Page 98 of Blind Luck

“Alexa was working with the FBI and Interpol thewhole night. At times, she acts like a lone wolf, but she knows how to play nicely with others when the need arises.”

“Did they identify the girl? They’re going to catch whoever’s doing this, right?”

“Not yet, and I certainly hope so. Alexa will call you when she’s able, but you need to leave Jackson Fuller alone. Don’t speak with him, don’t follow him, don’t tip him off. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Sin meandered in, crunching on potato chips, and she must have seen how green I looked.

“Oh, he told you?”

Erin was right behind her with a roll of paper towels. “I couldn’t find a dustpan, but Rusty’s still looking.”

Crap, she was using that overly cheerful voice she put on when she was upset but pretending she wasn’t. Had she overheard that conversation? I frantically replayed it in my mind. There was the bit about the cops, but I hadn’t mentioned red rooms on my end.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

“Erin…”

“Some girls recognised Rusty when we were out a couple of days ago, that’s all. I told them we were just friends, but now there’s a rumour on BuzzHub that I’m his girlfriend.”

“And you’re not?”

“No, I am. I know it’s irrational because the Promised Land doesn’t even have TV, but what if the Prophet sends someone to bring me back?”

“Doesn’t he have enough on his hands with sixty-seven wives?”

She shrugged. “I sure hope so.”

“Don’t worry about that weirdo,” Sin said. “We got your back.”

“You do?”

“Of course. One completely unconnected question: how do you feel about obituaries?”

Erin’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t kill the Prophet.”

“The man has wives everywhere—he isn’t going to notice one more. And they all wear those big dresses and the ugly little white bonnets. Do you know how easy it is to hide a knife in an outfit like that?”

I took a deep breath. “Maybe we could just hold off on the obituaries for now?”

A shrug, and Sin ate another handful of potato chips. “Your choice.”

CHAPTER 33

ARI

The liberation of Selene Fuller was something of an anticlimax, although Dusk said all good ops ran that way. The next phase of her life started at the Black Diamond, midway through a fundraiser for victims of domestic violence. How Jace could dare to show his face at that particular event, I had no idea, but there he was, dressed in a tux with his battered wife on his arm.

If you didn’t look beneath the surface, she was the perfect trophy wife, stunning in shimmering silver. But get up close, and you saw the slight swelling around her left eye that even the cleverest contouring couldn’t hide. The smudged gloss where she kept chewing her lip. The sadness in her big hazel eyes.

And I did get up close. Jace had never seen me, didn’t know that I was secretly plotting to gift him a divorce. Standing beside Selene at the bar, I ordered a Lady Liberty and a Good Luck Charm, and while the bartender mixed them, I put on a Southern accent and made small talk.

“I love your shoes. Are they Louboutins?”

“No, Hope & Grace.”

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