Chapter Seventeen
There’s no such thing as a coincidence, I remind myself, but then everything about the past day has tried ridiculously hard to challenge that premise.
And Jay did have a point. When bad people follow me around like soldiers, the timing is always now.
Setting timing aside, there’s no way the Junior I’ve come to know, the Junior who wrote me the prior notes, wrote this.
It’s not the same tone. It doesn’t fit. Unless…
Junior was hiding behind the fluff and stupidity.
I dial Tic Tac who answers on the first ring.
“Secure my job, and I’ll stay,” he says.
“I talked to Lucas and we’re going to room together. ”
“Okay that’s not a good idea and trouble in so many ways we’ll talk about later.
Sarabeth’s, a restaurant here in the city.
Check the front and rear cameras for who came and went in the last thirty minutes.
” I hesitate. Only Kane and Andrew know I killed Roger.
To the rest of the world, Tic Tac included, he’s still missing and on the run, therefore what I’m about to say won’t sound crazy to him. “Check for Roger, Tic Tac.”
I can almost hear his jaw drop to the ground. “You think Roger is back?”
“No,” I say. “I don’t.” And even as I say those words a theory opens up in my mind. “I think someone who knows Roger is fucking with me, but we need to cover all possibilities.”
“Copy that. I’m looking for anyone, male or female, who looks suspicious.” His fingers are pounding on the keyboard.
He’s not going to find anything. I feel that in my gut.
“Call me,” I say and hang up. I don’t look at the note again.
I stuff it in my jacket pocket and walk back into the restaurant.
When I round the corner, I do a doubletake when I find Jack sitting at the table.
How did he get here? The timing is off, but I’ve already gotten to a point of trust with Jack.
Haven’t I? There are no coincidences, but right now everything feels like a coincidence.
Our waitress steps to my side. “We got him a chair, but there’s no place for him to eat.”
“We aren’t staying anyway. Close out our tab with the card my brother gave you,” I say and when she would walk away, I add, “Did you see anyone in the hallway outside the bathroom?” I lift my badge.
“No. Should I ask the staff?”
“Yes.” I reach in the pouch behind my badge and offer her my card. “Ask them now.”
“Of course.” She glances at the card. “Agent Love-Mendez.”
My brother is now on his feet and walking my direction. “What’s going on?”
“Altercation by the bathroom. Why is Jack here?”
“No idea. I thought you invited him to torture me with an even smaller space.”
“There is no space large enough for Jack’s mouth.”
“No kidding,” he mutters, as I pull ahead of him and walk toward the table.
The minute I step to the rear of what was Andrew’s chair, Jack pushes to his feet.
He points to a seat in the corner which would place him right beside me.
“I can fit right there and I don’t need to eat. ” He moves and claims his new spot.
Jack is tall and lanky with glasses, his dark hair perpetually slicked back but today there’s a tight half-moon slice laying across his forehead, that is as weird as I suspect intentional.
And I swear the man was born in khaki and a collared shirt.
He’s a pain in my ass but inquisitive and book smart in ways that prove useful, when he’s not fucking things up.
Or showing up where he’s not inviting at odd times that make me question if he’s crazy like the killers in the horror movies he obsesses over. “Why are you here, Jack?”
“I dream of working for you.”
“‘Dream City’ is closed right now.” The waitress appears by my side. “No one’s seen anything strange. We do have cameras. I can pull that footage.”
“Yes. I’ll take it. Send it to the email on my card, sooner than later.”
“As soon as we get past the rush hour, we’ll get it over.”
“Thank you. And if you have any street footage, I need that, too.”
“I’ll tell the manager. She’s dealing with a kitchen crisis, or she’d have come out, but she told me to give you her card.” She lowers her voice and whispers, “The chef can be a bear when stressed so she’s trying to keep the staff from quitting.”
“Tell her not to let me stress her out.” I accept the offering and stick it in the pouch with my own cards. “And on that note, a little chocolate comfort is in order. Can I get hot chocolate with extra whip for everyone at the table in to-go cups, please? Then we’ll get out of your hair.”
She grins. “You’re so nice for an FBI agent. Coming up. Do you want them added to your tab?”
I’m so nice. I almost snort. I can’t wait to tell Andrew how nice I am. “Of course. What’s a good sister if she doesn’t run up her brother’s credit card bill?”
She laughs and says, “A very bad sister indeed.” And then she’s gone.
“What’s going on?” Andrew asks, and we’re in such a tiny space we have no choice but to sit. I claim my seat, which is way too up close and personal with Jack, and Andrew does the same beside me.
“What’s going on is Andrew bought us all hot chocolate for the road.” I eye Jack. “Even you.”
Everyone is staring at me. “What’s going on, Lilah?” Andrew bites out.
My cellphone rings and I retrieve it from my pocket to find Adams on my caller ID, a ping in my belly, as I realize never again will Murphy be the one bugging the shit out of me. It’s Adams. And Ellis. I show my caller ID to the table and answer. “Mr. FBI himself.”
“You need to go to the governor’s mansion. Now.”
My gaze lifts to Andrew’s as I say, “Why do I need to go to the governor’s mansion?”
Andrew’s phone rings and he picks it up from the table and shows me the caller ID. It’s our father. He motions to the door and pushes to his feet, walking that direction.
“Your profiling and investigative skills are needed,” he replies. “Your father is asking for you personally. I get why your father called me, considering the high-profile situation, but I don’t get why he didn’t call you direct.”
He’s not but I am. No way would my father call me for help. “What is the situation? Let me guess. You can’t say on the phone.”
“You’re smarter than the average cat, agent.”
“That was a horrible, horrible old joke.”
“I am old. Or I feel old. I’m aging in dog years with this job already.”
I don’t care how old he feels. I don’t want to bond with him.
And some part of me knows that’s because I might have liked Murphy as much as I hated him.
I don’t want him to be the guy who killed my mother, but that’s a whole Pandora’s Box I don’t need to touch.
“I’ll head that direction,” I say. “I have an unintentional entourage. Jack—”
“The forensics guy who helped you before?”
“Right. Jay and my brother as well.” Both of whom he also knows.
“Copy that. Your father’s hand hurts and it’s not helping him cope with this situation well. He’s losing his shit, Special Agent Love-Mendez.”
“I’ll handle him.” I disconnect and dial Tic Tac.
“I didn’t find anything. Whoever I’m looking for must know where the cameras are.”
“Hold on that. Find out what is going on now, and in recent past, at the governor’s mansion before I get there. I’m meeting Adams there. And apparently my father.”
“Holy wow, Batman. What the heck?”
“Exactly.” I hang up and by the time I’m on my feet, Jay and Jack are, too. Jeez. How do I have Jay and Jack and Kane and Kit? They’re trying to kill me with word puzzles and a word puzzle to me brings out the angry bitch in me, way more than everyday life.
“I’m going,” Jacks says excitedly. “I heard that. I’m going.”
“If you don’t have a question don’t waste air,” I say, and eye Jay, who says, “Assistant?”
“You’re not my bodyguard. You want a job, get used to the title, but with Jay and Jack at my side, be prepared to become an assumed couple.” I grab my field bag and head for the door.
Andrew is waiting on me. “What the heck is this?”
“Most likely someone isn’t happy he was elected. I’m sure not.” Jay and Jack join us and two waitresses rush out to hand us all hot cocoa.
I sip the hot sweet beverage and decide it might be a shitty day likely filled with nasty notes and my nasty father, but at least when it’s over, I will be able to say there was chocolate.