by Natasha Deen
My eyebrows shot up. “My what?”
“Your team. You, a climber chick, a hacker and a boxer.”
Oh boy. There were a million things wrong with this. It was one thing for us to know we were a team and doing stuff that could get us arrested, maimed or killed. But the bigger problem was that we’d obviously been visible enough when we took down our bad guys that we were now making waves. Which meant we could be tracked.
“You took down some heavy-duty bad guys, right?” Ian asked after it was clear I wasn’t going to answer him.
I respected the homeless network, but I couldn’t trust its discretion. In this world, trust could get you killed. “Maybe. Maybe not,” I replied. “Can’t say I know what you’re talking about.”
“If you did it once, you can do it again.” He stood a little straighter, his tone changing from pleading to commanding. “You can’t let Amanda and Dwayne fall.”
“I don’t have a passport,” I shot back, “so take someone else on your guilt trip. If I could help, I would.” Actually, I had an idea brewing, but I didn’t know if it would work. No point getting his hopes up.
I went to the counter and grabbed one of Clem’s business cards. “Take this. Clem’s a good guy. If you find anything out and I’m not around, let him know. He’ll pass it on.”
Ian crumpled the card, shoving it into his pocket. “Thanks for nothing,” he mumbled, then stomped away.
His gruff words hurt. Not that I showed it. One day he’d learn the rule that “ya gotta be cruel to be kind.” He was mad I wasn’t jumping in to help him, but I wasn’t going to do anything to risk his safety. I could do all the heavy lifting, sifting and asking questions on my own. I finished stocking the shelves, then went to Clem to collect my “payment”—a sack of groceries to last the week.
“I put something special in there for you,” Clem said, handing me the bag.
“That’s terrifying.”
“Soldier up, kid. It’s a Wagon Wheel. With your mouth, I figure you could use some sweetness.”
“Talk like that and I’ll never leave,” I said.
“That’s terrifying.” He gave an exaggerated shudder to prove his point.
I jerked my head in Ian’s direction. “Look out for him. His friend’s gone missing the same way Amanda did.”
“First thing you learn in the military is to spread your resources where they matter. Those kids are gone. To heaven or hell, I don’t know. But you’re better off spending your time focused on other things.”
Maybe, but I also knew the soldier’s creed: never leave a man behind.
TWO
I did have one strong hope for finding Amanda, and I put it into effect the next day. Bentley. That guy could hack the Pentagon in thirty seconds if he wanted. School was out so I figured I’d find him at his usual hangout—Tron’s grocery store on East Georgia.
I did a quick detour to my trailer for a change of clothes and gender. After two years of living on the streets and pretending to be a boy, getting in touch with my inner girl was taking some getting used to—but I was up for anything that didn’t involve baggy jeans. I headed to Tron’s and found Bentley at the ATM machine, probably hacking the system and taking money from his father’s account. Considering the hell Daddy Dearest had put him through, including numerous excruciating surgeries to “fix” his dwarfism, I didn’t blame him.
I’d helped Bentley and his brother, Jace, deal with their dad. And it hadn’t been easy. Jace had been tortured and Raven and I had almost been arrested, but the guys had found their retribution.
I stepped close and said his name.
When Bentley didn’t answer, I touched his shoulder.
He jumped a bit, then spun toward me, pulling a bud from his ear. Techno music, made tinny by the small speakers, pumped with its repetitive beat.
“I got a job for you,” I said.
“What, not even a hello, how are you, Bentley?”
“I got—”
“I heard you the first time.” He dumped his buds in the messenger bag at his feet. They fell in between the giant bags of candy and chocolate stuffed inside. “What’s the job?”
“Track a phone for me.”
Bentley rolled his eyes and hefted the bag over his shoulder. “I thought it was going to be something hard. This is playschool crap.”
“If I wanted to give you an impossible task, I would ask you to try to find your brother’s heart.”
He didn’t bother to hide his smile. “Let’s go to the park.”
