“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” she says with her mouth full.
She’s quite a sight, shoveling in waffles with one hand while holding a bag of frozen peas on her eye with another.
Howard and I sit down and dig into our food.
“Where are you from, Tanya?” I ask.
“Philadelphia,” she says between bites.
I do the math in my head. Philadelphia is a four- or five-hour drive from the house where I found her.
“Can you tell me how you got to the house?”
“I was in a park and I felt a sharp pain on my neck, like I got stung by a bee, but then everything went dark. I woke up in the back of a truck, not knowing where I was. I screamed until I was hoarse, but nobody answered me. Eventually I passed out, and I didn’t wake up until the doors opened.”
“And then?”
“The men pulled me out of the truck, took me into the house, and started to ask me questions.”
She lowers the bag of peas. The swelling is down around her eye, but the bruise is an ugly purple-red color.
“Questions about what?” I say.
“About the neighbor.”
“Your neighbor?”
“My friend’s neighbor. He died last week.”
“Why do you think they were asking you questions about him?”
Her voice drops to a whisper. “Because I saw him die.”
Howard looks surprised. I can tell he hasn’t heard this before.
“We have to get out of here,” Tanya says, her eyes suddenly flitting back and forth, fear breaking through her composure. “We have to get away and call the police. They’re going to come back for us!”
She tenses in the booth, ready to bolt. I grab her across the table.
“Tanya, keep your voice down,” I whisper. “I know you’re scared, but you have to trust me.”
She looks at me with tears in her eyes.
“Can I trust you?” she says.
“Yes,” I say, knowing it’s a lie.
Her breathing slows as she settles.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she says.
I glance at her face, trying to determine whether she might run, call the cops, or take any action that could harm us. I’m betting on the bond she and Howard have established in captivity. They’re both still traumatized, and she won’t want to leave him alone.
“Go ahead,” I say. “We’ll pay and meet you outside.”
Howard gets up, and Tanya slides out of the booth and hurries to the restroom.
“You didn’t know about her neighbor?” I ask Howard.
He sits back down. “She didn’t tell me.”
Before I can ask another question, the waitress appears at the table.
“Which one of you is Zach?” she says.
Howard looks at me, puzzled.
“I’m Zach,” I say with a smile, as I slip a steak knife from the table, palming it in my lap, ready to defend us if need be. “How do you know my name?”
I scan the space for danger, my senses firing on all channels.
“Your brother described you,” the waitress says.
“My brother?”
She holds out an old cordless phone. “He said it was an emergency and he couldn’t get through on your cell.”
I take the phone from her hand.
“Sorry about this,” I say. “We’re having some trouble at home.”
She waves me off. “My manager is out, so it’s fine.” She walks away.
I motion for Howard to be quiet, then I bring the phone to my ear.
“I trusted you,” Mike says.
The anger in his voice surprises me.
“Do you know how many men I had to kill?” he asks.
“I’m guessing the answer is ‘too many’ or ‘not enough.’”
“All of them,” Mike says. “Our own assets are dead because of you. Then I blew up the goddamn house.”
“Why did you do that?”
“To cover the evidence and save your ass.”
“Are you sure it was my ass you were saving?”
“What do you mean?”
I glance toward the restroom, checking for Tanya. She hasn’t come out yet. I need to stall for time.
I say, “Maybe you destroyed the evidence at the holding house because it implicates you. How did I find out about the house? Who sent me there in the first place?”
“You’re going to tell Mother I sent you on a mission?”
“If I have to.”
“Do it if you want to give yourself away,” Mike says. “Right now, The Program doesn’t fully comprehend the situation. They’re rushing more assets into the area, but they don’t know what they’re looking for. Or who.”
“Do they suspect me?”
“Suspect? Of course. But they don’t know. They asked me to go and check on you in Columbus. Make sure everything was on the up and up.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I said I’d be there by morning. You know what that means?”
“Jeni’s ice cream at North Market. You’re buying.”
“Funny guy. It means I have until morning to find you. And finish this. You want to bring yourself down, that’s one thing. But you are not bringing me down. No way in hell.”
Right now I’m running a checklist in my mind. How did Mike know to call me here? He must be tracking us somehow.
Mother still thinks I’m in Columbus, Ohio. The leapfrog app on my phone is broadcasting locations several hundred miles from here. And we weren’t followed when we left the holding house.
That means there’s something I’m missing. I decide to try the direct approach.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask Mike.
“If I tell you, that kind of kills the magic.”
“So you know where I am, but The Program doesn’t.”
“Not unless I want them to.”
Mike is arrogant. It’s one of the few flaws I might be able to use against him.
Tanya steps out of the restroom, her face freshly washed and shining, her bangs hanging low to try to hide her bruise.
She sees me on the phone and hesitates. I signal for her to meet us at the front door.
“You’re with them now,” Mike says.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you,” Mike says.
“Obviously not as well as you think you do.”
I check outside the diner window again.
“I’m coming for you,” Mike says. Then he laughs, a hollow sound that sends a chill through me.
If he’s coming for us, that means he isn’t here yet.
I put the phone down.
“The waitress said the call was for Zach,” Howard says. “Is that your name?”
I nod.
“Do I know you?”
“Not by that name. Howard, we can talk about this later. Right now we have to go.”
I use a napkin to wipe down the utensils and glasses on the table, removing fingerprints and trace evidence. When I’m done, I do the same with the phone, wiping it from top to bottom, before leaving it for the waitress on top of a pile of money for the bill, along with a sizable tip. If she’s questioned later, the goodwill from the tip could mean the difference between her cooperating with authorities and playing dumb.
“The person on the phone wasn’t your brother, was it?” Howard says.
“No.”
“Was it that guy outside the house?”
“His name is Mike,” I say. “He’s a dangerous individual.”
“I got the idea when he shot those three men.”
As I stand up, I wrap the blade of the steak knife in a napkin and slip it into my pocket.
I don’t like knives, in general. But I’ll use one to save a life if I have to.
Or to take one.
Howard follows me to the front door, where we intercept Tanya.
“Who was on the phone?” Tanya asks Howard.
“A bad guy,” Howard says.
I wave thanks to the waitress, indicating the money is on the table. She gives me a thumbs-up.
“Follow me,” I tell Howard and Tanya. “Stay close.”