I was just like Boone.
I remembered him from when I was little, with his salt-calloused hands and fisherman’s squint. When I was a teenager, he’d supplied me and my friends with illicit liquor, sheening me with a kind of outlaw celebrity. He was larger than life, practically mythical, and I could not begin to imagine him and my mother, my society-driven, manners-obsessed, proper Methodist mother…
The butterflies morphed into bats, and I took a deep breath, massaged my diaphragm. I had Eleanor Randolph’s sturdy build and unruly hair, the parts of herself she’d tried hardest to change. Did we also share an attraction to the subversive and reckless? Had that been her gift to me, bequeathed in my blood and bones?
Yes. The answer was yes.
No wonder working this case felt as exhilarating as riding a wrecking ball. Every danger-loving gene in me was swinging wild and loose.
Chapter Thirty-six
That afternoon, Finn showed up at the shop in a flowered church dress, a matching handbag clutched in one hand and a backpack in the other. I could tell from the way she carried both that they were heavier than they ought to be, probably because they packed some firepower.
“I saw the Ferrari,” she said. “Trey left it for you?”
I locked up the register. “He did.”
“Smart move. That will definitely get them talking.” She dropped the backpack on the floor and started rummaging in it. “Did you manage to peel him out of the Armani?”
I grinned. “That is one of my particular talents.”
“Good.” She grinned back and held up a shopping bag. “Mind if I change?”
I pointed to the storage room. She went inside but didn’t close the door. Her voice was muffled. “Speaking of Trey, have you found out yet?”
“Found out what?”
“Why he got fired.”
I poured the last of the coffee into my travel mug. “Nope.”
“Damn. I was hoping you’d have done better than I did. Having some personal leverage and all.”
I didn’t tell her that I had one very promising avenue of investigation, once I remembered where I’d seen the name Jonathon McDonald. Right under my nose, it had been. But until I heard what he had to say, I wouldn’t be sharing those details with anyone, especially not Finn.
“Your new accoutrements are in the backpack,” she called. “Give them a look-see.”
I peered inside. “I have a new phone?”
Finn came back into the shop barefoot, now wearing leggings and a workout tee. “A burner. But it’s got 4G LTE and a five-megapixel camera. Also audio recording capability—tap the microphone icon and whatever conversation you record will be sent wirelessly to a remote data storage center. Same with any photographs.” She came over and rummaged in the handbag. “The wi-fi can be spotty up there, so wear this at all times.”
She handed me a chunky bangle bracelet, gold plated with black lacquer. I slipped it over my wrist.
“What is it?”
“A hot-spot generator. Creates wi-fi wherever you are, which is necessary where we’re going. Lots of dead zones.”
I whistled. “Damn. That’s James Bond stuff right there.”
“I just got back from a trade show.” She tossed her kitten heels into the backpack, pulled out a pair of Nikes and ankle socks. “It’s a brave new world for spying, I tell you. No more tape rash or battery packs burning a hole in your bra. Just turn on the app, and everything being said around you will go real-time into the audio surveillance channel.”
“And right into Trey’s ear.”
“That’s the only way he’d consent to you two working separately.” She hopped up on my counter and laced her shoes. “He still doesn’t trust me, but that’s okay. He’s much more useful when he’s suspicious.”
She removed the barrette from her hair, and her bangs fell over her forehead in a stiff wave. She took a towelette from her bag and started wiping away her pastel eyeshadow and pink lipstick.
“And the end game?” I said.
“Now that it’s become clear that someone actually is trying to kill Nicholas Talbot, my job is finding out the who and why of it.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “The labs came back positive. He did have an elevated kavalactone level in his blood. The pu-erh tested positive as well, both the leaves and the tea itself.”
“Which means the kava was added in the trailer.”
“Yep.”
“Time to alert the cops?”
“Not my call. But the lab I use is certified. The results will stand up in court, as will whatever ballistics tests we do on that cactus. I have a lab that can take care of that too.”
I didn’t tell her she’d have to pry it from Trey’s hands, assuming she managed to infiltrate his den of investigation. I watched her finish her make-up—a slick of mascara, a daub of blush. She looked fresh from a Pilates class.
I leaned one hip against the counter. “Does Nick know you’re using him as bait?”
Finn gave me a half-smile. “I wouldn’t put it like that. But yes, he knows that whoever is trying to harm him will see this event as a prime opportunity. He insisted we proceed.”
“Does Trey know this is the plan?”
“He knows a trap when he spots one. I’m sure he also knows it’s the best move we have at this point, a move that cops can’t make. Civilians in jeopardy and all that.” She spritzed a cloud of body spray and walked into it. “I answer to the Talbot Creative board, no one else, certainly not the fine men and women of the law, though several have been sharpening their knives for Nick. That’s why I need you.”
I scoffed. “You mean Trey.”
“No, I mean you.” She shoved her dress in the backpack. “Look, Trey’s great. He’s a detail man, good with data. Clear-headed and excellent in an emergency. Plus he’s got insider knowledge of the backstory here and quite possibly a vendetta. But he’s a bonus. You’re the one I wanted for this.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because