I followed him out, giving the store a quick once-over for security. Tron had been good to me. Once in a while I’d test his surveillance system by shoplifting something, and then I would bring the stuff back to him. In return, he’d give me groceries. Regular kids may live for their allowance, but on the streets you’d die for food. Part of me wanted to see him one last time, to thank him for his kindness. Most of me knew it would be stupid and dangerous. Let him think the “boy” he helped had died or moved on.
Bentley and I stepped into the overcast Vancouver day, then moved to a secluded bench in the park. I gave him Amanda’s cell number and waited for Bentley to work his magic.
“Here.” He spun the laptop to face me. “The last ping was on North Lagoon Drive and Tatlow Walk.”
“Stanley Park? What was she doing there?” I leaned in. “Can you get something more specific?”
“Wouldn’t matter. The phone hasn’t been used in weeks.”
My insides went cold. She hadn’t texted me in a while, but I’d told myself there were a lot of reasons for that. Like, maybe she was sliding back into her previous life and was too ashamed to talk to me.
But Amanda was a freak about that phone. She was always texting or doing online searches or watching puppy videos. If her cell hadn’t been used at all, that could only mean big, bad things for my friend. I stood. “Okay. Thanks.”
Bentley flipped the computer closed. “You want some help? Jace—” He stopped talking as a black SUV pulled to the curb. “He’s here.”
The tinted window rolled down and revealed Bentley’s older brother. His expression was lost behind his sunglasses, but I got the distinct impression he was giving me a once-over. In a boy-likes-girl kind of way. I ignored that feeling. Just like I ignored the urge to check him out in a girl-likes-boy kind of way. Feelings weren’t anything but chemicals I reminded myself. I wasn’t about to get addicted to his drug, no matter how amazing he looked or how devoted he was to his brother.
I had enough trouble dealing with my feelings for Raven and Bentley. The more you cared for someone, the more hurt you could get. Not just by them, but by those who would use them to get to you. I didn’t need to add Jace to my already complicated life.
“He’ll help,” said Bentley. “Tell him your problem.”
Jace smirked. “Yeah, tell me your secrets and I’ll solve everything.”
And there went the fuzzy boy-girl feelings. “I’m good,” I said. “I don’t need anything from you.” I took a breath and smiled at Bentley. “You, on the other hand, I owe. Thanks for helping with the phone.”
Bentley shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Have fun, boys.” I headed away from them, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder. A few seconds later a blur of black metal broke into my peripheral vision. The SUV swooped from the road to the pavement and blocked my path. “Gimme a break,” I said as Jace rose out of the driver’s seat. “Just because your family owns most of Vancouver doesn’t give you the right to drive like a jerk.”
“Raven texted. Said she needs us at the houseboat.”
“Raven needs a lot of things. Therapy comes to mind.” I stepped around him, but Jace grabbed my hand.
I pulled out of his grasp. “Raven’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”
“She says it’s important. Code Red.”
I groaned. About a month back, we had become a team because each of us had a bad guy to bring down.
High on succes
s, we’d promised to always look out for each other. Code Red. I couldn’t ignore it.
I trudged to the SUV. “First thing we’re talking about is changing our signal. Code Red is totally cliché.”
Jace grinned. “Raven may be in serious trouble, and your priority is the words we use?”
“The last time Raven was in trouble, it involved car thefts, a dead kid and scaling the walls of buildings. Concentrating on terminology seems the safest thing to do.”
That made him laugh. “We’ll stop off at the army-supply store. Pick you up some Kevlar.”
I opened the door of the vehicle and was blasted by a wave of techno music. “Toss in some earplugs, and we’ve got a deal.”
THREE
The door swung open and Raven gaped at us. “Did I miss the invite to the reunion party?”
Okay, that was a weird way to say hello, especially since she was the one who had texted for help. But before I could ask what her problem was, Bentley pushed past. We followed him into the houseboat.
