of the alley, striding right up to the police tape that blocked off the end of the street.
“Excuse me!” she called out. “Officer? Officer!” She waved her hand and then patted her throat, like she was so stressed she was having trouble breathing.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” a police officer stated, “but this is an emergency scene. We can’t let you inside the perimeter.”
“But this is my house!” She tried to make her voice sound overwrought and stressed. She had to make them believe she had no idea why the police were there. She had to make them believe she was completely innocent. “What happened? Where’s my dad? Is he okay?”
“What’s your name?” the officer asked.
“Jo,” she replied. “Jo Nash. Where’s my dad?” She really was almost crying now. It hadn’t really made a full impact on her that her dad could be dead—or worse, missing—until this very moment. She might not like him very much, but she did care.
“Please, come this way,” the police officer said, holding up the tape for her to step under. “Your father is injured, but he’ll be fine. He’s on his way to the hospital. I’m Officer Reynolds and I can take you there, but I’ll need to ask you a few questions first.”
“Okay, sure, fine,” Jo replied. “But make it quick, please. I need to go inside.”
“I’m sorry,” Officer Reynolds said. “You can’t go inside. The emergency personnel are still checking for remains, and the building is unsound. You will have to wait until tomorrow.”
Purple binnow rats, Jo thought. She had to wait until tomorrow and now she had to talk to the police until they were done with her. Talk about a bad call on her part. The worry she had for her father dissipated immediately, and she shifted her focus onto maintaining her façade of concern.
The next half hour was a blur. Police officers asked her dozens of questions about what had been going on in the house when the explosion occurred. She told them the story that she and Nash had agreed on years ago—a house party, nothing more and nothing less—with a few of Nash’s colleagues. Then she added her own details—she had been there but went to meet up with a friend, and returned in a hurry when she heard there was an explosion, and could she please see her father now because she was very worried about him and wanted to make sure he was okay.
“One more question,” Officer Reynolds said. “Could you please tell us the name of the friend you were visiting? For an alibi, you understand.”
Jo mentally berated herself for not saying she had gone out to run errands or something else that would not have an alibi. She couldn’t trust Quin Black and his friends, could she? But what other choice did she have? Quin would have to confirm her alibi—otherwise, he would have to admit to being at a house party thrown by Nasty Nash. That couldn’t be good for his career. But maybe there was something she could do first. Maybe she could distract the officer from the question by becoming upset.
“You don’t think I have something to do with this, do you?” She tried to sound offended, though she worried that her voice was too high-pitched and it might have come across as nervous instead.
“We don’t know yet,” the officer began, but Jo cut her off.
“What a horrible thing to say to a person whose father has just been in a terrible accident and is on his way to the hospital! You could at very least take me there and ask me all of these terrible questions later. I want to see my father!” She realized as she was saying this that she didn’t really want to see her father at all, that just knowing he was alive was more than enough information for her. But if he was her only way to get out of this, then she would use it. “I’m tired and stressed and upset, and now here you are accusing ME of trying to blow up my own house! It’s uncalled for, rude, and extremely upsetting.”
Officer Reynolds began again. “I understand that, but—”
“Do you understand? Do you?” Jo raised her voice as loudly as she could without screaming. “Have you ever come home to find your home in flames because of an explosion and heard that your father was injured and on the way to the hospital only to have the police tell you they think you’re responsible—”
“He had an insurance policy,” Officer Reynolds said loudly, cutting Jo off. “On himself, for several million dollars. There is plenty of motive right there, if you ask me or any other police officer. Now if you would please calm down and cooperate for two more minutes, then we will take you to your father. Please tell me the name of your alibi.”
Damn. It didn’t work. Obviously nothing was going to make Officer Reynolds forget about the alibi question and let her go.
“A name.” Officer Reynolds stared Jo down. “Unless you don’t have one? It was all a lie?”
Jo sighed and mumbled barely loudly enough for the police officer to hear, “Quin Black.”
“What did you say?”
“Quin Black,” she said a little more loudly.
“Did I hear you say Quin Black?” Officer Reynolds asked, her eyebrows so far up her head they could have been mistaken for hair.
“Yes,” Jo mumbled.
“Well, then,” Officer Reynolds quickly sent a message to someone. “He is an extremely reliable source of information. I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me that right off. Shall we be going then?”
• • • • •
The hospital smelled like a noxious blend of antiseptic and lemon juice, and the clean walls and floor looked as though they had recently been scrubbed. Officer Reynolds dropped her off at the front entrance of the hospital, and Jo decided she should go to the desk to ask about her father. She had thought about sneaking out the back and trying to avoid this entire conversation, but she had a feeling she was being watched, and decided she should at least put on a good show, no matter how tired or annoyed she was.
She carefully arranged her face into that of a worried daughter and rushed up to the nurse at the front desk.
“I’m looking for my father,” she said rapidly. “He was in an explosion and the police told me he was brought here and I need to see him to make sure he’s okay.”
“Last name Nash?” the nurse confirmed. “He’s in Room 32, and I believe he just woke up.”
