The Operator

Page 110

LB stood as well, his head bowed. “Thank you for showing me I’m not crazy.”

A smile spilled over her. Maybe she’d done one thing right. “We are, you know. Crazy?”

He chuckled, his hand falling to her shoulder as he escorted her to the open archway door and the night beyond. “I can get you off it, Reed, but not at once. Call me when you’re ready.”

She took a breath to tell him he hadn’t given her his number, spinning to look behind her when Silas’s muffled voice called her name with equal amounts of panic and anger. “Shit. He’s up.”

“Here.” LB pushed a hanging curtain of beads aside. A rough-hewn opening lay beyond, the light failing after only a few feet. “It goes to the surface, but it’s too tight for Lorenzo, so we never use it.”

“Lorenzo?” she questioned as she slipped past him, her bag pressed against her.

“Fat Man,” he said, digging into his pocket and handing her a wad of bills and a rail pass. “Be careful. They haven’t found Jack yet.” And then he was gone, the curtain swinging slowly to settle between them.

“Peri?” Silas called, and she shrank back, afraid to move in the dark. “Peri?” he called again, and then he swore softly. “She’s gone, isn’t she,” he said, anger thick in his voice. “And you let her walk out of here?”

“Yep.” The broken shadow of LB sat down in front of the TV with his beer. “I didn’t get to be king of this rodeo by being stupid.”

“Damn it, she shouldn’t be alone!” Silas exclaimed, and Peri froze. “Where are my shoes? Where are my blasted shoes? Did she hide them again?”

Again? she wondered, seeing a glimpse of their shared past.

“Slow down, Tex,” LB said as he clicked through the channels to settle on a nineties sitcom. “She has itchy feet is all, and an hour’s head start. She’s only got a day’s worth of Evocane, and she went looking for Jack. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

He lied for me? Peri thought, not liking how easy and convincingly it had come out of him.

“God bless it.” His hands in fists, Silas stared at the ceiling. He exhaled, abruptly losing his anger and collapsing on the couch beside LB, his head cradled in his hands. “I can’t believe I fell asleep,” he whispered, his gaze haunted as he lifted his head. “She took the accelerator with her. Don’t lie to me, Leon. I’m a psychologist. How much Evocane does she have?”

His real name is Leon?

LB sighed. “All five days,” he admitted, and Silas groaned. “Enough to take care of Bill. She’ll be back.”

Silas bowed his head, his fingertips pressing into his forehead hard. “If she remembers me,” he whispered.

Breath held, she carefully turned and headed for the surface. She’d be back, she vowed.

If I remember him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The screwdriver slipped from the panel’s cover, gouging the fatty part of Peri’s thumb. Hissing, she sucked on it, fighting the urge to throw the tool into the predawn dark as she crouched beside the security panel behind her coffeehouse. It didn’t help that she’d snuffed the safety light with a well-placed rock. It also didn’t help that her coffeehouse had originally been a satellite cop shop with thick walls, bullet-resistant windows, and a built-in security system like few others. She’d already disabled the alarm, but getting through the magnetic lock was proving difficult.

She needed money, her secondary ID, a vehicle, and the peace of mind a few armaments would provide. Her coffee shop held all that. Her key, long gone, was not the only way in. If she could get the panel open, she could hard-code her password in.

Squinting at her hand, she rubbed the blood away and wedged the screwdriver under the panel again. Jack usually did this, she thought out of nowhere, then quashed it.

“This is a first for me” came out of the dark, and she spun, rising to her feet, screwdriver held to gouge as she scanned the tiny private parking lot.

“Cam?” she questioned incredulously, recognizing his silhouette in the thin street light. “What are you doing here?”

“Breaking my rule about not chasing a woman.” He picked his way closer between the frozen rocks and weeds, his breath steaming. “Lose your key?”

Flustered, she shifted the angle of the screwdriver to something less agressive. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said faintly. Hands in the pockets of his short leather jacket, he halted on the small cement pad. His attitude shifted from a sour acceptance to a questioning scrutiny. “Are you okay?”

Peri licked her lips, feeling self-conscious in her tight black jeans and soft boots. She looked like a thief, but it was her store. “Seriously. Why are you here?”

Cam looked at the shop as if able to see the street beyond. “Your place is on my way to work. I saw the security light was out, and for some stupid reason, I felt responsible.”

Slumping, Peri turned back to the panel. “It’s five in the morning. You go to work at five in the morning?”

“I get more work done when I’m alone.”

“Me too,” she muttered, and the screwdriver slipped again.

Cam shifted from foot to foot, his expensive dress shoes looking wrong in the dirt and weeds. “So . . . you’re back?”

The hint of ulterior interest in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, and Peri glanced up. “No,” she said carefully. “I’m here to pick up a few things is all.” Cam’s brow furrowed, and blowing the hair out of her eyes, she added, “Thank you for watching my cat. He means the world to me.”

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