I took in the candles and the heady scent of garlic and onions in the air. And Raven. Her dark hair long and loose, a fire-red halter top and skinny jeans that hugged in all the right places. “Oh boy. If there’s an emergency, you called the wrong people, girlita. I think you were looking for the loooooove doctor—ow!” I rubbed the spot where she punched me.
“Seriously, what are you newbs doing here? And talk fast.”
“Got a text you were in dire straits.” Jace headed to a pot of spaghetti sauce bubbling away on the propane stove. He helped himself to a chunk of garlic bread on the counter and dipped it in. “Needs more basil,” he declared.
“There’s no emergency.” Raven glared at him. “But keep dissing my cooking, and we’ll have to call the paramedics.”
Jace helped himself to another piece of bread. “If you didn’t text the Code Red, who did?”
I knew. Spinning, I fixed my eyes on Bentley. “You hacked her phone. What’s going on?”
“Kids are contacting me and asking for our help. They’re in serious trouble. The kind of trouble where adults can’t—or won’t—help. A lot of times, the adult in their life is the trouble. These kids need help, and we can give it. We have the money, the skills. Raven, you can climb any building and pick any lock. Jo, you’ve got your mad art skills and can blend in anywhere. I have the tech skills, and Jace—”
“If you say he’s the brains of the operation, I’m walking,” Raven said.
“If you say he’s the brains,” I said, “I’m asking for a CT scan, an X-ray and an MRI, ’cause I’m not buying it.” I cocked my head and smiled at Jace. “Although I would argue he’s got such a thick skull we could use it as a battering ram, and he is the perfect height for reaching stuff on the top shelf.”
Jace glowered.
Bentley ignored me and kept talking. “Plus, Jace and I have the money and the clubhouse and the stuff. We’ve got the goods to help any kid. We need to do more than just sit around”—his gaze moved to the stove—“making spaghetti sauce.”
His Robin Hood speech got groans from all of us.
“For the record,” said Raven, “marinara is a lot harder to make than you think.” No one commented.
“What happened over the past few weeks was great, but we have to cool things down,” I said to Bentley. “Word is spreading, and that’s going to get us on the authorities’ radar. We can’t risk it.”
“Then why are we here?” Bentley made eye contact with each of us. “If we hadn’t joined forces and worked together, at least two of us would be dead.” He held up his phone. “It’s life-and-death for them too. You going to tell me our lives are worth more than theirs?”
That got me. I sighed. Holding out my hand, I said, “Gimme.”
“A kid’s friend is missing,” Bentley said as he gave me his cell.
I scrolled through the texts. “You guys are off the hook. This kid already contacted me. I think his friend is linked to Amanda.” I tossed the phone back to Bentley. “I’ve got this.”
“You might need our help. Some real help, not just play-school stuff like when you had me ping the cell today,” said Bentley. “I may not look like much, but I have brains and a heart, and I can make the world a better place.”
Crap. This kid could make me go soggier than a tissue left in a rainstorm. “This is street business,” I told him. “It’s dangerous—”
I held up my hand as he opened his mouth to protest. “I’m not arguing your heart, your skills or your brain. I am saying that you live in a five-thousand-square-foot mansion, and that’s just one of your many, many houses. You can do a lot of things, Bentley, but street fighting isn’t one of them.”
I had to get out of there. “Have a nice dinner,” I said as I headed for the door.
Raven stopped me. “You sure you want to ice us out?” she asked, her voice low.
I glanced at the guys. Bentley, head bent, jaw hard. Jace, protective as he leaned into his brother’s ear and quietly talked.
“Come on, Raven. The streets would eat these guys alive. Jace, maybe he’d get out with a broken jaw and ribs. But you know what would happen to Bentley. You know what the scum element will do to anyone who’s different.”
She cast a worried eye over our friends.
“The streets are just roads they drive down,” I said, “but for you and me, they’re the roof and walls we call home. We know how to stay safe. They don’t.”
