The Drafter

“Sorry,” he said, expression blank as he turned to go into the open kitchen.

Brow furrowed, she straightened the commemorative coffee table book of Princess Diana’s royal wedding. The sucking sound of the freezer opening turned her around, and her lips parted when he took out a box of Thin Mints.

“God bless it, will you get out of my stuff!” she exclaimed, and Silas spun, eyes wide.

Taf made a long “Oooo, you’re in trouble …,” laughing when Howard shushed her.

“You’ve got like six boxes in there,” Silas said indignantly, and Howard gave Taf a nudge to be quiet when she opened her mouth again.

“Fine, go ahead.” Peri stomped back to the kitchen table. “But put them on a plate so we can all eat them.”

“Sure, Peri,” he said reasonably, but she was still peeved. Her unfinished scarf was stretched out over the table, and she studied the irregular bands of red, orange, and gold, trying to figure out what she’d been trying to do so she could finish it off. Knitting was supposed to be relaxing, but not with Silas bumping about in her kitchen.

“Ah, why do you have comic books in your wine fridge?” he asked.

Jaw tight, she ignored him. “Be careful with those,” she said when he reached for a blue glass plate, and his motions became exaggerated as he shook the frozen Girl Scout cookies onto it and set it down precisely between them. “They’re antique,” she added, not knowing for sure.

“You know what? I need another circuit to finish this,” Howard said suddenly as he stood and stretched. “You want to come with me before they close, Taf?”

“What, now?” Taf appreciatively eyed Howard’s stretched body. “This is just getting good. What are we making, anyway?”

“Bug detector,” he said as he collapsed in on himself. “A-a-a-and … it works,” he added as he picked it up and waved it over Taf and a light on it glowed.

“I am not bugged,” the woman said indignantly, but Silas, who had sat down across from Peri at the kitchen table with his paper newspaper, had taken an interest, too.

“She’s clean,” Howard said as Taf smacked his thigh and eased up to sit on the couch. “It lights up at any outgoing ping, like from a cell phone.”

“I know I’m clean. Gawwd!” Taf drawled as Howard beamed over three squares of plastic he had been working on.

“A quick tweak to the GPS on my phone, and we’ll have traceable bugs,” he added as he set it clattering on the table. “If we can get one of these on Allen, we’d know when he comes within half a mile. Or we can drop them like bread crumbs to find our way back somewhere or to each other if we get separated.”

Fingers smoothing the yarn, Peri said, “If this vet thing doesn’t work out, you could always open an Electronics Hut.”

Howard chuckled as he put his coat on. “Sure. Taf, you can make coffee, right? I could use you and your dozen almost-minors for security. You’re amazing with a rifle.”

“Thank you, Howard. You say the sweetest things!” Taf purred, bounding up to give him a little peck on the cheek.

Silas sighed, rattling his paper as Howard blushed, his dark skin taking on a pinkish hue.

“Speaking of shooting people, I need to pick up some more shells.” Taf reached for her coat. “Do we have time to stop?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Ah … you aren’t carrying a gun tonight,” Peri started when Taf picked up her purse.

“Excuse me, boys and girls?” Silas said, paper flat against the table. Suddenly Peri felt like they were the parents of two hooligans eager for a night of chaos and gunpowder.

“We’ll bring back pizza,” Howard said as he pushed Taf to the door.

“I’m sick of pizza,” Taf complained. “I want Cantonese.”

“Fine. Whatever,” he said. “Let’s get out of here before they think of a reason for us not to go.” And then the door shut and Taf’s voice filled the stairway as they creaked downstairs.

Peri glanced at Silas, pretty sure Howard and Taf hadn’t left for circuits and shells. They hadn’t even set up an alternate meeting place in case of trouble. She wasn’t used to working with more than one person, and she was making mistakes. “I don’t like them out on their own,” she said, to fill the new silence.

“Me either.” Silas shook his paper again. He’d taken time to shave and shower in the tiny bathroom while she and Taf had been shopping, and his thick short hair was sticking straight up, an unruly, charming mess without product. Peri couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like on her fingertips. Silk, maybe.

Sensation plinked through her, and, disconcerted, she put her attention firmly on her yarn. “This isn’t going to be easy,” she muttered. “Opti is already at my apartment. I’m going to have to fight my way in, or out, or both. We should have left them in Kentucky.”

“But you don’t mind me coming,” he said flatly from behind his paper.

“Actually, I do, but I need an anchor,” she said. “I’ll keep you alive. Promise.”

“Maybe I don’t want that assurance.”

Peri squinted at the paper between them. “It comes with the job. Deal with it.” She was starting to figure this out. Someone he’d loved had died to save him. Not my business, she thought as she laid the scarf out and tried to find a pattern in the stripes, but a growing ire at Silas was percolating through her. “I need you, Silas, but you’re not a piece of firmware.”