“Oh thank you, thank you so much! You are really wonderful!” Jo gushed and rushed down the hall towards room 32.
Another nurse was attending him when she arrived.
“Oh, Dad!” she exclaimed, for the benefit of the nurse. “I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried! And when I heard from a friend that there was an explosion, I left and came back immediately.” She leaned down to give him a hug, and then asked, “What happened to your face?” He had a long bloody scar that ran across his forehead.
He nodded, clearly understanding that she had somehow left the house and come back.
“I’m glad you weren’t there, dear,” he said hoarsely.
“He’s going to be fine,” the nurse said. “A mild concussion, a cut where he hit his head, and some contusions, but nothing that shouldn’t heal up in the next week or so.”
“Oh thank you, thank you!” Jo waited until the nurse left the room and then turned back to her father. “What happened?” she hissed. “What are they going to find?”
“Not much,” her dad replied. “Jonas did his job well, and hid everything that would indicate anything illegal. Not sure what caused the explosion. I told them it was nothing more than a card game with friends. I’ve got Mason looking into it.”
“Mason,” Jo scoffed. “She’s completely incompetent.”
“Well, you’re welcome to dig around if you think you can do a better job,” Nash said harshly. “Just check with her first to see if she’s learned anything. What happened to you anyway?”
“I got knocked out and somebody dragged me to safety,” she replied. “But as far as you know, I was out visiting a friend.”
“Oh? What friend?” he asked.
“None of your business.” She crossed her arms. “Daughters don’t tell their dads everything after all.”
“Fine,” he said. He gestured to his bag. “There’s some cash there—take it so the cops don’t find it. They haven’t searched me yet. Too focused on getting me here. Oh, and those three cylinders in there—they should go too. Take the whole bag.”
“What are they?” she asked curiously.
“Payment of a debt,” he replied. “But they’re illegal so get them out of here before the cops find out I’m awake.”
She bent down and dug through the bag, quickly stuffing the cash into her pockets and bra. It wasn’t a huge amount of money, but enough to make someone suspicious. She would make it disappear. Maybe even use it for a deposit on an apartment.
She left the three cylinders in the bag and slung it over her shoulder—they were heavier than she expected. She’d drop them off at Mason’s when she stopped by—let her deal with her dad’s crap.
“I’m going to go now,” she said.
“Let me know if you find anything out,” Nash replied, coughing a little into his hand, “and I’ll show them they’re messing with the wrong guy!”
Jo took the back way out of the hospital, to avoid running into or being followed by Officer Reynolds. She walked down back alleys and side paths through the city until she arrived at Mason’s house. Jo and Mason had never gotten along, at least not since Mason had started dating Nash. Meg Mason had been a basic pickpocket and scam artist when she had tried to snag Nash’s wallet on the street one day. Instead of kicking her out of his territory, he had taken her in—all the way in. Jo found Mason to be snide and annoying, and the fact that she was around all the time was another really good reason for Jo to disappear for good.
“You find anything yet?” she asked, bursting in through the door without knocking. Mason sat in the kitchen with three of her buddies. They were discussing tactics.
“Oh hello, sweetheart,” Mason said. Her voice grated on Jo’s nerves. “So glad you’re okay. Your dad was worried about you.”
“I’m sure,” Jo replied. “Where were you?” She dropped the cylinders wrapped in her dad’s coat on the table. She figured she could leave them there—let Mason deal with them.
“On the other side of the house,” she replied. “Close enough to be of help, but not close enough to get injured.”
“Very convenient, I’m sure,” Jo muttered. “Have you figured out anything about who might have done it?”
“We have a list of names of people who were in the kitchen before and after the explosion. We eliminated the dead ones—because why, after all?—and have three names remaining.” She gestured to her friends. “Jace and Camile here will interrogate them, while Jorge and I will go collecting.”
“Collecting?” It seemed like a strange thing to do when someone was clearly trying to kill her father. Weren’t there more important things to be doing? Like finding the bomber?
“Of course,” Mason said. “We will need money to rebuild, after all.”
“Dad know about this?”
“Of course—it was his idea.” Mason smiled a little, and Jo scowled back. The smile always unnerved her—lips too thin, eyes too narrow, brows too low, like she knew something that Jo didn’t and it pleased her.
“Who’s on your list?” Jo asked.
“That is none of your concern.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Jo turned to leave.
“Oh, and Jo,” Mason said.
Jo paused and turned to look back.
“Be careful out there. Whoever wants your dad dead might want you dead too.” There it was, that smile again. That was a threat if she’d ever heard one.
Jo shook her head once. “I’ll be fine,” she said, and stormed out the door. She was going to have to keep a closer eye on Mason.
• • • • •
As soon as she left Mason’s, Jo realized something: she had nowhere to go. Her house had been demolished, she didn’t trust Mason, and her dad was in the hospital. She was exhausted and needed a place to sleep for at least a few hours, so she wandered up to a motel not too far away from the hospital and checked in. The clerk gave her a funny look—after all, she had no luggage or purse and she had pulled a wad of cash out of her pocket—but then showed her to her room and left her alone.
