TWENTY-THREE
As soon as we reached Sloan’s room I flopped immediately on her deep, comfy chair in the corner. It had been quite a day, between the park confrontation about a fake kidnapping, a real kidnapping, and an unproductive intel meeting. And I wanted nothing more than to go to bed for the next week.
But our job was not done, no matter what Christopher had instructed us.
“So what in the world do we do now?” I said, trying to keep the despair out of my voice. “That’s great we’re not being forced to help with the ransom. But do we really just sit back and let them do it?”
“Honestly, we probably should, you ask me.” Sloan sank onto the end of her bed. “He asked for it when he started it.”
I shot Sloan a panicked look.
“But relax,” she continued with a sigh. “You want to save him, we’ll do whatever we can.” Her voice did not exactly impart enthusiasm for the prospect.
I shrank back into the cushions. “Which is what, though? We didn’t exactly hit a goldmine of information with Christopher there. How can we possibly take on these guys, without a single lead?”
Sloan chuckled softly to herself. My head shot up, senses suddenly on high alert. “What?”
“Nothing, just amused.” She gazed back with a tired smile. “You thought the point of meeting with Christopher was to give him a little ‘how dare you’ speech?”
I tried to cover my surprise with a disinterested shrug. “And see if we can get any intel, I guess. Sure.”
Sloan shook her head. “Don’t worry, we got plenty of intel to get us started. It just hasn’t arrived yet.”
I straightened, now fully re-energized. “Meaning what?”
“The first step to getting ahead of something,” she replied, “is acquiring an inside man. And Christopher was kind enough to volunteer when he willingly handed over his phone.”
“When you put it in the safe?” My brow furrowed as I replayed the scene. “I thought you were blocking signals.”
“The safe does block all signals, all right,” she said. “But only until my guys take it out from the other side.” Her mouth lifted into a wide grin. “And download everything on it.”
My jaw dropped as I processed. “The whole thing’s a trick?”
“Actually, no.” She shrugged. “It does double-duty. The safe really does block everything, which is helpful for privacy. But sometimes it’s also useful for gaining access. Our little meeting was plenty of time for my security team on the other side of the wall to not only access, but also mirror and track his phone. We’ll be able to know everything he’s doing from now on. Untraceably, of course.”
I settled back into my seat, eyes wide. For the first time since I had watched Grant get shoved into the van, I felt hope. We might actually be able to help him, with this kind of access.
“So do you know what they’ve found?” I asked. “Any leads so far?”
She shook her head. “Still working on it. Leo’s going through everything as we speak.” She sat up and crossed her legs on the bed. “But I got word Christopher’s calendar does have another meeting scheduled for tonight. Kinda late. And, reading between the lines on an email, he suspects it has something to with Grant’s little dilemma.”
“So that’s next? We try to listen in on this meeting?”
“Absolutely,” Sloan replied. “But it’s not ‘til later.” Her mouth quirked up in the corners, mischievous. “So there’s a little something else I think we should do first. Much more fun.”
I eyed my friend, suspicious. “For some reason that makes me nervous. Does this fun happen to be illegal somehow?”
Sloan scoffed good-naturedly. “Who you think I am?” She paused dramatically to think about it. “I guess you never know, when things get carried away. But that’s definitely not our intention.”
I could do nothing but laugh and shake my head at the faux-innocent smile she flashed me. For some reason, I knew I was just going to go along with it. Whatever the not-purposely unlawful activity was.
“We’ll definitely need disguises for tonight,” Sloan continued.
“Right. Back to our alter-egos.” I straightened and reached for my dark wig, hoodie and faux piercing. They’d come to be a bit of a security blanket for me. I could escape my out-of-control reality while hiding in them.
“Not those disguises,” Sloan said, eyeing my bundle. “Those are just enough to fool the neighbors. They don’t know us.” She grabbed the hoodie from my hands and tossed it on a chair across the room. “But Christopher and his gang do. We’ll need to step it up a bit for this next part. Keep ‘em distracted.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean, distracted?”
She walked to her closet and peered in. “Remember that escort disguise you tried out last time? The one for the photos with Walter?” She began digging through the hangers, shoving dresses forward as she searched in the back.
I didn’t want to remember the shenanigans that had gotten me into this mess. “A short, tight dress is not going to be enough of a disguise.” I shook my head. “Like you said, these guys know us. Unlike last time.”
“True, but it’s a start.” She emerged from the closet with a garment bag and a gleam in her eye. “Next comes the stepping it up part.”
***
I froze just before I turned the corner, as soon as I heard the voices. Sloan had apparently finished getting ready and just beaten me downstairs to the kitchen. And she wasn’t alone.
“Where in the world could you possibly be going,” Lucas said. “Like that.”
“Just . . . out,” Sloan replied. “Dad.”
There was a long pause while I felt them glare at each other. I was glad I wasn’t there for the showdown. A protective Lucas against a strong-willed, independent Sloan made for a little more tension than I longed for at the moment.
“You demanded disguises if we want to leave the house, did you not?” Sloan asked innocently. I could feel her batting her long eyelashes just to annoy him. “We’re just following orders.”
