Bone Driven (Foundling #2)

I snorted but had to admit, “You’re probably right. I have to sweep scales off the floor every week.”

Of all the chaos that had erupted in our living room, somehow that eyesore had remained unscathed. Bass can’t get mange, but this one had the fish equivalent. Paired with the dry rotted board it was mounted to and the plaque held on with Gorilla glue, its value was purely sentimental.

I watched Dad a moment longer before I could tear myself away from him. “I better get going.”

Aunt Nancy nodded in understanding. “Will you be back tonight?”

“That’s the plan.” I reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’ll text you if anything changes.”

Leaving her to finish her nightly routine, I shut myself into the sewing room and sent a text before changing into street clothes. Shrugging my backpack into place at the door, I headed out to my Bronco where I added the respirator and fresh cartridges to my supplies.

A black SUV pulled up to the curb as I was locking up, but the grin tugging on my lips released its hold as Santiago saluted me from the driver’s seat with two fingers. I returned the wave after a slight hesitation then slid in beside him.

“Hey.” I stashed my equipment at my feet. “Are you up for this?”

“Yep.” The leather bracelet I had yet to remove caught his eye, but he only shook his head, like there was no point in fighting the inevitable. “Unlike Cole, I have a natural immunity to most toxins.” As he guided us back onto the road, he curled his thin lips up in a smile that might have made him handsome if he’d kept his mouth shut. “I won’t jump your bones unless you ask me nicely.”

Thinking back to how things had gone down at the house, I had to ask, “And no one told me this, why?”

“Cole’s engine was revved too high for rational thought, and Thom was too sluggish to process more than what was right in front of him. Miller’s nose is crazy sensitive. He got a second-hand hit of the stuff, and his stomach growled the way it does before he vanishes into the swamp to make entire deer herds extinct, so I made myself useful and held a claw to his gut. Disembowelment wouldn’t have stopped him for long, but it would have given us a chance to run.”

Well, that explained his spontaneous show of affection that day. Santiago wasn’t a touchy-feely guy, so it had struck me as odd how he’d embraced Miller like two friends having a chat. Threatening disembowelment? Now that was much more in character. “Have you made any progress with your database?”

“Yes and no. I downloaded about half of the information I wanted before a shadow noticed me poking my nose where it didn’t belong and booted me. What I’ve got is enough to get started, but I’m going to have to sneak in again to get the rest.” His lips twisted. “When you go active with the NSB, they’re going to chip us too, and we’re going to have to leave them under our skin so we give the appearance of compliance.” The twist ironed out into an almost-smile. “The sooner I finish dissecting the chip we recovered, the sooner I can figure out how to disrupt the signal. Once I know how to ping their towers, we can fake transmissions and falsify our locations. Used sparingly, we can fly under the radar for brief periods of time.”

The ability to hide from Wu would be priceless in the coming months. “Color me impressed.”

“You might have noticed yanking people’s chains is a hobby of mine. I look forward to giving Wu’s a good, hard pull one day soon.”

I laughed under my breath, well aware I shouldn’t encourage him. “We need to teach him some boundaries.” I toyed with the hem of my shirt. “Thom said he’s been in my room. I’m not officially NSB property yet, and he’s already got me carrying a cell that’s basically a private line direct to him.”

“That’s a stopgap measure until you’re chipped, I’m sure. He can track you, any calls you make, and any messages you send on that line.” A thoughtful expression settled on his features. “It’s got to be crawling with NSB bugs. Mind if I play exterminator?”

The offer to mess with Wu was too good to pass up. “As long as you don’t hose me with your wand, I’m good.”

A wide grin hit his mouth and stuck there. “Sometimes I almost like you.”

“The feeling is nearly mutual.”

We arrived at the nursery and had our pick of parking spaces. The area was isolated enough we didn’t have to worry about neighbors spotting us and calling it in, but I wasn’t in a hurry to explain why I had circled back without touching base with Summers if the local cops cruised past to spook looters.

“I’m going to suit up and take a look around,” I told him before the mask made speech difficult. “Here’s your new toy.” I passed over the black phone then tugged on yellow dishwashing gloves pilfered from under the sink at the Trudeaus’. Once I popped in new filters, I strapped on the respirator and pulled out a set of goggles. Overkill maybe, but I didn’t want to tempt fate. I had a hunch my lady bits only perked up when Cole was in the immediate vicinity, but I did not want to discover I was wrong only after I’d started dry-humping Santiago’s leg while he cackled and filmed my humiliation to share with the rest of the coterie. “Come looking if I’m not back in thirty.”

That fast, he had the back off the phone, its guts exposed to his lustful gaze. “Mmm-hmm.”

Using the ruined house to orient myself, I located the greenhouse that had given me fits. As I retraced my steps, strolling the main aisle, a prickling sensation skated over my nape. I waited a moment to see if it passed. I still felt itchy, but not itchier. I decided to press my luck and flipped on my cell’s flashlight. Three tables surrounded me, and any of the plants on offer could be the culprit, but my gut drew me toward a display in the rear. Written in a child’s scrawl were the words: Cat Garden. The printed notecard beneath claimed all the varieties were cat-safe treats.

I snapped pictures of each plant on offer, making sure to get a clear shot of the identification pick stuck in each pot. Catnip, mint, cat thyme, licorice root, cat grass, lemongrass. I froze over the last row, the white clustered blooms an exact match to the ones in my yard. Valerian. The mystery plant was valerian. I selected the heartiest one of the bunch and dropped it into an evidence baggie then sealed it tight. I would let the lab verify the match, but I had no doubt I’d isolated the culprit.

Back at the SUV, I raised the trunk to find a foam cooler awaiting me. I stuck the bagged plant in there, stripped off my equipment, and joined Santiago. He grumbled when the motion sent a miniature screw rolling, but he caught it before it dropped and went back to fiddling with the black phone’s innards. A guitar pick stuck to his bottom lip, and an eyeglasses repair kit rested on his knee. Clearly, he didn’t need much in the way of tools to be dangerous.

After snapping the shell back together, he turned it over in his hand. His phone had been connected to the black phone via USB since I arrived, and his fingers now flew over its screen.

While he was otherwise occupied, I drafted an email and CC’d in the coterie to save time. I included the snapshot of the plant and a quick note that identified it as the same one from my yard. I was skimming Cole’s curt response about dropping the specimen off at the lab when my phone rang. The screen lit up with private number, and I flashed it at Santiago.

“Time’s up.” There was no doubt in my mind Wu was on the other end. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yep.” He closed an app bearing the White Horse logo on the black phone, erased it, did a quick scan, then placed it on my palm. “There you go. Your pest problem has been solved. According to the GPS, you’re chillin’ on the observation deck of the Empire State Building.”

I drew back, startled. “It’s that specific?”