Trust Me, I'm Trouble

by Mary Elizabeth Summer

  There’s no applause at the end of Dr. Raktabija’s speech, but a pervasive and profound feeling of respect and resolve moves through the room. Joseph leans forward in his seat, trying to control an overflow of emotion. Even Ackley seems affected, though he could easily be putting on a front to throw me off.

  After the meeting, I corner Ackley outside the men’s room. “How are you holding up?” I ask.

  “At least I can use this travesty for my college essays.”

  I fake-smile. “Always thinking, aren’t you? Awesome. I was wondering whether they’ll be continuing our summer internships after all this?”

  “Why wouldn’t they? Joseph needs us even more now. He’s been promoted to Dr. Raktabija’s second-in-command.”

  “Really? I hadn’t heard that. Interesting. That’s quite the jump from internship coordinator, isn’t it?”

  Ackley shrugs. “If you’re valuable, you get promoted. That’s how it works in business.”

  Okay, Ackley, are you just a naive, arrogant douche bag, or are you trying to play me into believing you’re a naive, arrogant douche bag when really you’re a conniving murderer?

  Adding an undercurrent of melancholy to my voice, I say, “Did you get to see Duke? You know, that last day?”

  “On Friday?” Ackley asks, barely managing to keep his voice neutral. Beads of sweat appear on his upper lip. “No,” he lies. “I meant to go up and ask him a question. He said we could. But I didn’t get around to it before we left for happy hour.”

  Ah, yes. Happy hour. How did you get out of that? Make some excuse about leaving something at the office? Your gun, perhaps?

  “Oh, well. It’s probably for the best,” I say, dropping my gaze. “It’s harder now without him.” That part is less a lie than I’d like it to be. I gesture in the direction of the intern pen. “I guess I’d better get back there. See you in a few.”

  “Wait,” Ackley says as I move away. His eyes flick nervously around the hallway. “I heard something was taken. From Duke, I mean.”

  “Really?” I say, freezing midstep. Could it really be this easy?

  “Yeah.” He drops his voice a few decibels. “A blue pixie…or something? Out of curiosity, did you ever see him with it? You were in his office for that workshop development project.”

  Now, I could do a number of things at this stage of the game. I could tell Ackley I didn’t see it, keep him at a distance, delaying the inevitable in a “did she or didn’t she?” dance. Or I could tell him I have it and see what he does. But Dani would have a conniption if I do, and besides, I’m not quite ready for the fallout from that yet. I need to know who he’s working for and why. So I go for option number three: Show him a glimpse of the lady, then make him work to find it—the three-card monte.

  “I did see it,” I say. “Or at least, I think so. He had something like that on his desk when I was there. I noticed it because he kept looking at it.”

  “Oh. Maybe it’s just in a drawer somewhere, then.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I say, letting my voice hang a little heavy with significance. If Ackley is crooked, he’ll hear it and make a play. “Though if I were Duke, I’d keep it on me.” Telling the truth like it’s a lie.

  He licks his lips. “Are you going to the wake tomorrow?”

  “I didn’t know about it,” I say.

  It’s almost too easy. I can see my suggestion taking root in his mind….I’d keep it on me. If he has half a brain, he’ll try to steal the blue fairy from me at the wake. Too bad for him I’ll be leaving it at the Ramirezes’. Meanwhile, he makes any kind of move on me at the wake, and I’ll have him.

  “Right, you were late,” Ackley says. “Joseph told us about his promotion and the wake before we went to the auditorium for Dr. Raktabija’s speech.”

  “Oh, okay, I’ll be there,” I say. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  He nods an awkward thank-you and turns toward the men’s room.

  “Hey, Ackley. Where is the wake going to be?”

  “Bar63,” he says, and then steps through the door.

  “You sure you don’t want more, Sam?” Angela says, offering him the plate of empanadas.

  Sam holds up a hand, warding them off. “No, thanks. I think I had my share, plus half of Mike’s.”

  “I heard that!” Mike yells from the kitchen.

  We’re sitting on the Ramirezes’ back deck, enjoying the coolness of the evening. Or rather, Angela, Mike, and Sam are enjoying the coolness of the evening. I’m obsessing about the connection between NWI and Bar63.

  “Julep?” Angela says, turning the plate in my direction and not quite hiding the worry in her eyes. I feel guilty, because I barely managed to choke down one empanada. And not for lack of deliciousness on the part of Angela’s cooking.

  “I’m good, thanks,” I say.

  “You seem sort of distracted, actually,” she says.

  “I’m just struggling with something work-related. I’m okay.”

  “Anything we can help with?”

  I carefully avoid looking at Sam. “I don’t think so. Thanks, though.”

  “All right,” she says, touching my shoulder. “I’ll just take these in before the flies carry them off.”

  Sam nudges my chair leg with his foot. “What’s eating you? I haven’t heard you this quiet since that time Jimmy Kendricks bet you five dollars you couldn’t shut up for five minutes.”

