Page 63 of Help Me Remember

“Portuguese,” I said softly.

“Okay, so add Russian and Portuguese to your list of languages. Christ, what else you got locked away in that head of yours?”

I shook my head. “You’re not understanding. These aren’t just nonsense phrases, they’re…nonsense. There’s the accent marks and a couple of other tells, but it’s all…wrong.”

“How so?”

“Kind of like a word scramble, but even scrambling some of the smaller words, they don’t make actual words. It’s gibberish.”

“Kind of like a code?”

I peered up at him with a frown. “What?”

“Sounds like you were writing in Portuguese, which even I know isn’t exactly the most widespread language in the world. Also sounds like you were using a code while you were doing that. And using special phrases for other things. Layers upon layers.”

“This is…I don’t know what this is,” I admitted, flipping through the notebook. Half of it was filled, but it was all the same thing, words or phrases with no context I could glean or the scramble of nonsensical gibberish.

“Well, I can definitely tell you the Los Muertos don’t have any Portuguese in their lineup, and I’m guessing your Russian friends don’t have much to do with it either.”

“Who the fuck was I?” I asked in a low voice.

Eric reached down to take the drive from me, looking it over. “I also suspect that even if we had a computer, plugging this into it would probably be pointless.”

“It’s probably encrypted,” I agreed, closing the notebook and pushing to my feet. “Someone who writes in weird codes and hides things in secret cubbyholes wouldn’t leave an unprotected drive laying around casually.”

“Yeah,” Eric drew out with a shaky laugh. “Whatever you were doing, you were trying to be careful. I wonder what kind of information you had on this and what you were going to do with it.”

I stared at it, wondering the same thing as Eric rolled it around on his palm thoughtfully. From what we’d learned so far, I wasn’t afraid to get my hands dirty and apparently could be quite aggressive when I needed to be. One of the city’s biggest gangs knew who I was, and there was already strong evidence I’d worked alongside the Russian mafia. Two crime groups who knew me well, evidence that I was ferreting information away and taking money I knew I had stored in there before.

“Brokering?” I wondered, taking it from him and looking it over. “Fuck knows there’s plenty of people who would love to get their hands on detailed information about both groups.”

Eric cocked a brow. “Playing mole to make a quick buck?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shake of my head. “Nothing we’ve seen so far has been in my favor. On the other hand, I was willing to do things I shouldn’t have been doing, so what’s to stop me?”

Eric looked troubled, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “I don’t know. I have a hard time picturing you going freelance spy, selling information to the highest bidder.”

“Or I was working for someone else,” I said, carefully putting the notebook in my pocket. “There’s bound to be other groups that would understand Portuguese and maybe even set up the code with me.”

“You’re bound and determined to be one of the bad guys, aren’t you?” Eric asked bitterly, turning away to pick up his coffee cup.

“It’s not ‘bound and determined’ when I keep having to look the evidence in the face,” I told him stubbornly. “Maybe it’s time you did the same.”

“I’m not having this argument with you again,” Eric told me with a weary shake of his head. “Because it doesn’t matter which one of us is right. We’re both in the same boat.”

“At least until we get out of the city,” I told him. “There’s bound to be safe places where you don’t have to—”

“Whatever, sure,” Eric muttered, walking out of the room.

I didn’t follow him, mostly because I didn’t have the strength to continue arguing. The fact of the matter was we didn’t know why the Russians were trying to get their hands on me. Then again, I suppose we had found a pretty good motivator for their attack, and I was holding it in my hand.

“Who was I?” I asked the empty kitchen.

A dull thump from the other room drew my head up, and I hastily shoved the drive into my pocket. I had just reached the doorway when Eric appeared, his eyes wide.

“What?” I asked quietly.

“Three men waiting outside in a car.”

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