“So what?” Annalise snapped. “This isn’t an accusation. This is nothing. I’m more worried about that pathetic magical attack back in our rooms, and I’m not worried about that at all.” I glanced in the rearview to check Daria’s expression, but I couldn’t see it. Annalise might have been a tank, but some of us had to actually be careful. “Let the police come after us, if they want. Nothing will tie us to this crime. Whatever it is.”
Daria put her phone away. “Well, no. Not if the police are, you know, honest.”
Annalise frowned.
“Boss, even cops who think of themselves as honest public servants will cut corners if they think the cause is right. Besides, this isn’t even the first video.”
Daria reached down and touched the bag beside her. I wasn’t sure if it was an unconscious instinct to seek comfort in her computer or if she had to quash the urge to search out the first video because we were busy. “I wish I’d known that. Anyway, this video, real or not, is going viral. It already has over a hundred thousand views. It’ll be a million before the end of the day.”
Annalise shook her head. “But I just said that thing about Oregon a few minutes ago.”
“They must have had the rest of the video ready,” Daria said. “They just dropped in your quote, googled a likely victim, and paid a few bucks to shove it into people’s social media… Hey, I have to ask this.”
“No,” I snapped at her. “No, we didn’t have anything to do with that missing girl.”
“Of course not,” she said, looking at the floor. “I knew that. Of course not. I’m sorry, but I had to ask.”
“Shut up,” Annalise snapped. “You don’t know a thing about me or what I’ve had to do. We’ve been trying to operate in the shadows, but that’s not working. We need to go on offense. Right now.”
“Not quite yet,” I said. “Our new ride just turned radioactive, so the first thing we need to do is talk to Rick about his Sienna. He’s going to be our second stop.”
I drove toward Serrac’s place again, turning the next few steps over in my mind, trying to decide what should come first and what would be the biggest risk.
I had plenty of time to think about it. It was almost five in the afternoon, and I was stuck in peak-time traffic. I white-knuckled the steering wheel while the sun set and the light turned movie-perfect.
Fuck all this. If I went all Daria in this traffic, tearing through intersections in Rick’s boring old minivan, I would probably just get caught in another video. I wasn’t sure what that would mean for us, or what harm it could do, but it still made me angry.
We needed to take the fight to Serrac. He needed to be worried about us, not the other way around.
Which meant we needed to visit Rick, our minivan pal, so we could put a collar and leash on him. Daria knew better than to talk to cops—or anyone—about anything to do with the society, but Rick was a civilian renting out his spare vehicle. If the cops—or anyone—leaned on him, he needed to know there would be consequences for squealing.
But as important as that was, we needed to dump this ride first. If the cops were looking for us, their automatic plate readers could get us pulled over at any moment.
It took another twenty minutes to reach the parking lot of the Applebee’s where Annalise and I landed on New Year’s Day, right before we hit Serrac’s house. I parked against the side of the building to block the front plate, but there wasn’t much dirt to make mud with, so I couldn’t spatter the back bumper to disguise the numbers.
“Well?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips. She looked aggravated, as though I had made a plan without telling her about it. Which I had.
“Right. Sorry, boss. I should have explained things in the car. Grab something to eat while we can, and get something that won’t be messy in a car. For me, too. I’ll be back with a new ride as soon as I can.”
“Serrac’s ride?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Wait,” Daria called as I was about to hurry away. There was no one within thirty yards of us, but she moved close to me and lowered her voice to just barely above a whisper. “Are you planning to break into Serrac’s place to steal his car? Okay. Good. Because this gives you a really rare and excellent chance to search for the dongle.”
Hell, no. “Daria, I won’t have time. In and out.”
“Hey, this is us going on the offensive, okay? And you don’t have to toss the entire house. Something like this won’t be at the back of his underwear drawer or in a pizza box in the freezer. It’ll be in a safe. Check his office and master bedroom, closets first, then cabinets. Especially at the meeting of two outside walls. If you hustle…”
“Fine,” I said, and started walking quickly toward the intersection. She wanted hustle, she’d get it.
Besides, she was right. We needed that… gadget and we had to check his house for it at some point, so it might as well happen now.
I was still dressed as Raymond Rose and couldn't picture that dude going for a jog in chinos, but I did it anyway. I crossed the street, hurried up to the corner of Serrac's street, then turned in. The houses were still dark and the sidewalks were emptier than they'd been the first time Annalise and I invaded the neighborhood.
Which suited me. I slowed down and walked like I belonged there, ducked under the police tape, strolled up to Serrac's front door, then sliced through the front door lock with my ghost knife. I strolled in as if I'd had a key.