  I glare at him. “It was thirty minutes, jerk.”

  “Okay, thirty minutes,” he says, smiling. “The question still stands.”

  “I’m just so frustrated. It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing fits. I’m not a detective, Sam. And I’m missing stuff because of it. I can feel it.”

  He leans forward, toward me. “So hand it over to the people who actually are detectives, who have the resources to figure it all out for you.”

  “If I do that, I risk you going to prison. They can’t find out about your role in all this.”

  “That’s my problem, Julep. I made the choice I did for a reason, and I’m not sorry I did.”

  I shake my head. “You’re a sentimental idiot, but I won’t have you going to prison for it. No cops.” We fall silent for a few seconds before I get up the nerve to ask, “What did she say to you? What did she sound like? Why didn’t she come to me?” About fifteen other questions crowd my brain, but I force them back. I know that letting myself care is a recipe for disaster, but I can’t help it.

  Sam looks down at his hands. “She sounded scared. She said she needed my help. That you needed my help. I couldn’t say no.”

  “Probably because you have no common sense whatsoever.”

  He chuckles ruefully. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

  “But why did she insist you keep it a secret from me?”

  “She didn’t have to give me a reason. I would have kept you out of it anyway.”

  “It’s my family, Sam. My responsibility.”

  Sam frowns. “It’s technically your parents’ responsibility. But I’ll overlook that and go straight to we’ve been friends since the fourth grade. We’ve been there for each other since before either of us even knew what that meant. So the last thing I’m going to do is let you shoulder this thing by yourself.”

  I do know that, and despite him leaving me last year when I really needed him, I’d do the same for him.

  “I get what you’re saying,” I say. “But still, she gave you a reason not to tell me. I need to know what it is.”

  He pauses for a long moment. “She said if you found her, you would lose your father.”

  I sigh. “Shows what she knows. I’ve already lost my father.”

  The sound of the Chevelle’s engine grows in the distance, which means Dani is getting close. I hadn’t expected to see her tonight, so either she couldn’t stay away from me, or, and more likely, she has bad news. But I’ve had so much bad news lately that a little more won’t hurt, and the thought that I get to see her makes my heart flip. Queen
of messed-up priorities—that’s me.

  “You’re into her, aren’t you?” Sam asks.

  I don’t answer because I don’t need to. If he’s asking, he already knows, and me answering will just open the door for him to get all judgy about it. And in any case, it’s none of his business.

  “You’re a total moron, you know that, right?” he says.

  “Yep. I am well aware.”

  “She’s a mob enforcer.”

  I’m starting to get exceptionally tired of having this conversation. “I’m a criminal, too, Sam. We’re all criminals, remember?”

  “You are a fixer. I am a hacker. We skirt the law. We don’t obliterate it by murdering people.”

  “I know what she does, but it’s not who she is. And it won’t change how I feel anyway. I’m too far gone for that.”

  Only I know him well enough to see the slight tightening in his features that says he’s fighting a wince. Seeing it makes me both sad and angry.

  “It’s impossible, Julep. You have to see that. Tell me you see that.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I grumble, annoyed that I have to say this out loud. “She won’t let anything happen.”

  “Thank god,” he says, relieved.

  I glower at him. “Don’t get too comfy in your moral superiority, there, Sam. At least she stayed.”

  “Julep—” He tries to touch me, but I stand up and out of reach.

  “Just do your job, Sam, and I’ll do mine.” Then I turn to march inside, but Dani is there before I have the chance.

  “Get in the house,” she says. “Both of you.”

  Sam and I head straight for the house without question. Dani scans the fence line as she waits for us to cross the threshold. Then she slams and locks the door behind her, drawing the curtains.

  “What’s going on?” Mike says, taking out his phone.

  Dani pulls me to the center of the room, away from all the windows. “Someone has picked up the contract.”

  Angela’s face turns a few shades paler. I’m sure mine is a match. I think about my close call at the quarry and start trembling again, damn it.

  “Do you know who?” Mike asks.

  “Yes,” Dani says, as she closes the blinds in the living room. “His name is Spade. He is not just a professional. He is the professional you call if you are not getting results.”

  Mike rubs his face. “I’ve heard of him. From D.C., right?”

  “D.C., Los Angeles, Istanbul. He is a force of nature.”

  “Fabulous,” I say, hugging my soon-to-be-dead self. “Do you suppose it’s too late to take out a life insurance policy?”

  • • •

  “Really, Dani, you don’t need to come in with me,” I say as we troop up the sidewalk toward Bar63. “There’ll be a huge crowd. It’s not like Ackley’s going to pull a gun on me or anything.”

  “It is not Ackley I am worried about. Crowds can be just as much cover as darkness if used correctly,” she says. “I am not letting you out of my sight.”

  “I suppose I can live with that,” I say, smiling. “This disability has interesting side effects.”

