Page 45 of The Reaper

“If you insist.” He walked toward the gate, pressing a button beside a speaker. “My name is Heath Saint James. I have an appointment at noon.”

“Welcome, Father. I’ll buzz you in,” a crackly voice said through the speaker.

I turned the ignition but stopped when Heath called out.

“What about your jacket?” he asked, unzipping my leather jacket.

“Keep it. I’ll get it later.”

The gate opened and Heath waved goodbye before he entered the mansion.

***

After entering the code to the rustic tiny home I’d booked from Airbnb, my watch lit up announcing a phone call from El Jefe. I ignored it and made my way inside. Online images of this place were deceiving; it was way smaller inside. My tour consisted of a ninety-degree turn, and I could touch the ceiling when I raised my hand. But it had a private bed and bathroom, so it would do.

“Go away,” I said when El Jefe’s name flashed on the screen again, then again, then again. I didn’t want another assignment, I needed time to get that list. This time a voice mail followed. Finally, a text.

Call me ASAP, it read.

Newsflash: I didn’t. I was seconds from shutting my phone off when Zero’s name flashed. She never called. My curiosity got the best of me and I accepted her call. “What’s up, Zero?”

“Hey, bro! Are you in some kind of trouble?”

My heart jumped out of my chest at her question. Did she know something I didn’t? I took a deep breath to calm the tension building in my neck and shoulders. The knots in my stomach were back with a vengeance. “Aren’t we always in trouble?” I asked, sounding like my typical not-a-care-in-the-world attitude.

“That’s a fact.”

“Why did you call?” I asked

“El Jefe asked me to track your phone,” she said between the loud clicking of her keyboard.

What the fuck? “Did you tell him?” Why did he want to know where I was? Was he the one who’d outed my plan? That couldn’t be it, could it? Paranoia had planted a seed in my head. The circle of people I trusted was shrinking as my world was collapsing.

“Not yet. I’m on an assignment right now and will do it later.”

Good. “Give me an hour and tell him my phone was left at my apartment where you tracked it to.”

“Are you in your apartment? Don’t even try lying. You know I’ll be able to tell.”

I knew that. “Not right now, but I will be in an hour.” Now that I didn’t have to worry about Father Saint James’s safety, I could shave time to get back home.

“You better be there when I track you. K, gotta go.”

I broke several traffic laws on my way back to Boston. When I reached the city limits, I glanced at my watch, groaning because I had ten minutes before Zero ran the location of my phone. I twisted the throttle, accelerating dangerously and zigzagging between the crawling cars.

My legs burned and felt like jello after I ran up eight flights of steps to my apartment. When my breathing was somewhat under control, I grabbed the extra burner phone I kept and entered three sets of numbers to my contacts: Heath, Tobias, and Zero.

Me: Hey Heath, this is Archer. Use this number instead.

Me: Hey Tobias! El Jefe might be onto me. Don’t send anything. Just call this number if you find anything.

Tobias: Fuck! Are you sure?

Me: Not really. Tell you more later.

Tobias: Stay alive.

Me: That’s the plan.

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