Another pause. She must’ve really gone all out. I glanced down at my own ridiculous getup. I thought I had been uncomfortable last time, due to the overall slinkiness of the dress. But this time she had made sure I understood what a real full-on disguise looked like. Sloan-style.
“Fine, just,” Lucas stammered. “Just take the security with you. Extra. And then some more. We already have some mailman hanging around outside, taking a little too long to deliver your junk mail. And now this. Our guys leave your side, or you two ditch them in any way, and I’m locking you both up in the house. No more games. I’m not kidding.”
Once again, I had to wonder about their relationship. Does his overwhelming protective instinct mean anything more? I still felt there could be something between them, despite Sloan’s protestations. He certainly cared about her. And clearly was having a reaction to her appearance.
“Whatever,” Sloan replied, uninterested. She raised her voice. “Good to see you, too.”
I realized too late that she had been calling out behind Lucas as he stormed out of the kitchen. I gulped and cast about for an exit, anything out of his path. There was just no time.
Lucas turned the corner and plowed straight into me. His eyes went wide as he watched me crash to the floor with a heavy thud. Then got wider as he took in my ensemble.
“Whoa. So . . . sorry,” he said, visibly flustered.
I yanked on the hem of my dress and straightened my long, layered necklace, trying to pull myself together. The outfit was definitely not meant for lying splayed ungracefully on the hardwood floor. I scrambled to stand, finally accepting his offered hand for help as I tottered to my feet on my over-the-knee black boots.
Finally dusted off and vertical again, I grudgingly looked up to meet his eyes. He immediately flipped the switch on hi
s megawatt smile. His entire face lit, glowing with charisma and allure.
“We really have to stop meeting like this,” Lucas said, continuing to hold my hand an extra second.
I felt a blush creep into my cheeks unbidden. He sure could turn on the charm when he wanted. It was just not fair.
I felt Lucas look me over, his eyes roving from the boots up across the little-too-tight cocktail dress. Taking it all in, the megawatt smile fading. Then he studied my face a moment, seeming confused. Probably wasn’t a fan of such an overdone look. Sloan had taken a heavy hand on the makeup, particularly with a deeply smoldering smokey eye. I had hardly recognized myself.
“I know,” I said, averting my eyes and pulling at the ends of my dark wig self-consciously. “It’s a lot.”
“You, uh . . .” He stammered, shifting his gaze away. “You . . . “
Sloan sure had him flustered with these outfits. I gave him a little encouraging smile when his eyes met mine again.
The charm suddenly disappeared. He cleared his throat and gave me a direct look, his face now hard. “You two want to play silly games,” he barked, “fine, I can’t stop you. But you better keep the security. And don’t do anything stupid.”
I didn’t trust my voice to respond, with the sudden knot that formed in my throat. I simply nodded and averted my eyes. I didn’t want him to see how his disappointment affected me.
There was a long pause. I could hear him breathing but didn’t dare look up again. After a moment Lucas grunted and headed down the hall, without another word. I could hear him grumbling under his breath as he disappeared out the front door.
TWENTY-FOUR
“By the way,” Sloan said suddenly, shaking me back to the present. “How’s your accent game?”
I was grateful for the interruption of my Lucas-related ponderings as we drove. “Never really thought about it.” I tried out a snooty, severely nasal inflection. “Mmm . . . I guess I could always be a wealthy woman of great, great means. Not quite British, but not quite not, either. What say you?” I had to stifle a laugh as I watched for her response.
Without missing a beat, she raised her nose in the air and looked to me through mockingly half-closed eyes. “Mmm, true true. However, the correct term is comfortable, you see dear, never wealthy. And while this might do fine in the theatre, dahling,” she enunciated dramatically, “It won’t quite work for us right now. Obviously.”
“Course, of course.” I twirled my fingers in the air playfully before being distracted by the SUV pulling to a stop at the curb. We were at the edge of the local college campus. It was near downtown, a small haven of pristine grassy lawns and gleaming academic buildings slipped right in the middle of the city.
I looked back at her questioningly. “What are we doing here?”
Sloan shrugged and pushed open her door. “Did some checking. Turns out Sayid’s fraternity is having a party tonight.”
I sighed, sensing where this was going. “And let me guess—you always wanted to know what a real frat party was like?”
“How’d you know?” Sloan widened her eyes in mock-shock at me before hopping out of the vehicle. “But it’s not a party per se. Apparently all the cool kids call it a mixer. Duh.”
I rolled my eyes and followed her. “Right.” We strolled across the street and up the covered front porch of a stately brick home, likely built over a hundred years ago. A low thumping from inside shook the ground at regular intervals.
A young man of no more than nineteen bounded into our path as we approached, blocking the door. “Welcome,” he said with a quick grin. He paused and looked us both over carefully with satisfaction. “I’m quite certain I’ve never seen you two here before.”
“First time,” Sloan replied, her voice bubbly. “We’re here to see Matt.”
“Right.” His face fell slightly. He tried to cover it with suspicion, narrowing his eyes. “Which Matt?”
