“What can I get you?” asked Harrison, labeling a cup with a permanent marker as I approached the counter.
“A shot of espresso and a private word with you if you don’t mind,” I said.
He glanced up at me. At first, I wondered if he didn’t remember me, but the tiniest glint of recognition shimmered in his eyes before he looked around the shop nervously.
“I’m interested in an early edition of a book,” I added hastily. At first, I hadn’t known just how careful Harrison was about his identity. Now I realized that it bordered on paranoia. “Albert Camus. L’Étranger. I heard you might have a copy from 1955.”
“Yeah, in the next room over,” called Harrison over his shoulder as he manned the espresso machine. “Give me a minute.”
“I’m actually kind of in a hurry,” I pressed. “It’s urgent. The book… it’s, uh, for Salander.”
At the mention of Lauren’s code name, a small espresso cup fell from Harrison’s hand and shattered on the floor. His assistant barista, a squat brunette that effortlessly swirled a cappuccino into existence with deft hands, waved him away from the shards of glass.
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Harrison. “Do you mind taking over for a few minutes? I need to help this customer.”
“No problem.”
Harrison ducked under the countertop, guiding me away from the busy cafe with his hand at the small of my back. We shuffled into the next room over, where Harrison closed the door behind us. In the corner of this room, I knew that a concealed trapdoor led to a secret basement. It was where Lauren and I had originally convened to solve the first set of mysteries that the Raptors had left for us.
“What are you doing back here?” asked Harrison hastily. “Where’s my niece?”
The room was small. I stood close to Harrison and had to crank my neck back to look him in the eye. “Lauren’s fine. For now, at least. But we need your help.”
“With what?”
“Do you remember a woman named Natasha Petrov?” I asked. “She’s in trouble. With your ex-wife.”
Harrison pressed his lips together. “I should’ve known from the moment you walked in here that I would get dragged into this eventually.”
“Did you know who I was?”
He scoffed. “Of course I did. You look exactly like Anthony. How could I mistake you for anyone but his daughter? His death still haunts me. On the other hand, I’ve been trying to forget about Natasha for years.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I said in a biting tone. “You did try to kill her. And me, come to think of it.”
“You don’t understand what it was like—”
I stopped him with a raised hand. “I’m not here to place blame or ruin your cover. You did what you thought was necessary. I get it. But if you want vindication, you’re going to have to come clean.”
“I’m not following.”
“Catherine Flynn has my mother,” I said. “Natasha still believes that she killed you. Flynn’s been holding it over her head, but if you come with us, we have the chance to save her before the Raptors can hurt her.”
“I can’t—”
“Before you finish that sentence, I just want you to know that I have a federal agent on my side,” I interjected. “This isn’t some half-baked scheme for revenge. We’re finally putting an end to the Black Raptor Society, but we need you to help us.”
Harrison considered me. I could see the cogs turning in his mind as he pondered his options, but as his brown eyes darkened, my heart sank.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Nicole. I can’t risk it.”
“But if you just—”
Harrison slammed a hand against the wall. I winced as antique books cascaded from the shelves and settled at our feet.
“No,” said Harrison firmly. He squatted down, unearthed a book from the rubble, and offered it to me. “L’Etranger. Take it and go. Don’t contact me again. And tell Lauren to check in with me.”
I took the book and let myself out of the small room. I turned back to face Harrison. “If you really cared about Lauren, you would come with us to Waverly.”
And then I left, ignoring the curious stares I received from the other patrons in the cafe. In the parking lot, I climbed into the corroded car. Wes and Henry waited patiently for my report.
“Well?” prompted Henry.
“Give him a minute,” I replied, watching the door of Floorboard Lit.
But the parking lot was silent save for the rumbling of the car engine.
“What are we waiting for?” grumbled Wes.
“A change of heart,” I said. “Wait for it.”
A moment later, Harrison pushed open the front door of the bookstore, spotted our sad excuse for a vehicle, and jogged over. He knocked on my window, which I coaxed down with the stiff crank.
“Fine,” he declared. “For Lauren’s sake. That girl has so much potential, and it’s wasted on that damn society. Where are we going?”
“Back to Waverly,” I said.
It was at that moment the car chose to shudder and die, the engine abruptly cutting off with an anguished groan. I rolled my eyes, but before any of us could voice a complaint, my phone buzzed, displaying Lauren’s number on the screen.
“Hey, Lauren,” I answered. “How’s it going?”
“Not good,” she said in a low, terse voice. “You need to get here as quickly as possible, Nicole.”
The hair at the back of my neck prickled. “Why? What happened?”
“My aunt doesn’t want to use Natasha to control you,” whispered Lauren. “Olivia and I heard her talking. Flynn’s planning to kill her.”
My entire body stiffened, and I rode out a wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm me.
