Page 82 of Aftermarket Afterlife

“No, sadly. But the fact remains: any attack on Penton will come with unanticipated casualties.”

Great. One more thing for me to worry about. Maybe it’s heartless of me, but they had already attacked two locations containing my kids, and if it was mine or theirs, I’d prefer to avoid any further casualties on our side. “If we do it anyway, if we take the fight to them, how much do we damage their operation?” I asked. “Would they have to withdraw their American attacks?”

“I think, if we were to ensure they knew we were behind their troubles, they would pull back to regroup, if not abandon the idea of attacking us entirely,” said Thomas, words slow and deliberate, like each one was being selected with the utmost care. “There is a point beyond which the cost of their choices would seem to be too great.”

“That was my thought on the matter,” I said. “Can we sit down and talk about Penton for a little while? I’ll do my best to figure out how we can minimize collateral damage, but this has to stop, and the only way it does is by them accepting that attacking us is too expensive. We need to put ourselves out of their price range.”

“All right,” said Alice. “Let’s talk.”

• • •

Alice had never actually been to Penton Hall, but she was used to laying traps and—more importantly—setting detonation charges, and proved surprisingly helpful at identifying the weak points in the structure Thomas described to the pair of us. She took notes the whole time, pen moving fast over a plain white notebook, leaving instructions behind. Thomas stole peeks at what she was writing and occasionally offered mild corrections, the two of them falling back into the patterns of research they had developed during their years together in Buckley. It was incredibly reassuring to see. If they could find their way back to each other and then all the way home, it felt like there was a chance for all manner of impossible things to happen.

Maybe, for all our losses, a happy ending would eventually be something we could wrest from the world. Maybe we could win.

We talked for about an hour, me asking questions and Thomas giving answers while Alice wrote everything down, and by the time we were done, I felt much better about our chances of success. It was still going to be a long shot, but at this point it was a long shot with a big bull’s-eye we could aim for. I rose from the chair where I’d settled, looking between them.

Ireallydidn’t want to go to Ohio right now, and if there was any chance Alex was going to pick up, I’d take it.

“Does either of you have a phone?” I asked.

“I do,” said Alice. “New one from Uncle Al. No GPS or trackers on it.”

“I still don’t understand how you’re all so casual about carrying private communication devices with you everywhere you go,” said Thomas, somewhat dourly. “I remember when Alice couldn’t even call me for fear of the operators listening in and ruining her reputation, and now you’re running around with portable telephones that are so common you’ve started using them as tracking devices.”

“Which means they can still ruin your reputation, it just takes a bit more work,” said Alice, fishing the phone out of her pocket. She offered it to me. “Lock screen is three-five-three-two,” she said. “Kids, biological grandkids, adopted grandkids, great-grandkids.”

“Where are you counting Isaac?”

“Adopted grandkids,” she said. “If he’s going to be Sarah’s brother—”

“Which we’re pretty sure he is, biologically speaking,” I said.

“—it makes sense to put him in the column with her,” she finished.

“That does actually make sense,” I agreed, unlocking the phone. The wallpaper was a picture of Thomas and Sally standing outside a gas station with a desert landscape stretching out behind them, Nevada at its finest—and driest. I smiled briefly as I pulled up her address book.

As I’d been more than half-hoping, she had already input all the grandkids’ numbers, and I was able to select Alex’s name without needing to take the time to key it in. I clicked, raised the phone to my ear, and waited.

There are some ghosts who can travel via phone lines, becoming disembodied voices in the ears of their targets. If that’s something you can learn, it’s not something I’ve ever really seen the point in doing; I get around just fine without it, thanks awfully. The phone rang. I waited.

Alex picked up just before his voicemail would have kicked in. “Hello, who is this?” he asked, voice dull despite its interrogative tone.

“This is your grandmother’s new number, but it’s your babysitter calling,” I said. “How are you, buddy?”

“Holding it together as best as I can,” he said. “Verity doesn’t want us to come to New York. Says it would be dangerous for the children, and she’s probably right, but she’s also my baby sister, and I want to be there for her. I hate this, Mary. I hate everything about it. Make it go away.”

“We’re working on it,” I said, as soothingly as I could. “I called because I might have an opening for a new client—do you have a number for Dee?”

“My assistant, Dee? She doesn’t have any kids, and she’s a little busy at the moment...”

“But she does. You’re proof that I don’t have an age restriction, upper or lower. I can take care of Lottieandyour octogenarian grandmother. Megan’s her kid. If she hires me, that makes me responsible for Megan’s welfare, and Megan can call for me. More generally, she can call for help, and I can answer.”

Alex paused. “Do you really think that will work?”

“I honestly don’t know, Alex. We’re clutching at metaphysical straws here. Can I take on more clients, or am I the sort of haunting that only happens to one family at a time? I’m not concerned about breaking my tie to our family by forging another one—if that were going to happen, I would have started losing people a long time ago, right around when Angela decided to bring a stray home from Lowryland. What Idoknow is that there was an attack on the house, the Carmichael hotel, and the gorgon Fringe, which implies that someone with intimate knowledge of the gorgon community has been compromised, and Megan’s known as an associate of Annie’s.”

“What does Annie have to do with any of this?”

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