Sloan glanced at me and giggled. “I don’t know . . . the cute one?”
He rolled his eyes and moved aside, ushering us in with a sigh. “Whatever. Have at it.”
Sloan gave him a little wink as she passed. We continued through the foyer toward the dimmed main room. The walls and floor now vibrated with the music overwhelming the space ahead. I had to fight the immediate urge to find the DJ and demand they turn down the volume at once.
“I’ll . . . come find you later,” the door guy called out behind us. “Make sure you found him okay and everything.”
I leaned into Sloan as we reached the crowded room. “Who’s Matt?”
“Got me.” She shrugged back, grinning. “Place like this, there’s always at least one.”
We paused and took in the room a moment, watching the mix of flirtatious mingling and the beginnings of drunken dancing. It hadn’t gotten too out of hand yet. The night was young.
“At least it’s classier than the one frat party I attended in college,” I yelled into Sloan’s ear. “That was just a pitch-black basement with half an inch of beer on the floor. Pretty gross.”
“Still kinda gross, you ask me. But they at least dress it up in the beginning. To sell all the pledges, I’m sure.”
“Music level’s the same though,” I said, cringing as my head buzzed with the thumping bass. “Think I should tell them to turn it down?”
“No audiologist tonight,” she scolded with a laugh. “You old lady.”
I noticed some looks from passersby, both male and female, and wondered if we actually were already old enough to seem out of place. Then I looked down and remembered our disguises.
“At least everyone is pretty dressed up,” I said, feeling self-conscious. “But we still stand out a bit, don’t you think?”
Sloan looked over, quizzical. “And that’s a bad thing?” She gazed back out at the room, taking in the scene as if looking for something. Her head bobbed slightly to the music. “No, this’ll do just fine for our purposes.”
I sighed, knowing I probably didn’t want to know until too late.
“There,” she finally exclaimed, pointing to the far corner. I followed her finger across the room to find Sayid. Or what I could only assume was Sayid.
The frilly pink bonnet tied under his chin was embarrassing, but not the most disturbing part of the ensemble. The giant makeshift diaper covering his entire midsection was the real eye draw. And it was succeeding.
Sayid wandered through the crowd, a sagging tray of sloshing beers in his hands. Partygoers laughed and elbowed each other before grabbing a cup without thanks. He was doing a good job of ignoring the sneering and snickers, but we knew him well enough to read the humiliation in his eyes.
“That’s all I needed to see,” Sloan said, overtly disgusted. “Time to make someone pay.”
My eyes widened as I watched Sloan scan the room, intently searching again. I had followed her to the party, willingly, but was quickly beginning to rethink my participation. Sloan in a revenge scheme sounded truly terrifying.
“There,” she stabbing her finger at a figure in the far corner of the room. The guy had a gaggle of cocktail-dress clad girls in front of him, all chattering loudly. He looked bored with the whole scene and began chugging his beer, foamy dribbles running down his chin. “That guy looks in charge, right?”
I watched as he drained the last of the beer, crumpled the cup in his hand, and threw it hard directly at Sayid. Sayid flinched in surprise as the plastic missile ricocheted off his face. He stabilized his beer tray and continued on, otherwise unreactive. My anger simmered hotter as the cup-thrower cheered and his retinue followed suit.
“I think so,” I hissed.
Sloan pulled out a stick of gum and popped it in her mouth. “Come on then.” Suddenly she took off across the room, leaving me to chase behind on my wobbly heels. I somehow managed to catch up while maintaining my balance. Not necessarily my compos
ure.
I was expecting her to march straight up to the jerk of interest, but she kept her eyes everywhere but on him. I copied her fearless strut as we paraded past, inches away, pretending to pay him no attention.
He took notice immediately, stepping forward to grasp at Sloan’s arm. “What’s up,” he said, implementing his clearly phenomenal frat-boy conversation-starter skills.
Sloan’s face was hostile when she turned back. “Back off, buddy,” she sneered, brushing his hand away. “We’re not here for you. We’re looking for the guy in charge.”
“Interesting,” he said, eyebrows shooting up and then furrowing as he looked her over. “Only I don’t recall approving you two coming in here yet.” He puffed up his chest a little. “And as President, I get final say.”
Sloan rolled her eyes. “So you’re Devin, huh?” She had affected a subtle but unmistakable Jersey accent. “Well, I’d say we were already pretty well approved. Since your buddies is who sent us here in the first place. Like I said, we’re here for you.”
His eyes lit up a little as he hesitated. “Meaning what?”
She chomped her gum a moment, eyeing him right back with boredom. “Meaning, whatever you want. I didn’t set no rules.” She flashed him a sly smile, eyes twinkling. “Not my style, as you’ll see.”
“You only get even more interesting,” he mused. “So who’s your friend?”
My eyes widened. I tried to play it cool as he looked me over.
“I was told the more the merrier.” Sloan shrugged. “But if you’re not into it—”
“No,” he interrupted, “It’s not a problem.” He tore his eyes off my dress to face Sloan again, looking energized. “Looks like my pledges have really stepped up their suckup game, huh? Let’s take this somewhere a little quieter.”
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