“Really? I had no idea.”

“We were just talking about that fact yesterday.”

“Were we? What does he know?”

“You’re really not going to tell me.”

“I’m really not. But it was great to see you,” I said, bouncing off to be pelted by icy wet sleet.

“That you’ve been hired,” he called out to me. “But he doesn’t know by whom. Kind of like me. Your favorite uncle.”

“My only uncle,” I called over my shivering shoulder.

“The one who saved your life and gave up everything for you.”

Okay, the saving-my-life thing, I could see, but … “Everything?”

“Well, a lot.”

He had me there. “And I’m totally grateful.” I stopped and turned back to him. “More than you will ever know or understand, Uncle Bob. You’re the only family I have left.”

“What about Gemma?”

“You and Gemma are the only family I have left. You have done so much for me.”

“I have. I really have,” he said above the sound of the sleet firing little cannons of razor-sharp glass. “You could repay me by telling me—”

Before he could finish that thought, I ran back to him and threw my arms around him. Or, well, one arm. The other was holding a plastic bag with all the copied files and my nigh-frozen coffee. Wade’s assistant had put the files in the bag, not wanting all her hard work to go to waste.

He wrapped large arms around me and hugged back.

“I love you so much.” After I said it, I couldn’t remember another time when I told him that. Surely I had, because it was true. I loved him.

“Hey, what’s this? You okay, pumpkin?”

“Yes.” I stepped back. “It’s just, you’ve done so much for me, and all I seem to be capable of doing in return is almost getting you killed and/or fired.”

“Well, then. It’s a good thing I love you, too.”

I gave him another hug, refused to tell him who hired me when he asked for the third time, then hurried to Misery before I became a coffee-flavored Popsicle. The weather wasn’t totally unusual for Albuquerque, but I was suddenly glad it never lasted long.

After I’d climbed inside, I took another look at something I thought I’d seen through the sleet. Garrett’s truck was parked down the street, and I almost came unglued until I realized I hadn’t seen him all day until now. Maybe he wasn’t tailing me, but then who?

I turned back and watched Uncle Bob through the glass door. He was talking to Wade, laughing about who knew what. Was he following Ubie? Why on earth would he follow Ubie? Weren’t they on the same side?

* * *

Having yet to check on Heather and Pari other than the occasional text in which Pari would ask things like, Is eating only beef jerky for 24 hours straight harmful? and Quick! What continent has the fewest flowering plants? Don’t blow my lead!

Was she kidding?

I snuck in through the back door of Pari’s place and called out.

“We’re in here!”

“Where?” I walked through the maze that was her shop until I was standing in the tattoo room where she did tats, and almost passed out when I saw Heather in Pari’s chair, her arm covered from shoulder to wrist in a full sleeve.

“What do you think?” Pari asked.

She slipped on her shades while Heather held up her arm for my inspection. “It didn’t even hurt that bad.”

I covered my mouth with both hands. This was it. I was going to prison.

Heather cracked first. Laughter bubbled out of her a half second before it bubbled out of Pari as well.

“Told you,” Pari said. “So gullible.”

I rushed forward to inspect her arm. The artwork was gorgeous. But underneath there was no swelling, no bleeding, no signs of trauma at all. Temporary.

I almost passed out again, this time in relief. After giving Heather a quick hug—and hoping we were at the hugging stage or that was just really awkward for her—I offered Pari the same treatment.

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said.

“Oh, please. This kid is an angel. And, dude, she seriously likes beef jerky.”

Heather pointed to a series of shelves. “We organized all her paints, and Pari is teaching me to draw.” She reached over to grab a sketchbook and opened it to the first page.

“Wow,” I said, completely impressed. It was the beginnings of a dragon, and though the scale was a little off, for the most part it was fantastic. “You, Heather Huckabee, are going to be a star,” I said to her. “I’ve done some drawing. I drew a duck once. It was a great duck except that it was supposed to be an eagle.”