THEY SET THEIR computers up on the big kitchen island and started into it while they ate. Val and Einstein hadn’t moved, but they were watching the shopping channel now. Daniel pulled a stool up beside Alex and looked on as she scanned through the video of the front of Carston’s very respectable-looking town house. She fast-forwarded through the downtime when no one was in residence, simultaneously listening to Carston’s phone calls on her earbuds. Carston was careful—his work conversations were vague, never naming any person or project specifically, and since the office calls were recorded on an exterior microphone, she could only hear his side. He used so many pronouns it was impossible to follow. She could tell only that there were a few hes and hims that were getting on Carston’s nerves in a bad way and that at least one project was not going well. He sounded stressed. That could have been because of what happened in Texas and the e-mail to Deavers. Did Carston feel in danger? Did he think Kevin knew about him? He would have to play it safe, just in case. Carston didn’t get to where he was now by not being paranoid enough.
His house had an alarm system, ornamental bars on the first-floor windows, and exterior cameras. Some of the footage Kevin gave her appeared to be from those cameras—he must have hacked into the system. The street wasn’t ideal—lots of close neighbors, lots of activity on the street both morning and night. A plethora of witnesses.
“You have to break into that?” Daniel muttered as she pulled up yet another camera angle of the barred windows.
“Hopefully not.”
Alex pointed to the small woman who was walking up the front stairs. She had several paper grocery bags weighing her down as she stuck her key in the door and unlocked the dead bolt. From this angle, Alex could see as she paused in the doorway and punched in the code for the alarm. Her hand covered the keypad; there was no way to read the sequence.
“Housekeeper?” Daniel asked.
“Looks like. And she does his shopping.”
“Is that good?”
“It might be. If I could get a new face so I would be able to follow her around a bit.”
“What about me?” Daniel asked. “I haven’t been on the news in a while.”
“Daniel, we haven’t watched the news in a while,” she pointed out.
“Oh. You think they’re doing the bad-guy story now?”
“It’s possible. We should check it out.”
“You want the news?” Val called from the sofa in the adjacent room.
“Um, not if you’re using the TV now,” Daniel said politely.
“There’s another one in the cabinet to the left of the fridge, two over,” she told them.
Daniel walked to the indicated cupboard and pulled the door open to reveal a television screen recessed into the space. The door rolled back into a side pocket.
“Sweet,” Kevin muttered, glancing up from his own computer for half a second.
Alex went back to her research while Daniel flipped through channels until he found a twenty-four-hour news network. He set the volume low, then came back to sit with her.
Alex didn’t hear Val get up, but suddenly the blonde was leaning over her shoulder.
“That looks really dull,” she commented.
“Well, adding my mortality into the equation spices it up a bit,” Alex told her.
“Did you say you needed a new face?”
“Um, yes. See, the bruises and bandages make me too memorable.”
“And being memorable isn’t a good thing in your case?”
“No.”
“I could do that.”
“Huh?” Alex asked.
“Give you a new face.”
Alex turned to give Val her full attention. “What do you mean?”
CHAPTER 26
This would be easier if you’d stop trying to do two things at once,” Val complained.
“Sorry. I’m sort of on a deadline.”
“Just hold your head still.”
Alex did the best she could. She had Kevin’s laptop on her knees with her earbuds plugged into it. While Carston was in his car, she could hear both sides of the conversation. Unfortunately, it seemed Carston usually chose to use his driving time to connect with his only daughter, Erin. They spoke almost nonstop about the granddaughter—the one whose picture was in Alex’s locket—and after the first forty-minute discussion about which prekindergarten program was most likely to result in an Ivy League happy ending, Alex had started fast-forwarding as soon as she heard the daughter’s voice or, if Carston was in the office, the special tone he used only to speak to Erin. They talked a lot more than Alex would have expected. She stretched her fingers down and touched the Play button. Erin was still blathering on, something about taking Livvy to the zoo. Alex hadn’t missed anything. She hit fast-forward again.
“I want you to know this is an imperfect job, and it’s your fault.”
“Any imperfections are on me, agreed,” Alex said.
Val had turned Alex away from the wall of mirrors in the bathroom so she couldn’t see what was being done. She knew only that it felt like a coat of heavy, oil-based paint had been applied to her skin. Something pulled across the slash on her jaw, tight and constricting.
She’d thought the guest bathroom was opulent, but this palace was insane. Two families of five could live comfortably in just this room.
She focused her attention back on her computer screen. The housekeeper was arriving again at Carston’s. It looked like she brought groceries in about every other day. Alex noted the things she could see in the tops of the bags—a quart of organic skim milk, a box of bran cereal, OJ, coffee beans. She had the housekeeper’s license plate, and Kevin had gotten an address. After dark, Alex could run out and put a tracker on the woman’s car so she could follow her to the store.