Page 115 of The Wicked

Three weeks passed. Colt and Luca reviewed the evidence, including an off-the-record interview with Gracie. Tiny seeds were planted in two separate plots, although I felt guilty that we might be asking Nico to get involved, seeing as he’d dealt with quite enough problems already in the past month. His new girlfriend had brought quite the shitstorm with her to Baldwin’s Shore, which at least meant people had stopped gossiping about the pool house incident.

On the positive side, it seemed more likely than ever that the Bad Samaritan was either Nico or Deck. Even though Nico swore he’d had a conversation with the man on one drama-filled afternoon, Luca was convinced it was a cover story, that Nico was trying to throw people off the scent.

I incorporated SBF Events with the Oregon Business Registry, and on the days I wasn’t filling in at the Craft Cabin, I plotted out my professional future. Oh, and Garrett bought a house in Baldwin’s Shore, because apparently that was a normal thing that people did when their bank balance was bigger than a phone number.

It was only a small place, and it needed renovation—the roof leaked in the kitchen and a family of raccoons had made themselves at home under the porch—but it was cute, and the view over the ocean soothed my soul. I’d only been a tiny bit annoyed when I found out the deed was in my name. Garrett said he wanted me to have a home, one that didn’t come with strings attached. Although there would be rope. And handcuffs. He didn’t want to stay at the family estate in Roseburg right now, not when Graham Mandell might show up, not when he couldn’t throat-punch that slimeball.

As part of our deadly pact, we’d agreed to stay silent about everything we knew, at least for a few weeks. Aaron had tucked the hard drive away in his safe. Garrett had called off his investigators. Jack Morrow and his team were still on my tail, but now I found their presence reassuring rather than exasperating.

And we waited.

Johannes had returned to Oregon, and I finally met him and his girlfriend, a statuesque blonde who spoke six languages and appeared to be allergic to underwear. Johannes offered to paint me. Garrett offered to break his nose.

Gracie sent me shoes, the most beautiful dance shoes, blue and sparkly and modelled on the pair I’d worn the night I met Charming. I wore them on a trip to Casa de Salsa, and while my toes survived two hours of dancing, in the battle of migraine versus mojito, the alcohol won. Charming carried me to the car, and a chauffeur drove us back to the Peninsula, which was where we were staying until our new home was ready to move into. Yes, the Peninsula. After some consideration, I’d decided that if Nico really was this Bad Samaritan, then we were probably safer there than anywhere else, especially since he knew what Seth Harless looked like. Brie was back in town too, and she had her own security. Jack Morrow was coordinating with Kasper, the head of her team, so we didn’t end up with all the men in one place.

The day before yesterday, I’d met Parker for lunch in Coos Bay, Italian this time, and caught up on the latest gossip about the twins. Apparently, they’d been served with the lawsuit Parker was expecting, and both Aaron and Asa Phillips had declined to represent them. They were stuck with a guy from Coquille who kept asking difficult questions likeDid you read the email from March seventeenth that listed the dietary requirements and included details of the peanut allergy?I could have answered that for them: of course they hadn’t. Operation Inheritance was apparently on track apart from the tricky problem of EJ.

Today, I was at the Coffee House with Brooke for lunch when our phones pinged, first hers and then mine. The message was the same.

Aaron

Dinner at my place tonight?

A moment later, I got another message.

Garrett

Aaron wants us to go to dinner at Deals on Wheels.

Even though the car dealership had closed years ago, everyone still called the building by its old name, including Aaron and Brooke.

She grinned at me. “If Aaron’s cooking, the answer is always yes.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have had that third donut.”

Having a social life instead of merely facilitating other people’s was a novelty. I was still settling into this new normal, but I never wanted it to end.

* * *

“Before I take the lasagne out of the oven, I need to show you something.” Aaron beckoned us toward his study. There were six of us there for dinner tonight—Aaron and Blue, Brooke and Luca, and Garrett and me. “It’s good news and bad news.”

“Can we just skip the bad part?” I asked.

“It’s kind of the same thing.”

He punched in the code to open the safe, and the first thing I saw was the empty space where the hard drive had once been. In its place was a note, a single folded piece of paper with a smiley face on the outside.

“Where is it? Where’s the hard drive?”

“Gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

He removed the note and unfolded it. There were only two words, written in neat black capital letters.

BE PATIENT

“The Bad Samaritan took it.”

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