The lights were out, but the blinds were open. I could see well enough for what I needed to do. I could certainly see the keypad by the front door. The red light at the top was flashing, and the fake cops in some office somewhere would send a car if I didn’t enter the code.
Except I didn't know the code. I typed in the street address. The pad just squawked. Fine. My ghost knife severed the pad neatly in two, setting off a bright electric spark. I didn't know whether that would alert the fake cops or stop the alert before it was sent, and I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
Slipping the ghost knife back into my pocket, I felt the warmth of electrical shock. The laminate and tape around it were insulators, but the spell itself was had been cast on paper. It was powerful and fragile, and it needed to be treated with care.
I moved easily through the house, listening for footsteps or the startled sounds of Serrac's private security. I didn't hear anything, but then again, I wouldn't, if they were any good. Still, the air was musty. The place smelled empty.
The safe was literally in the first place Daria told me to look, the closet of Serrac’s downstairs office. My ghost knife was better than a key—faster, at least—but the inside of the safe was a disappointment. There was a fair amount of jewelry but no deeds, no folders full of work documentation, no computer anything. Not even a little thumb drive. I did find two chrome Desert Eagles—what a dork—and thirty thousand dollars in three little bundles.
The guns and jewels I left where they were. The cash went into my pocket. It was an old habit but a good one. I saw money. The money became mine. After all the shit he’d done, Serrac owed me more than this.
There were probably a lot of things in this house that would be useful to me, but I was in a hurry. I moved through the house to the garage.
The little silver SUV was still parked in there, the Mercedes GLC. I pulled the keys off a pegboard by the door and slipped the garage-door opener into my pocket. Sliding behind the wheel, I had to push the seat back. A baseball cap with the words TEN BAR sat on the dash. I pulled it low over my eyes.
Then I confirmed that my biggest gamble had paid off. Clipped to the back of the sun visor was Serrac's work ID/security pass.
The garage door was noisy as hell when I pressed the button to open it. I waited for space to drive through, feeling like a guy in a movie who was about to see a half-dozen cop cars blocking the way. But there was no one.
I stopped on the driveway almost at the curb, pressed the garage door again, confirmed that it was closing, then turned on my high beams like an asshole and pulled into the street. A Volvo sedan coming the other way had to pull to the side—the driver shielding her eyes—to let me pass, and that was just fine with me.
Daria was standing outside the restaurant, holding a pair of overfull plastic bags. Annalise stood beside her, looking impatient. The brakes chirped as I stopped and I swung open the passenger doors.
They piled in. I pulled into traffic.
From the back seat, Daria said, “Serrac has a sweet ride.”
“It’s our ride now.”
Annalise had to climb up into the passenger seat. “I don’t care about the car, Ray. I care about the gadget. And since you haven’t waved it in my face yet, I’ll assume it wasn’t there.”
“No, but…” I pulled down the visor.
Annalise saw what was there, and she sighed. “Then let’s go to his office.”
“Not yet,” I said, glancing at the rearview mirror. I was about to tell Daria to put on gloves, but she was already doing it. “Find the fastest route to Rick’s place. We’re in a hurry.”
She did. We had to drive some distance out of San Jose toward the coast, passing parched hills lit by bright moonlight. Traffic was crowded, but the only stop-and-go section was a narrow stretch of freeway as we passed through the hills. If the steering wheel had been alive, I would have strangled it to death.
But I kept my mouth shut and kept driving. Either we would reach Rick in time or we wouldn’t. From this moment on, the only thing I could do was push forward, making smart choices and hope that was good enough. That it still might not be was infuriating.
“Just around the corner and we’re here,” Daria said, although I’d already recognized the street. I turned and headed for Rick’s little ranch-style with the clay tile roof.
Another black SUV was parked out front, and a pair of men in black tactical gear rushed toward Rick’s front door. Both carried pump shotguns with pistol grips.
“Shit!” I pulled in to an open spot at the curb across the street and opened my door. Annalise was already out of the car. “Stay here,” I snapped at Daria, then ran after Annalise. The men with shotguns were not too far ahead of us, but if they were on a murder mission, it was far enough. One kicked open the door and charged inside, shouting.
Shit. I thought we had to worry about the cops.
My boss was stronger than I was, but I had longer legs. Despite her head start, I passed her as we reached the opposite curb and led the way through the broken door. From inside, I could hear men shouting On the floor! and Where’s your computer?
Not a murder mission. Or, at least, not just a murder mission.
I came through the doorway with more momentum than I needed, and only a firm grip on the doorjamb let me swing around and run at my targets. Rick was already facedown on the carpet. The two men were standing over him, and they lifted their shotguns as I barreled headlong at the nearest one.