“Fine, but I can help—”
“And risk whatever’s left of the car-theft gang coming after you? Forget it.”
“Jo—”
“How about this? Let me do the first round, okay? I’ll call you in if I get in over my head.” I squeezed her hand. Smiled big. Then, to make sure she didn’t pick up on the fact I hadn’t promised to call, I said, “Water Charlie. That weed looks like it needs water.”
“It’s a begonia, and you know it.”
“Weed.” I stepped through the door before she could think too hard on what I had said.
“Flower!” Her voice followed me into the darkening night.
I wanted to get to Amanda’s last known location, the spot her cell had placed her. It was a stupid waste of time. I knew she wouldn’t be there, knew I wouldn’t find any evidence of her.
Amanda was a creature of habit. I had never known her to hang out on Lagoon Drive. Still, I wanted to go stand on the same spot and see if I could figure out what had made her go there.
Odds were, it was probably that guy. The one she had fallen in love with. Just like she fell in love with any guy who smiled her way. But I didn’t have much to go on. She’d told me he was someone who had lived on the streets but had managed to get off them. And he was going to help her do the same thing. Thanks to her so-called savior, she had enrolled in night school and had talked about moving into a halfway house. But now she was gone, capital-G gone. And I was sure her boyfriend was behind her disappearance.
The question was, was she gone because he had pushed her back into her old prostituting ways, or had something else happened? I didn’t know, and either possibility filled me with dread.
FOUR
Before I started scouting for Amanda again, there was something else I had to do. I had to help out the other folks who relied on me. Some homeless people didn’t mind soup kitchens or coming in from the cold and bunking in a shelter. But some were too old, too scared, too starved of hope to move from the cold corners and dark alleys they called home. I headed to the streets and handed out boxes and cans of food from the bag of groceries Clem had given me. The Wagon Wheel I kept for myself. Clem and I weren’t into declarations of friendship and affection, but I knew what the treat meant.
After I’d given out the last can and gotten a grateful smile in return, I turned my attention to my missing friend. No surprise, I had no luck. If there had been any trace of Amanda, the rain, sand and visitors to the water had erased all of it.
I headed back to the community kitchen. F
igured I’d let Clem know he’d been right—he’d love that. I also figured I could use his military background. Maybe he’d see something in the circumstances of Amanda’s disappearance that I’d missed. When I got there, he was on the phone. He pivoted, looked at me, then gave me a come here wave.
“Yeah,” he said to the person on the phone. “I’ll be there.” He ended the call, then shoved his cell in his back pocket. “You’re with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Morgue.”
“Disco’s dead and they need you to identify the corpse?”
“Your snark would be a lot more believable if your voice didn’t catch.”
“That’s not emotion,” I said as I followed him out the door. “That’s a reaction to your cologne.”
“Maybe I should leave you here.”
I put my hands up in a surrender gesture. “I’m raising the white flag.” If I wanted to tag along, I’d better let him have this round. “Sorry, boss.”
Clem’s SUV chirped as he unlocked the doors. I climbed into the passenger seat. “So tell me again, why are we going to the morgue?”
“They found a body with my business card on it.” He started the car and pulled out of the lot.
My breath escaped in a fast whoosh. “I gave Ian your card yesterday.”
“Yeah.” His voice was grim. “And the body’s male.” He glanced over at me briefly and then went back to watching the road. “There’s something else.”
I braced myself.
“The coroner said they’ve got a few Jane and John Does, bodies that haven’t been claimed. He figures they’re homeless. Thought we could help identify some.”
“Yeah.” I kept my voice steady. “No problem.”
“You sure you’re up to this, kid? Prepared for what you might find?”
I nodded. Ever since I’d succeeded in finding justice for my family, the days had seemed brighter, the world more hopeful. Not anymore. The sun was setting, and the world was growing cold.
We drove the rest of the way in silence. Parked in silence. Filled out the paperwork in silence. Went to the quiet room with the curtained window and the smell of disinfectant.
