“I agree.” The fact that Quentin was about to turn seventeen and Amber didn’t turn fourteen for a couple of months had me a little on edge. It was one thing when the kid was sixteen. There was just something about his inevitable seventeen-dom that brought out the mother bear in me.
Then again, Beep was barely two months old and I’d already peddled her off to a four-hundred-year-old demon.
Maybe seventeen wasn’t so bad. And I’d had nothing to do with their inevitable hookup. That little nugget came to me the same day Amber’s destiny did. The day they’d taken Beep away. The day I’d forgotten how to breathe.
“I miss him,” Amber said.
“Osh?”
She giggled. “No. Quentin.”
I pulled her onto the bed beside me and leaned in to her secretively. “Okay, for reals. How did Osh handle high school?”
She snorted then doubled over in a fit of the giggles. It was fun to watch.
After laughing so hard her face turned red, she told me all the gory details. Girls fell over backwards, literally, to get a look at him. And one glance was not enough for most. Since Osh hung with her all day under the guise of being her cousin, every girl in school wanted to get to know her better.
“He is cute,” she said.
“What?” I shook my head. “No, he’s not. He’s … he’s…”
“It’s okay, Aunt Charley. I don’t think of him in that way.”
“Right,” I said, relief washing over me. “You only have eyes for a tall blond boy who eats his spaghetti with a straw.”
She burst out laughing again. “We only did that once. As an experiment. It doesn’t work as well as you might think.”
“Yeah, I’ll take your word for it.”
By the time we emerged from Amber’s room, her entire demeanor had changed. She was still nervous, but the situation didn’t bother her as much. Her future looked far too bright to let it.
As Uncle Bob went over some last-minute instructions with her, Cookie wrapped an arm in mine and took me aside. “How do you do it?”
“What?”
“I’m her mom and—”
“Cook, that’s it. You’re her mom. I’m the cool aunt.” I breathed on my fingernails and polished them on my shirt.
“I suppose you’re right. I’m just glad that cool aunt vibrator thing works.”
“You know about Han Solo?” When she questioned me with her usual comic obliviousness, I said, “I think you mean vibe. And it does work. Clearly. Also, I have superpowers.”
She gaped at me. “I have superpowers, too.”
“Hon, blinding people with your fashion sense doesn’t count.”
“Oh, okay. Never mind, then.” She hugged me to her, thanking me for the thousandth time since the whole thing began.
I had Swopes text Amber to make sure we’d get it, too. Something totally nonsensical. Because we would also get all of Amber’s texts, we would know the minute Joe made contact.
When a text came through that read, Do you think Justin is cute? Amber giggled.
I punched Garrett on the arm.
“What?” he said, rubbing his biceps as though he actually felt my paltry effort. “I have nieces. I know how they think. And every school on the planet has at least one Justin. It’s a statistical fact.”
He had me there.
As per the instructions, Cookie dropped Amber off at Coronado Center, a.k.a. the mall, then drove to the back entrance of a convenience store three blocks away and got in the waiting surveillance van. We couldn’t risk Joe seeing her slip into the van and grow suspicious.
Once Cookie was inside, an officer drove the van over and parked behind the mall.
The team consisted of me, Reyes, three officers posing as shoppers, Uncle Bob, who was stationed in the mall security booth, Garrett, who was hanging back, and Osh, who was meeting us on-site.
Reyes had been a little moody after finding out the angels who’d been stalking me were actually stalking him, so I stationed him at a kiosk that sold cologne. The salesman there was about to have his best day ever. Women flocked around the kiosk as Reyes pretended to try this cologne and that. They would spray perfume on their wrists, wave it in front of him, and ask his opinion. Subtly was none of their strong suits.
I went about my business window-shopping. Not that I needed new windows.
Amber met her friend Brandy at the entrance. We would hear every word they said over the mic. If Joe texted, she was to go to the food court, where we had the rest of the team waiting.
Two hours later, the girls were still walking around looking at clothes rather unenthusiastically. The officers were getting antsy. Osh, dressed in his high school getup, was flirting with a saleslady.
I navigated my shattered screen and called Ubie, wishing I could run over and get the screen switched out. We were so close, the store barely a hundred feet away. But conducting personal business during a stakeout was often frowned upon.
“What do you think?” Ubie asked me.
“I’ve noticed a pattern. I need to talk to the girls.”
“Now? Charley, you could blow the whole op. If he sees you with her—”
“Which is exactly why I’m going to make it look like a total coincidence. This is a mall, after all. It’s not unheard of to run into people you know.”