Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“You said it has Bluetooth connectivity, and he could upload it to his phone. If they check that—”
“He’s not a moron. He won’t use his regular phone. I’m sure he has a burner. No, if I tell Roth now, what if there’s no way to trace it back to him? I could have just as easily put that thing in my room. She’ll think this is like what happened before.”
He’s not wrong.
I run my hand around to the back of my neck, giving myself a gentle massage as I try to think this through.
“Where is this now?” I ask.
“Right where I found it.”
“You left it in the outlet?”
“Yeah. Right now, this is our upper hand. Isaac doesn’t know I found it. So we can plant whatever the hell we want in his head. Use it against him.”
“That was smart. If I’d found it, I would have just ripped it out of the wall. But what do you mean, use it against him?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to think of. Like if he believed we were close to proving it was him. Had a conversation in my room about it, maybe he would realize he has to intervene, and then he’d come for us.”
“Like a trap?”
His gaze finally meets mine, and he smiles. “Exactly.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“He could have my fucking brother somewhere, Leif. I have to do what I have to do.” He’s all tensed up, defending this as though I’m not on his side.
“You’re right. I just…don’t want you to get hurt in the process.”
But if his brother is still alive, if he could prevent him from winding up like Jason Kilbourne, he has to do something.
We’re both quiet again.
I’m sure he’s trying to sort out what we could say to lure Isaac to him, but I’m searching for any solution that doesn’t involve putting our lives in danger.
“If we’d known about this before talking to Wes,” he says, “when we got back, we could have pretended he told us something useful and then said we were gonna go to the cops with it. Bet that would have brought him running.”
“It wouldn’t really be believable that we would know something and not go to the cops.”
Zane runs his fingers over his chin, nodding. “True. Good thinking.”
And unfortunately, the stress of the moment has sharpened my thinking a little too much.
Because I do have an idea.
A really crappy, terrible idea.
“If there was a way we could convince him we were onto something,” Zane goes on, “that we’re getting close enough that we would go to the cops after we found it…”
Not bad, but… “I have a better idea.” I have to force the words out.
Zane stops pacing and turns to me, panic in his expression. I wonder if he’s already considered this option but hasn’t been willing to say it.
“He tried to get me once before,” I say. “He’s obviously still watching us; otherwise, he wouldn’t have followed us to Caribou Coffee. Maybe he’s waiting for his chance, but he hasn’t come for me because you’ve been by my side this whole time.”
“No,” he says. “No. Fuck that. This isn’t an option.”
I study the image on his phone. “Zane, this guy’s not giving up. And we’ve been lucky we’ve lasted this long, but it can’t go on forever. I have to rebuild my fucking life. And you’re not gonna be able to protect me from everything. You said yourself you have to do what you have to do for Mike, and this might be it.”
“I’m not using you as bait to save him.”
I tried to avoid using that word, but of course that’s what we’d be doing.
“You don’t get to make that call on your own,” I say. “That’s not how this works.”
“Well, you don’t get to decide to put your life at risk on your own.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yeah, I know,” he says, flustered. “I’m just trying to think of a way to get this shit idea out of your pretty head.”
But with every second that passes, I become even more confident it’s the only way. “The last thing Isaac heard us talking about last night was how we were worried about your mental health. All we need to do is have a plausible conversation about checking you in at the ER. My parents are on a cruise Christmas through New Year’s.”
“Stop. We’re not talking about this.”
“It’s actually perfect if you think about it. We stage taking you to the ER, and then I bring you back. You hide in the basement for a few days. When he comes back, he tries to take me, you pop out and grab him.”
“You’re speeding through the most important bit.”
“We’ll figure it out. You have a fucking gun.”
“He might too. And when he’s got it on you, what the hell am I supposed to do then?”