She slept late into the morning, despite the fact that the bed was extremely uncomfortable and itchy. The hotel offered a complimentary breakfast, which she scarfed up only minutes before they closed the kitchen for the morning.
When she exited the hotel, once again she felt lost. Where was she supposed to go? What was she supposed to do? She didn’t have class for another two days, since her father only let her take classes on a part-time basis. Her house was still destroyed, and what few friends she had who hadn’t been maimed because they owed her father money would be working. She should vanish, but to do that, she would need more resources than she currently had. She needed to get back into the house.
She began to wander aimlessly, and before long ended up standing in front of the hospital.
Officer Reynolds was parked out front. Jo tried to turn around and head back in the direction she had come from, but it was too late. Officer Reynolds was waving her down.
“Good morning!” she said. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep.”
“I did, thanks,” Jo replied politely. She decided to put on a sort of sad and depressed look, hoping that Officer Reynolds would feel sorry for her and leave her alone.
“I wanted to follow up on you this morning,” Officer Reynolds said. “We have some new evidence in the explosion—we think we might know where the explosives came from.”
“Yeah?” Jo asked. “Where?”
“A local hardware store called Bricks and Flicks. They rent movies too.”
“Interesting,” Jo said, keeping her face politely neutral. Her uncle owned Bricks and Flicks. She wondered if the police had figured that out, too.
“And we found a long, brown hair inside one of the components of the device that was flung out as the bomb detonated.”
“It was an actual bomb?” Jo asked. “Not a gas leak or something?”
“It appears to have been an actual bomb, yes,” Officer Reynolds.
Jo frowned. Mason had long brown hair. But why would she try to blow up Nash? Jo brushed off the thought. A lot of people had long brown hair.
“Can you think of any connections between your father and Bricks and Flicks?” Officer Reynolds asked.
“Um, yeah,” Jo said. She knew they would figure out the connection eventually anyway—there was no need for her to get in trouble for not being forthcoming on this particular question. “My uncle owns it. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t blow us up.”
“Interesting,” Officer Reynolds said, making a note.
“I’m sorry,” Jo said, feigning more tiredness than she felt. “But I would really like to go see my dad now, is that okay?”
“Of course,” Officer Reynolds said, waving Jo towards the building. “I’m sorry to bother you. We will be in touch if we have any more questions. Thank you so much!”
“Of course,” Jo said, and once again she found herself wandering into a hospital that she had no interest in being in. She began to devise a plan to sneak out the back, but was surprised to see her father talking to a nurse in the lobby, face wrapped in bandages.
“Jo!” he exclaimed. “So glad to see you. I was just checking myself out.”
“Have the doctors given you permission to leave?” Jo asked.
“Absolutely,” he replied smiling. “And it’s so wonderful of you to come help me get home.”
“Uh, sure,” Jo said, putting a smile on her face so it looked to the nurse like Jo was thrilled her father was getting out of the hospital early. “Officer Reynolds is outside,” she said, “if you want to ask her anything.”
“Oh, no,” Nash said. “Let’s head out the back door, why don’t we?”
Jo stepped forward, smiling pleasantly at the nurse, and helped her father walk casually out the back door of the hospital. As soon as they were outside, Jo dropped his arm.
“Well,” she said, “I’ll see you later then.”
“Hang on a second,” Nash said, reaching out to grab her wrist. “Why’d you come by the hospital?”
“I was trying to avoid Officer Reynolds,” Jo said. “I didn’t realize you would be up—I wasn’t even going to come see you.”
“But you still wandered by the hospital,” Nash argued. “Aimlessly, I suspect?” He smiled when she crossed her arms and remained silent. “Because you don’t know where to go.”
She still didn’t speak.
“Look,” Nash said. “I know you want to go to school, so how about I make you a deal? I’ll pay your college tuition—full semesters for an entire degree—if you help me with one last project.”
Jo stared at him. She had spent years begging him for this. All she wanted to do was go to school, get her degree, start a business, and pay taxes like a normal person! Not playing White Rabbit for her father’s secret gambling ring and breaking people’s fingers when they didn’t pay. Not pickpocketing to make a little money on the side, or breaking into empty houses on the weekends. She didn’t want to be a criminal—she wanted to be normal. This might be her chance.
On the other hand, it might be the job she got caught on, the one that put her in prison for the rest of her life.
But it might also free her. For real. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever done jobs for her father before, and this time, he was offering to pay her what she really wanted—an education. He sure knew how to manipulate her.
“What’s the catch?” she asked.
“No catch,” Nash said. “Other than that the job might take a few days. I’m not entirely sure. But it’s up to you. I’m not going to make you. If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone else.”
Jo frowned. A few days? She might miss class. But she could make up class, especially if her dad was going to pay for a full degree.
“Okay,” she agreed. “One last job, and then I’m done.”
“Good girl,” Nash said. “Now come with me to Mason’s house and I’ll tell you the details.”