He shot me full in the chest. Again with the fucking shotguns. It felt like a shove, but it couldn’t stop me from putting all my frustration into a forearm to his throat when I slammed into him.
Except my elbow didn’t land. He bounced off the wall, knocking me backward. He hit me one, two, three with an elbow to the jaw, knee to my balls, and shoulder stock to my ribs. As I staggered back, losing my balance, he shot me in the belly again. I landed on my back near the front door.
Something metal bounced off the coffee table and carpet. The other gunman shouted something, but my ears were ringing from the gunshots in an enclosed room and I couldn’t understand him.
Annalise threw herself to the floor, and something erupted under her. What the fuck? A grenade? The assholes had turned their faces away, so maybe it wasn’t lethal, but the thought pissed me off anyway. I scrambled to my knees just as Daria came through the door.
One of the gunmen raised his shotgun. I leaped up to shield her, but I was too slow. Some of the shot hit my chest, and some tore through my unprotected shoulder. Daria caught hold of my shirt as she fell backward, and I toppled through the doorway on top of her.
By the time I got to my knees, I had hold of her hands and was pulling her upright. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she kept saying. She was right. Blood trickled from her deltoid but not much. I’d caught more shot in my shoulder than she had.
“Goddammit,” I snapped. “I told you to wait in the car.”
“There was a driver, and he got on the phone as soon as you—”
“I don’t care.” I rushed back into Rick’s living room.
Both gunmen were dead and Annalise was standing over their bodies. They had dents in their helmets that looked like they’d been made by a pile driver. Rick was still lying facedown. The big-screen TV in the corner was showing some kind of musical, where a vaguely familiar actor was dressed as a medieval king and doing a song-and-dance number. Christ, the way people passed the time.
I pulled Rick off the floor. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and immediately dialed a number.
What the fuck was this guy doing? “Who are you calling?”
“My cousin Ethan. He’s a lawyer. Ethan, I have an emergency.”
Annalise looked like she was about to tear Rick’s arms off, so I snatched his phone from his hand. He protested, but I held up a finger and, like a good victim, he shut up.
“Ethan, Rick is in trouble. You don’t know me—and neither does Rick here—but you want to help him with his legal problems and I want to help him stay alive. Where are you?”
The voice on the other end of the phone sounded like it was underwater. “What? Who is this?”
“Someone trying to help Rick. Where are you?”
“I’m at home, of course.” When that didn’t get a response, he added, “In Sacramento.”
“Perfect. Rick’s home isn’t safe right now, so I’m sending him to you. Are you willing to take him in? You guys are tight like that?”
“What? Of course.”
“He’s going to call you from the road and explain everything.” I disconnected and put the phone in the pocket of Rick’s hoodie. “Get your wallet and keys.”
“I’m not doing what you say.” Rick backed away from me, nearly tripping over the feet of the men Annalise killed. “I saw the video. I know what you are.”
“Yeah, right,” Daria said. “It’s on the internet, so it must be true.”
I put my arm around Rick’s shoulders and steered him toward the front door. “Rick, that video was an attempt to smoke us out. You—”
He shook me off. “Why should I believe you?”
“They wanted your computer, right?” I moved toward the dead gunmen. Their tactical vests had a bunch of pockets, and I guessed which I wanted on the first try. Opening the snap, I pulled out a little thumb drive. “Guess what’s on this, Rick?”
For once, Rick had nothing to say. Daria said, “They were here to plant incriminating evidence on you, too.”
I slid the drive back into the pocket and snapped it shut. “We’ll leave that on him so the police find it there. Get your wallet.”
He did. I’d turned him, and he was taking orders now. “I don’t know why you’re doing this.”
“Talk to your cousin. Say nothing to the cops at all. Don’t let them push any kiddie-porn bullshit on you, because they’ll try. Just shut up about everything, especially us and the people who paid you for the Sienna. Every word out of your mouth is a knife they can cut you with. Get me? Go hide at your cousin’s place and shut up.”
We went into the street. The black SUV was gone, and so was the driver that Daria was worried about. Rick got into his car, a Kia Sorrento of all things, and said, “None of what they said about you is true?” He drove off without waiting for an answer.
I glanced at Rick’s driveway. Annalise’s van was gone, and so was the rusted bike.
Shit. Whoever was doing this had the boss’s ride.
But at least they’d missed the chance to plant those files on our boy Rick and let the cops connect him to us.
Sirens grew louder. “Time to go.” I got behind the wheel again and drove us out of there fast enough that we didn’t even see a flash of a cop’s light bar.
Without prompting, Daria called out the address for Ten Bar. I turned back toward the hills, driving back to the darkness between them.
It was time to get this gadget. It was time to hit them for a change.