The converted office I'm using as a hiding space is unfamiliar, and the computer I'm using is barely better than what I could have gotten if I'd just gone down to an electronics shop, but it was all Darcy had available to give me quickly, and for a laptop, it works okay.

“So he's on board now?” I ask, and on the screen, Darcy nods. In the background, Bo is wagging his tail and setting his chin on her shoulder, she's let him up on the couch.

“He is. He made me promise not to wide band the direct stuff on his father until tomorrow, but Samuel... the Miami-Dade cops and FBI are going to be getting the stuff in about ten minutes.”

I nod, and rub at the back of my head, where the shaved patch on the back of my skull still itches. Darcy laughs, and I have to chuckle, too. “I don't know why it bothers me, it's just hair. It'll grow out.”

“Well, next time you decide to fake getting your brains blown out, maybe remember to fall on the grass and not the sidewalk?” Darcy teases. “Besides, it's been a few weeks. I bet in another month nobody's going to be able to tell the difference, not with as short as you keep your 'do.”

I smile and nod. “You're right. So Jackson is going to talk to Peter?”

“He's not going to do anything stupid, I made sure of that. He knows that Andrea's on his side, and Nathan's going to make sure, too. Remember, Jackson still thinks he needs to walk on eggshells to even get close to Peter, so he won't have a gun or do anything stupid like that. I think he's going to just tell him off, maybe try to hurt him mentally, but I just don’t see that having any effect.”

I nod, reassured. “That's good. And he believes that you just tracked my computer this whole time?”

“Yeah. I hope you decide to tell him the whole truth someday soon.”

“Me too. Okay. I'll confirm his actions with Andrea, he can't let himself get hurt.”

“We'll do what we can. Listen Katrina, I don't want to doubt you, but are you sure this is the right way to go about it? I mean, he seems pretty much on our side.”

I think about it for a second, while meanwhile on her end Bo licks her on the ear, causing Darcy to laugh and push her dog away, sending him off the couch and into the backyard. “I see you like getting ear kisses, too,” I joke.

“Not from him, the big baby,” Darcy laughs, then raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“You and that dog, both of you never let go of something once you sink your teeth into it,” I grumble, then nod. “I know it hurts, but I had to be sure, Darcy. I had to know we could take them down, even if Jackson backed out. And the plan's too far advanced now to change it.”

“Well, you've broke that boy's heart,” Darcy continues, and I wince. Still, I deserve it. “When Andrea called me up telling me what he's been up to the past few weeks, I nearly broke with the plan early. He was about to put himself in the damn hospital he's so broken up.”

“I know, Darcy. I know. I regret it, but things are moving now. When the dam breaks, and the cops have both Samuel and Peter... I'll talk to him. I've already made arrangements with Nathan.”

“And afterward?” Darcy asks, and I know what she means. Once the information hits the media, in addition to taking down the DeLaCoeur empire, there's going to be a lot of other people looking for blood. New Orleans isn't going to be safe for me anymore, even as a ghost. Too many ghosts get exorcised in New Orleans, and voodoo only works so well.

“Afterward, maybe Katrina Grammercy needs to go away,” I say quietly. “But I'm pretty sure Coup De Grace will still be hanging around online.”

Darcy nods, and I see a tear come to her eye. She wipes it away, and forces a smile. “I can live with that. It'll be good to see you out there. It'll be good to know... to know you do have a future.”

“With luck, we'll all have futures,” I reply. “I love you, Darcy.”

“I love you too, Katrina. Take care, Baby Girl.”

She hangs up, and I can feel in my heart the meaning behind Darcy's farewell. We know the truth, that she won't be able to go with me, and that the next time we see each other may be the last. If there is a next time.

I sit back, waiting the few minutes before turning on the Miami local stations. I'm tapped into the satellite feed each station has with their national desks, and I see that it's the Fox affiliate who gets the feed up first.

“Breaking news from our crime desk. The FBI and Miami-Dade police have found within our city a man who, for the past ten years, everyone thought was dead. Fox's Billie Wagner is on the scene with more.”

The scene cuts from the studio to a news van outside the apartment complex where my parents live. The on-site reporter, a kind of young guy maybe a few years older than me, looks like he's halfway scared out of his mind, probably because until this point he's only done human interest stories, kissed puppies, and played with children for the morning show. Billie just strikes me as that sort of guy.

“Yes guys, I'm outside this apartment just south of the University, where an amazing story has come to light. It seems that this man...” the screen cuts to an ID photo of my father, “who for the past ten years has lived and worked in the Miami area under the name Michael Ball, is in fact not who he seems to be.”

It continues, but I've seen enough. I turn off the feed and pull out my phone. Tapping quickly, I send a text to Nathan.

Has Jackson come home yet?

No, but I think he'll be here soon, maybe within a half hour. I've prepared the way as best I can. Why?

It just went down in Miami. He doesn't have a lot of time before Peter knows something's up.

I understand. I'll inform him, make it seem like I got a call. He'll let the gates open here.

Thanks. Take care of him, Nathan. And deliver my message.

I will. Thank you for your mercy.

You have more accounts to balance than just ours. Consider it a gift if Jackson comes out safe. If he doesn't...

I understand. I'll text you when it's done.

I hang up the messages with Nathan and sit back. There's nothing I can do now, except hope that whatever powers have watched over me the past ten years can watch over Jackson now.

Another idea comes to mind, and I make another call, this one to Andrea.

“Hello?”

“It's me. I know voice communication is dangerous, but I don't have a lot of time. It just went down in Miami, and I have one more idea I just had. This one... this one's for Jackson.”

Andrea sounds suspicious, but hums. “What do you need?”

“I want to get every cent I can from Peter DeLaCoeur. For Jackson. Can you help me?”

Andrea laughs, and I realize she and I have had similar mindsets all along. “You're a little late. I've already been doing it. Give me fifteen minutes and you'll have the number and passcode to a numbered account in the Bahamas. It's one of his smaller ones, but it's all I've been able to verify.”

I smile, thinking about just how generous Andrea's being. “And you?”

“I've got my own plans in place. I don't think we'll be seeing each other again. It was nice to spend some time together, my friend.”

I hum, thinking that I regret not taking the time to get to know her better. She's a remarkable young woman, but she has her own mission to complete. “I hope that someday, maybe after you've found your own completion... I hope we can see each other again.”

“That'd be nice, but we'll see. I'll keep in touch with you electronically at least. Take care, Katrina.”

“You too, Andrea.”

So the die is cast. I just have to wait, and see how it finally falls.