Page 24 of Inferno

The way Julio had relentlessly shown up every day to walk her to the school bus. He’d pretty much claimed her and never let go. Until she forced his hand.

If Romeo wanted to convince Bristol he was interested enough to be serious, it was up to him to do it. He didn’t have to prove he was worthy of her. More like that he considered her worth the effort it would take to win her over.

As for her and Julio…

Different thing entirely.

Life always seemed to tear them apart. But when they came back together, they were all-in. Julio might have intentionally staked his claim at that fire scene, whether he’d been fully in control of himself or not. He’d made the first move.

If anything was going to happen, it was up to her to take the next step.

Or walk away for good.

NINE

Richard pushed a shopping cart down the aisle in the big box hardware store, more proof that multinational corporations took all the heart out of retail. This stuff was generic and poorly made, as though all this company cared about was making as much off the consumer as possible.

Gone were the days of quality workmanship, integrity in business, or caring about the customer.

Things just weren’t the same anymore. Not like they used to be.

He added a couple of tubes of caulk to his cart, beside the insulation and duct tape. A couple of PVC pipes, and he should be done.

Richard found those easily enough. The employee with the vest who was on his phone didn’t even offer to help him find what he was looking for.

When he rolled up to the checkout, the attendant made eye contact. “How’s it going?”

Richard had to be perfectly unremarkable. Thanks to genetics, he figured it worked. The man he looked like right now was a nobody in a line of nobodies that came through here. Evenif the police talked to the cashier, he probably wouldn’t be able to remember much about Richard.

“Fine, thanks.” He nodded, then turned away to shift items in his cart so the guy could scan each one. “How’s it going with you?”

Beep.“Can’t complain.”Beep.“Friday, so not as bad as it could be.”

“Exactly.”

“Got any plans for the weekend?” The cashier looked around his cart. “Looks like an interesting job.”

“Couple of different ones, actually.”

The guy nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Just some odd jobs around town.”

“Handyman. Nice.” The guy rang him up.

Richard paid with cash so it left no record. The police wouldn’t bother running fingerprint tests. Too much work on the off chance they’d be able to find his print on a bill—which they wouldn’t. The results would just net them a bunch of partials, and random matches that made no sense and would take days or weeks to sort through.

“Here you go.”

He accepted the change and the receipt. “Thanks.”

With any luck, this man would barely remember him. Any security footage would show a guy at least fifty pounds heavier than him, with completely different hair. No shot of his earlobes, so they wouldn’t be able to ID him that way.

He knew what the police and the feds could do. And though he’d drawn the line at prosthetics, it didn’t matter. They had no way to find him. No trace. No leads. No hope of stopping him.

Everything had been designed to outsmart them, and he would succeed.

Richard pushed the cart out, through the sliding doors. The line for the food truck outside stretched nearly in front of thedoors. He shoved around a couple of guys who looked like landscapers and headed for his car.

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