CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

The cracked lime-green vinyl seats of the Pinto, which was currently parked outside a fuel station, smelled like crayons. Peri’s lip curled as she tried to decide whether she wanted to touch the vent to angle the warm air from the running engine to her, or just live with the damp chill that gripped Detroit despite the afternoon sun. Jack’s sigh was heavy from the cramped back, and her eyes shifted from the refueling station’s twin glass doors to him. He’d wanted to jack a BMW using her phone and an app that connected him to the owner’s security company, but she’d nixed it, wanting the less obtrusive, no-computer Pinto instead—even if it was a POS.

Silas was inside, changing her Harley fund into p-cash connected to a new, neutral phone. She’d pulled into the upscale hydrogen station under the excuse that there would be little traffic, but the reality was that she’d wanted to get a closer look at the new Jaguar parked under the refueling kiosk, the pack panel open as the black expended cylinders were exchanged for shiny new white ones.

It hadn’t taken her long to realize how badly she’d chosen when the government drones began to drop in and take off from the quick charge on the roof. Apparently Detroit had given the Feds a place to recharge their surveillance drones in exchange for subsidizing the expensive hydrogen stations, technology still so new that stations couldn’t survive on their own. She was making mistakes, either from fatigue or worry, and she didn’t like it.

A woman with two kids came out of the associated convenience store, squinting at the sudden light and cold. Fumbling for their hands, she headed for the nearby rail stop. The wind gusted, billowing her coat and drawing Peri’s attention to the nearby fallow green space where last year’s faded banners flapped, put there to discourage the local deer population that made their home amid the skyscrapers and light commerce. A new species was evolving, smaller, less sensitive to noise and dogs, and having the occasional white coat. They kept the environment students at Detroit University busy charting their slow, steady domestication.

A whining hiss gave her warning, and Peri lowered her head as another drone dropped in.

“He’s taking too long,” Jack said, and her thoughts went to the smut stick she’d found at her apartment. Adding a little facial-recognition deterrent would only get her noticed, though.

“I’ll go in and see if he needs some help,” Jack added.

Peri smoothly slipped Silas’s Glock from the satchel and angled it toward him, the flat finish glinting dully in the sun. “Stay in the car.”

Eyebrows high in challenge, he reached for the door, never dropping her gaze.

“Please, continue. It will make my life so much easier,” she said, smiling painfully. She wanted a memory that would only hurt her. Had she and Jack really been squirreling money to buy bikes? Her bank account had once held more than enough. The money behind the frame had been a promise, not a gathering of funds.

Jack hesitated, then eased back into the seat. “You are such a bitch when you don’t get your sleep,” he said, and satisfied, Peri tucked the Glock away as two late teens got into the Jag and drove off. They were laughing at her Pinto, and Peri scowled. She didn’t do anything without a reason—even if she didn’t know what it was, exactly.

Her phone, on the dash in case Silas called, lit up. She scrambled for it, her adrenaline falling when she saw it was Cam. “I’m taking this,” she said, thoughts shifting to her cat. “Keep your mouth shut.”

“I would’ve brought you back your favorite candy bar,” Jack grumped, falling into an untidy mess in the back.

“You don’t know my favorite candy bar,” she muttered, hitting the accept key. But the truth was, she didn’t know what it was, either; her memory of it being a Three Musketeers bar when she had been ten was probably out-of-date. “Hi, Cam. Everything okay?”

“Peri!” Cam’s voice was warm and concerned, making her feel guilty. She’d forgotten all about him. “I half expected your voicemail. I was calling to ask you the same thing.”

Jack opened his mouth, and she jiggled her grip on the phone so she could aim the Glock at him. Grimacing, he changed his mind. The shot would be awkward with one hand, but at this range, even a miss would hurt. “Could be better,” she said. Hurry up, Silas. “How’s Carnac?”

“Fine. Do you have a better idea of when you’ll be picking him up?”

She could hear the soft patter of a news program and the whirr of a can opener. He was working from home, then. “Uh, no. Sorry.” Jack was laughing at her, and her face flamed. “Hey, this actually isn’t a good time,” she said when Jack draped his arm over the back of the seat so he could hear better.

“You’ve got a strange man cat sitting for us?” Jack asked loudly.

“There is no us,” she whispered harshly, phone to her shoulder to block her voice. Then to Cam, “Can I call you back?”

“Sure, no problem.” He sounded embarrassed. “You are coming back. Right?”

Peri half turned away to hide her flush from Jack. “Right.” But even as she said it, she knew she was never going to return to the coffeehouse again—apart from clearing out the weapon’s stash, maybe. The peace she’d found there was gone. Bill had stolen it, and she had let him.

“You’re not coming back,” Cam said flatly, and Jack, hearing everything, smiled cattily.

“Cam,” she pleaded, hating Jack for seeing this. “I want to.”

“No, I got it,” Cam said, his tone almost hiding the hurt. “Don’t worry about Carnac. He’s a good cat. I’ll take care of him.”

“Cam— Hey!” she exclaimed when Jack yanked the phone from her.

“God, Cam,” Jack said, laughing as he fended her off. “Give the woman a break. She’s got a lot on her mind right now.”

“Knock it off!” Smacking Jack smartly, she got the phone and settled into the front seat. “Cam?” But he was gone, and she hit the end icon in disgust. “Did he hear you?”

Still smiling, Jack shrugged. “He sounds as if he’s got money. Is he nice?”

Her head was pounding, and she glanced at the convenience store and the flickering e-board ads as she considered calling him back. But what would be the point? “Let’s play the quiet game, okay?” she said as she put her phone away.