Page 56 of Scatter the Bones

“Is Jigsaw coming back later?” Paul asks me.

Even though I know they’re both aware of the nights Jigsaw spends here, heat still travels over my cheeks. “I’m not sure. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him before we left the cemetery.”

“The big one, Wrath?” Paul spreads his arms far apart like he’s trying to hug a mountain. “He said his club set up a reception at their clubhouse for Ulfric and his guys.”

Probably the one in close proximity to their strip club. Isthatwhat Jigsaw’s doing now? Hanging out with his friends in a place that smells like sweat, dollar bills, and desperation?

“All right,” Dad says. “You two get some rest. I have Ken and Bruce on call in case we receive any calls tonight.”

I didn’t realize Dad trusted those guys so much. But I’m so thankful I’m not on call tonight that I’m not going to question it.

I murmur a goodnight to Paul and my father, then slip out of the office. In my apartment, I toe off my shoes and set them neatly by the door. Gretel comes running and twines herself around my ankles.

“Mraow.”

I crouch down to pet her, running my hand over her silky fur until she’s purring like a little motorboat and rubbing her chin against my fingers.

“Are you hungry, girl?”

She lets out an irritated,“Nrrrow,”and scampers into the kitchen like I’ve failed her at every level by working all day.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait until I change.”

“Mraow.”

She follows me into my bedroom, expressing her annoyance with a chorus of tiny “Mrrrp” noises.

“I’m going, I’m going.” I strip off my suit, unbutton my blouse and pull on my thickest, softest sweatpants and hoodie. Funeral armor off. Comfort armor on.

“All right. Dinnertime.”

Gretel leaps into the air and bolts into the hallway.

She lets out a few impatient “Mrrrows” as I pop the lid off the can. She vibrates with excitement, practically dancing in place. Her purrs are so loud, it takes a second to register the low, distant rumble outside the window.

My heart jumps.

The sound grows—closer now. Deeper. Familiar.

I set the dish down and Gretel attacks the food with savageget in my bellyenergy, purring and making wet smacking noises with every bite.

Am I nuts, or is that Jigsaw’s bike?

I straighten and tilt my head toward the window.

I’ve heard dozens of Harleys today but this one sounds familiar.

The noise draws closer, then abruptly cuts off.

Normally, I’d be halfway down the stairs by now.

But tonight, I don’t feel that same magnetic pull.

Is he coming to see me? Spend the night? What explanation can he possibly have for his silence the last few days? I’ve been dying to know.

But now I’m afraid to find out.

CHAPTER TWELVE

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