“This?” Emerson asks, tipping his tablet to show me.
“That’s it!”
“There were three listings, and they each used euphemisms like ‘legacy medallions’ and ‘heirloom coins of European persuasion.’” Emerson side-eyes me. “Which I flagged for suspicious language, and you flagged…with fourteen exclamation marks.”
“That’s how I process concern. With punctuation.”
Jace rubs his jaw. “So we’ve got stealth thefts, mystery purchases, and a buyer list we can’t trace.”
“Correct,” Emerson says. “So I’ve been tracing shell companies that have moved jurisdictions recently on the off chance one might be connected.”
I bring up my list. “Three companies pinged this week alone. All recently changed locations. One moved from Florence, Italy, to Alexandria, Virginia. I’m keeping an eye on it.”
Emerson smiles. “Which is code for: she’s already started three background checks and created a shared folder titled ‘sketchy and suspicious.’”
“Technically, it’s called ‘Sketch-a-saurus.’”
“Oh hey,” Ledger says, “speaking of suspicious activity. Anything happening between you and your neighbor yet?”
“Okay, that has nothing to do with high-value targets.” Unless we’re talking personal high-value targets that I am finding myself setting my sights on.
Emerson raises an eyebrow. “Yet you’ve still managed to casually bring up Owen four times in this meeting, even when we’re talking about the theft of relics.”
I have? And here I thought I was doing really well. I swear I’ve gone at least five minutes since relating something to him. “Alright, then. Has anything been happening between us? Just coexisting in a drywall-free zone and swapping notes through a plastic flap. You know, neighborly stuff.” I’m not lying. I’m just leaving out the part about what it’s doing to the butterflies flapping around in me.
Jace leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “From what I saw when we did that very professional, not-at-all intrusive stakeout of him at his job site right after he moved in, it seems like things could turn from ‘neighborly’ to ‘unintentionally married’ real fast.”
I laugh. “Okay, I will keep an eye out for accidental vows.”
Our meeting takes hours. But by the time we’re done, we’ve divvied up the biggest redflags: Ledger will pose as event security for a museum gala in Paris that’s a perfect fit for the recent theft pattern. Miles will head to an archaeological dig site where equipment has been tampered with. And Jace is heading to Prague to meet a whistleblower who claims someone’s paying off customs agents. I’ve got a dozen surveillance feeds to set up, some backgrounds to falsify, and some creative firewall cracking in my future.
I do still manage to take off during lunch and pick up the items I need for Owen’s little gift and to print out the tags. But the day is long. I end up having to eat dinner at work, and it’s nearly bedtime when I finally pull back into my driveway.
When I get inside, I empty onto my coffee table the bag of everything I got to make a “Flood Survival Kit” for Owen, including a plastic container with a latching lid to put it all in. Reese helps me attach the tags to each of the items. I got him an ultra-collapsible umbrella, “For unexpected indoor precipitation,” a pack of waterproof bandages, “For emotional wounds caused by sudden plumbing betrayal,” a rubber duck, “For morale,” a toy boat, “In case evacuation is needed,” comfy socks, “To keep your toes dry,” and a badge-type pin that I got at one of those make-your-own places that says, “Official member of theNo Wall, No Problem Club.”
We have a hard time not giggling loudly enoughthat Owen might hear us the whole time we’re tagging them and placing them into the kit.
As I’m taking it over to our little flimsy door, Reese whispers, “Do you think he’ll see it tonight?”
I shake my head. “I’m sure he went to bed an hour ago.”
I pull a little flap of the plastic aside and slide the container onto his floor, and then I head upstairs to bed and set my alarm for a bit earlier than normal, just to make sure I’m awake when he finds it.
CHAPTER 8
RACE YOU TO CLARITY
OWEN
Idrop my keys on the side table by my door and run my hands over my face as I head to my room to change into pajama pants and a t-shirt after an extremely long day. Once my crew left for the day, I stayed to try to fix a big mistake. When I order building materials, I try to keep the delicate balance between having everything when we’ll need it with not having more than what our limited storage space can hold. Today, I discovered that I messed up, and no matter how many ways I tried to rearrange things, it just wouldn’t work.
I head into my living room/kitchen area and look toward the plastic sheeting separating my townhome from Charlie’s. She must’ve worked late yesterday or gone somewhere right after work, because I didn’t seeher fuzzy silhouette over there all day. It surprised me how much I missed seeing her.
As frustrated and as bummed as I am right now, I still smile, though, just thinking about the package I found by my plastic door this morning. Every item in it made me laugh. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share a makeshift wall with.
Everything is dark on Charlie’s side of the wall, so I must’ve missed her today, too. I go over to where theFlood Survival Kitis sitting on my one section of counter, pull out the pair of socks, and put them on. I like that they make me feel like I got a little of her tonight.
Why do I like it? I have to admit that it’s because I like her.You have to move once you finish The Shadowridge, I remind myself.You signed a contract. So, stop liking her as more than a neighbor.
