Page 114 of Brazen Mistakes

Walker must see the fear in my face, and while he doesn’t know where it’s coming from, he rushes to clarify.

“I taught Clara our codes. She said to tell you there are blueberry muffins, hot coffee, and donut holes downstairs for you. The cop is none the wiser.”

My shoulders relax. A dangerous meeting with a cop, message received. I knew she wouldn’t endanger me that way. “I’ll head down then. You’re going up to finish decorating?”

“As soon as I figure out where Jansen left the ladder, yup.”

“He didn’t leave it someplace weird. Trips took it over to the new house.”

“Fucker.”

I choke out a laugh. “Take it up with him. I’ve got a pretty girl to accompany to a police interrogation.”

“Interrogation? Because she’s getting stalked? That shit’s fucked up.”

“It’s probably nothing,” I say, encouraging Walker out of my room and locking it up, especially if there’s a cop on-site. “But I’ll be there no matter what.”

Walker looks like he wants to ask something else, but I’m already halfway down the stairs. When I make it to the front hallway, I’m not happy to see the cop inside, a few steps from Jansen’s meditation space. It might be winter, but he should have to stay on the other side of the front door unless he has a warrant.

Clara must have had a reason to let him in, though, and it can’t be simple good manners. It’s not like she’s sat him on the couch with tea and crumpets. Her posture relaxes as she sees me on the stairs, but she doesn’t call out for me. How am I supposed to play this? Acting is not something I’m good at. It’s only one of many reasons I stay in the van.

Luckily, she saves me from my waffling. “Hey, RJ. The blueberry muffins and hot coffee are in the living room, if you want to grab some.”

Okay. Go through the doorway and eavesdrop. That I can do. I give her and the cop a single nod, then leave the hallway and stomp into the living room. But then I turn, using all the skills I’ve perfected to stay silent as I inch back to just outside either of their lines of sight. And I realize that’s why she let him in the house—so I could eavesdrop.

“Are you interested?” the cop says, his voice gruff.

“You haven’t given me a good idea what exactly I’m signing up for. I don’t do this lightly, and I sure as hell won’t do it blindly. Do you have a copy of the contract for me to review?”

So fierce. Even while she’s fraying at the seams, she’s still braver than anyone I’ve met. Stupid brave, Trips would call her.

Only, she’s still at the beginning of this journey. She’s going to make mistakes. But unlike all of us, she has someone there to catch her when she falls. Four someones.

There’s rustling, then silence.

The cop must lean against the wall, the sound of his parka crackling as it crumples on contact. We both wait for Clara to review the document, and I desperately want to be there reading over her shoulder. Because she’s technically informing on me. She’ll find a way to skirt that, but it’s true. I’m the criminal she’s going to snitch on.

Closing my eyes, I say one of my rare prayers, asking for this not to blow up in my face. I can’t go to jail. Too many people are counting on me. Too much is at stake.

Including the kids this choice might protect.

“It looks good to me, but I’d like to take it to a lawyer to review the terms before I sign it.”

The cop clicks his tongue, and my hands curl into fists.

“My boss doesn’t even think you have anything worth pursuing, so he gave you boilerplate terms. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask why you want to do this.”

Clara takes a minute before she answers, her voice clear, confident. “I was barely eighteen when I fell victim to a predator. And that makes me one of the lucky ones. If I can help even one of the unlucky ones, it’ll be worth it.”

“And how the hell do you even plan to get that information? Even I can tell you’re not a hardened madam or some shit.”

The cop almost sounds annoyed at Clara, like he’d prefer she were running girls herself. Is it so weird for someone to walk between worlds the way Clara does?

“I told you. I know how to listen at hypothetical digital doors. And there’s good intel behind those doors. I can’t do anything with it. But maybe you can.”

“You’re a hacker?”

She laughs, bright, hardly forced. If I didn’t know the cadence of her laugh as well as my own, I’d think it was real. “No. My hacking skills go only as far as one pirated textbook last year. I won’t say more about how I’m getting this. Just know that it’s case worthy. Dates, numbers, names, and even those horrible pictures and videos. All you’re going to have to do is verify what I give you.”

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