Chapter 13: The Call

On Tuesday night we set the trap in the back office of the diner.

It was a closet with a desk in it, and five of us were jammed inside.

Dread sat on the desk. Alec stood against the filing cabinet with the man who guarded him, a biker with a white beard and thick forearms.

Lo had put a plate of pie in front of me and told me to eat it.

I could not eat anything.

In the middle of the desk lay Alec's phone, face up, with Clint's number on the screen.

"He's expecting a call at nine," Alec said. "That's when I check in. He'll pick up on the first ring."

"And you tell him what?" Dread asked.

"That my sister is staying at the diner. That she's fighting with you. That she cried herself to sleep on a stack of flour sacks."

"Good," I said. "She did."

Nobody laughed.

"He won't ask for you," Alec said. "He'll ask what you're like right now."

"Then she's angry," Dread said. "At me. She thinks I used her in front of two hundred people."

"Didn't you?" I asked.

His eyes came up to mine. "Yes."

The white-bearded man coughed into his fist and looked at the ceiling.

At nine, Alec pressed the call button and put it on speaker.

Clint answered on the first ring. "Alec. Tell me something good."

"She's here," Alec said. His voice shook, and I saw Dread's jaw tighten. It was the right amount. "She hasn't left the room upstairs all day."

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