Page 169 of Severed Rivalry
“Why?”
“Because of my friends. Because of my teachers. We’ll all split next year. At least I can have eighth grade with my class.”
I nod. “Let’s see if we can make that work.”
Yeah, it goes by home address. Yes, it skirts the line of ethics. My daughter has been through enough. It’s a good school. It gives me more time to find the right house for us. And it’s one thing that doesn’t require change for me or Renée.
We finish up. My daughter chooses a glittery, vibrant orangefor herself and flat minty green for me. We tip extra for Renée’s outburst. We’re almost to the car when a voice stops me.
“Ms. Ocotea?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Special Agent Harold Greenwater with the FBI. May I have a moment?”
What the fuck is happening now?
49
foreknowledge
Cian
The list seems to keep getting larger, even as we scratch things off. I stare at the line items remaining. They’re the most complex. No short-term fix works for any of them.
Phoenix Consulting was thrown on the back burner, but it’s not going to make it there long. No income, nothing being built to sustain me this fall or next spring. Commercial real estate is a long game with horrendous lead times.
No excuses. I need to work on that every day or every night. Exhaustion doesn’t matter. Every day I put it off is a week of no income… or worse.
Placing a check mark near that item, I pull out my phone and begin a to-do list for the business. Emails that need to be sent. Phone calls that need to be made.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, the other line items are worse, so I should be able to build the business while the other three impossible tasks loom over me like the grim reaper himself.
My brother wants to use the girls to bait Jonas to Denver. Sever the head from the snake, if you will, allowing the people in South Dakota the freedom to choose.
There are multiple problems with this strategy. The least is that people who are in the life don’t know how to leave, and someone waits in the wings to be worse or do worse. We all knowthe stories, those who drank the Kool-Aid or those who found their own graves blindly following the leader.
Jonas has proven to be cold, brutal, calculating, and savage. As far as opponents, I’d choose one with less intelligence… and less cruelty.
Underestimating him is a dangerous mistake. He walked, bold as brass, into a crowded restaurant—and we’re not talking Olive Garden. We’re talking about a shopping center converted into a restaurant-slash-entertainment center that rivals some Vegas hotel lobbies—to kidnap at least two people.
That didn’t happen without planning or foreknowledge.
Foreknowledge.
Fuck. Howdidhe know?
Learning where Sariah lives was easy. The FBI splashed her face on every computer and TV screen as the hacker responsible for taking down a child porn ring.
But dinner? That was different. We discussed it at home. I’m sure Renée asked Emma via phone or over text, but otherwise it was all in the family.
How did Jonas know?
I grab my phone and swipe to the tracking app. Sariah is at the nail salon, the bubble never moving, but Renée? Fuck me, Renée’s bubble flies up Wadsworth.
Not again.
Grabbing my phone, I dial Liam.
