Game of Lies. Amanda K. Byrne

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СКАЧАТЬ Tris be on this shift for a while?”

      “We don’t know, which is why we’ll be doing surveillance for a couple of days to confirm this schedule.”

      I reach for the mouse again and scroll through the schedule. “I’ve seen the house wake earlier than seven. Don’t know how often it happens, but there were at least two instances where someone left before six.”

      “Do you remember what days?” Nick rummages through the drawers and comes up with a pad of paper and a pen.

      “One was last Friday. The other might have been this past Monday, or possibly Tuesday. Guy leaving the house was the same one both times. I couldn’t get close enough to see who it was. Dark hair, on the skinny side. Wore a dark blue windbreaker.” There aren’t enough hiding spots for me to stick around for any length of time.

      “Might have been Michael.” Nick hits a few keys, and a picture appears on the middle monitor. “This him?”

      “Maybe. Like I said, I wasn’t very close.”

      A satellite map of the neighborhood pops up on the third monitor. He taps it with his finger. “Show me where you were.”

      “Zoom in.”

      Slowly, the houses and cars become clearer. I trace the line of the street with my finger, pausing in front of a house three houses up on the left, on the opposite side of the street. “Here. The owners have been out of town for the past week, so I’ve been able to use their yard to watch the traffic. Not ideal, but I’ve been able to track some of the comings and goings.” I point to the house directly across from Isaiah’s. “They were out one night. There’s a large shrub next to the front porch that provided some cover, though there wasn’t a lot of activity that night. Isaiah’s men seem to be in the house by eight in the evening.” I haven’t had a chance to pull an all-nighter, mostly because there isn’t any place on the street for me to hide. Smart choice on Isaiah’s part. The residential neighborhood limited what I could gather without being seen.

      “We’ll go back tomorrow night. I’ll see if there’s any traffic cameras nearby.”

      Over the next few hours, we fall into the rhythm we developed over the last few months, and it’s as though the problems of the past twelve hours never happened.

      The false sense of peace continues when we break for food. “How long should we wait?” I ask, dumping the ground turkey into the skillet. “I’ve already got him on edge. I know we need more information, but I don’t think we can risk more than a few days.”

      “At least three.” The look of fierce concentration on his face is pretty funny, like the pepper he’s slicing is going to jump off the cutting board and run away. “Given that Tris’s schedule could change at the last minute, we’ll need to be prepared. Constantine’s working on getting us into one of the houses across the street. Couple of vacant ones with people on vacation for the holidays.”

      The mention of vacation stops me cold. I set my wooden spoon aside and turn to Nick. “I would feel a lot better if my mother were here. Aunt Carol’s closest neighbor is about a half mile away, and on the off chance Isaiah decides to go after her, they’re too vulnerable.”

      He doesn’t speak, just places the knife next to the cutting board, wipes his hands, and pulls out his phone. I take it from him and find my mother’s contact information.

      It rings once, twice, three times. If it gets to five, it will automatically switch over to voicemail. The ice creeps back in as it starts on the fourth ring. She’s an adult. More, she’s the one who lived with Turner all these years. I have to trust she’ll be able to take care of herself.

      But I don’t think the broken shell she’s become is capable of doing that.

      “Hello?”

      The ice doesn’t recede completely, though it retreats enough I feel relief at the sound of her voice. “Mom?”

      “Cassidy. I’m glad you called. I’m assuming Nick told you I’ll be staying with your Aunt Carol for a while?”

      She sounds almost…normal. “He did. I’d like you to stay with us. It’s safer.”

      She’s quiet for a long moment. “I can’t,” she says at last. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I love you, but I need some time.”

      Time? Time for what? What is she sorry for? “I don’t understand.”

      Another stretch of silence, and her meaning penetrates. She needs time away from me. Her daughter.

      The ice surges and spreads, swallowing me whole. “You’ll call when you get to Aunt Carol’s?”

      “I will. I’ll call you every day at four too. It’s only for a couple of weeks, Cass. When I get back, we’ll have a long talk about what to do.” After a slight hesitation, she tells me she loves me and hangs up.

      I give Nick his phone and pick up the spoon to poke at the meat.

      “Everything all right?”

      “Fine. She’s going to check in daily until she comes back. Are the peppers ready?” Everything is not fine.

      Unfortunately, this is one thing Isaiah’s death won’t fix.

      Chapter 4

      I’ve lost track of the minutes and hours I’ve sat here staring at the house across the street. The binoculars remain clutched in my hands, though they’re mostly useless at this point. No one’s moving. If it weren’t for the lights in the upstairs and downstairs windows, I’d assume everyone is asleep. They very well could be.

      There’s a smug sort of comfort in thinking I’ve scared Isaiah into sleeping with the lights on.

      The quiet is broken up by the clicking of Nick’s keyboard and his occasional muttered responses to Constantine’s questions, something about the app launch that isn’t ready. After the virus breach a few weeks ago, they had to push back the launch. From the snatches of conversation I’ve heard, it’ll take a miracle to make the new date. He should be at work, or at least not here, but he refused to leave me alone. So he’s glued to his laptop, Bluetooth fastened to his ear, as he tries to be two places at once.

      “You don’t have to be here. I’m not going to do anything tonight.” The empty house, courtesy of Constantine, is a blessing. I have a clear view of the street and the front door of Isaiah’s current hidey-hole. A few nights of surveillance, and I’ll hopefully have the information I need to finish the job.

      “You’ll understand if I don’t trust you to stay put.” Nick continues typing.

      I stand and stretch my arms over my head, my gaze never leaving the street. I’d forgotten how quiet suburbia could be at night. I glance at my phone. Barely eleven o’clock, and no one is stirring. It’s strangely bright outside, though. It’s the sort of neighborhood where people leave their porch lights on at night, and there are streetlights every hundred feet or so.

      The last person to enter the house was Tris. He’s easily identifiable, even in the dark. It’s his walk. He’s got this way of walking that demands you watch him. Coupled with his height and muscular build, there’s no СКАЧАТЬ