Keira froze. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Had he heard her? She hadn’t slipped over, had she? She glanced down at the mud beneath her shoes. Shimmering over it was a gleaming floor that looked like a single, enormous slab of stone. She curled her hands into fists. It was getting too easy to see Darkside.
“Easy, there. I only cleared my throat,” Walker said.
Smith’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he went back to hunting through the desk’s contents. Behind the desk door hung a series of small black discs, each the size of a quarter. They all looked identical to Keira, but Smith grabbed one and rubbed it between his fingers. Smith glanced up at Walker’s hands, wrapped around the small boxes he’d selected.
“One needle per patron,” Smith scolded.
Walker hesitated. “I know,” he said slowly. “I hadn’t decided which one would work better for this. Don’t want to have to come back and bother you again if I need a different depth.”
Keira shuddered. She didn’t exactly know what the needles had to do with getting the information they needed, but she had a sneaking suspicion she should have brought some Band-Aids. Big ones.
“Fine,” Smith snapped. “But you bring them all back in perfect condition, and if you tell anyone—”
“I wouldn’t tell anyone, Smith. You should know that by now. I’m excellent at keeping secrets,” Walker spat back. “Speaking of which, how are things going with Susan? Have you told her everything? Bared your soul? Or are you just trying to get her to bare her ass?”
“There’s nothing ‘going’ with me and Susan. Not anymore.”
Walker snickered, but the set of his shoulders tightened. “Wow. She dropped you already. Exactly how bad a kisser are you?”
Keira automatically reached for her phone, wondering why Susan hadn’t called again. What exactly had happened between her and Smith? But her pockets were empty. She’d left her phone in the car.
“That’s none of your fucking business. Let’s go,” Smith said. The tips of his ears turned red.
He and Walker strode across the smooth floor and Keira hurried to keep up. The guys crossed the large, open main room. They passed straight through the Reynoldses’ chain-link fence, but Keira had to struggle over it, then run to catch up to them.
Which she did.
Just before they disappeared into a little hallway. A hallway that was inside Jeremy Reynolds’s house.
Chapter Thirty-Six
KEIRA CURSED AT THE wall of vinyl siding. She focused, seeing Darkside. Walker and Smith were at the entrance of a small room lined with what looked like glass-fronted cases, only the glass shone in the same light-absorbing way as the lamps. Keira couldn’t look directly at them without the ache behind her eyes becoming unbearable.
She was going to have to break into Jeremy’s house. Fabulous. He’d practically begged her to come over, and now she was sneaking in like a criminal.
Thank God it was Monday. His parents would be at work and he’d be at school.
She hurried around to the Reynoldses’ back door. It was locked. Of course.
She glanced around frantically, knowing that Walker couldn’t see her and wouldn’t know she was stuck. That’s when she saw the dog door.
The Reynolds had an ancient golden retriever, and if the door was big enough for him, just maybe . . . Keira knelt down, wondering if she were really desperate enough to try it. She looked Darkside again and saw Smith and Walker standing in front of one of the cases.
She didn’t have any other choice.
With a last glance around to make sure none of the neighbors had spotted her, Keira shimmied into the house. Her shoulders stuck in the small opening and Keira panicked. The Reynoldses’ dog, Buddy, came bouncing around the corner, barking. He stopped in the kitchen door, his tail wagging as he saw Keira. In three bounds, he’d crossed the linoleum floor and started licking her face enthusiastically.
Keira twisted and squirmed, trying to avoid his slobbery greeting. In the process, one of her shoulders popped into the house. She slithered through as fast as she could, landing in a heap on the dirty floor.
She ran to the back of the house, into the cluttered spare bedroom. She stopped with her nose inches from Walker’s back. The dog bounced around excitedly, distracting her and making it hard to hear Walker and Smith.
“—not like you’d ever let me forget,” Smith said.
“Just unlock it,” Walker said, his frustration showing.
Smith spun to face the cabinet and pressed the small disc he’d taken from the desk against the glassy front. Keira watched, stunned, as the surface disappeared like clearing smoke. On the newly visible shelf stood a row of what looked like wafer-thin books, their impossibly skinny spines etched with the same sort of crosshatch symbols that decorated the needle boxes.
Smith leaned against the other cabinet with his arms crossed. Waiting.
Walker mirrored his posture. “This might take a while.”
“I can wait,” Smith said.