  She growls at me. “This is not a joke.”

  “I know,” I say, laying a hand on her arm. “And I’m grateful for your help. I am. But lighten up a little, all right?” Urban streets give way to neck-craning skyscrapers and when we get to Bar63, we bump right into Aadila.

  “Who’s this?” Aadila asks, gesturing to Dani.

  I loop my arm through Dani’s. “This is my girlfriend, Dani.” Then I beam up at her to see her reaction. She turns eight shades of red and glares at me when Aadila turns to the bar to get us a couple of glasses of something sparkling.

  “Nice to meet you, Dani,” Aadila says vaguely, her attention already elsewhere. She gestures at the mike set up in the corner. “They’re doing these lame toasts to Duke. Anyone can jump in, so feel free.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” I say. “Where is everybody?”

  Aadila gestures with her chin to where Joseph is sitting in shadow, nursing a glass of water. He looks listless and rough. Duke’s death is hitting him particularly hard.

  “I should go over and check on him,” I say to Dani. “Keep Aadila company for a minute?”

  Her glare sharpens for a second, but then she nods. It’s not like she can’t see me from the bar.

  “This seat taken?” I ask as I slide in next to Joseph.

  He shakes his head. He glances at me briefly but then goes back to staring at his water glass, looking for answers that I know from experience aren’t there.

  “I lost a friend once,” I say. “A good friend. It almost wrecked me.” For once I allow the full feeling of those months after Tyler’s death to infuse my voice. “I have to admit, Dr. Raktabija’s theory about the light never really worked for me.”

  “What did work for you?” Joseph asks.

  I meet his eyes, letting mine tell the truth. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

  He swallows hard. I put my hand on his arm—it’s all I can do. And it’s not nearly enough, because if I’m right about Ackley, then it’s my family’s fault Duke is dead. Whatever’s on that flash drive has to do with my family, and Duke could still be alive if he hadn’t gotten involved.

  “I need to go.” Joseph gets up quickly and walks to the other room. I don’t follow. Instead, I go back to where Dani is sitting with Aadila, who is apparently chattering her head off about Dani’s Chevelle.

  “Having fun?” I ask her.

  “You are the luckiest— How did you not tell me that you get to ride in a 1969 mint-condition Chevelle on a daily basis? Do you have any idea how cool that car is? You don’t, do you? Oh, the waste!”

  “Well, I know how cool it is now. Besides, the Chevelle and I have a terrific relationship based on mutual respect and understanding.”

  Aadila rolls her eyes at me. “You are so weird sometimes.”

  “That is an understatement,” Dani pipes up. I elbow her in the ribs for her trouble.

  “Speaking of things that are beautiful, have you seen that guy before?” Aadila asks, pointing surreptitiously at Sam.

  I’d laugh, but then I’d have to explain myself. “Um, he’s an initiate, I think. A new one.”

  “Weren’t you working on the initiate files?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s referring to the files I rifled through in the document room.

  “His wasn’t in there, I don’t think. Not that I remember anyway. Why? Are you interested?” I ask, starting to feel annoyed. I’m not here to facilitate Sam’s love life.

  “He’s too old for me, I’m sure. I was just curious if you knew him. Maybe he has a younger brother.”

  Nope. Just Sam. No siblings. Tough luck. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  Aadila makes a face. “No way. I don’t really care about this internship, but I don’t want to lose it in disgrace for hitting on an initiate. Even if I’m not really hitting on him.”

  Okay, this conversation is officially getting weird. Time to redirect. “Who else is here?” I ask.

  Aadila shrugs. “Everybody. Ackley’s coming late. Something about a doctor’s appointment. Whatever.”

  “Wait, what?” I say, heart suddenly pounding. “Ackley’s not here?”

  “Nope, and I can’t say I’m super sorry to be missing his smug…What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Oh, nothing. Just got a little dizzy. I’m going to go sit down for a minute.”

  I grab Dani’s arm and tow her over to the bench Joseph vacated. My fingers fly over my phone screen as I text Sam to meet us outside immediately.

  “Change of plan,” I say to Dani, trying to keep my voice as low as possible in the din. “We have to get out of here.”

  Dani, bless her, isn’t a question asker. She swings immediately into action, threading through the crowd to the door.

  “Ackley’s craftier than I thought,” I say when we catch up with Sam. “He never showe
d. He must have figured out I was playing him.”

  “How do you know?” Sam asks as we head to our cars. “Maybe he just ditched the wake.”

  “I can’t take that risk. I have to assume he’s searching the Ramirezes’ house,” I say, sending a text to Angela.

  “Why there? Why not Salinger’s office?”

  “Because the flash drive isn’t at the office. I have to act on the possibility he’s anticipated me and…” I dial Angela’s cell—no answer. “That’s not the worst of it. God, I am such an idiot.” I dial the house phone—still no answer. “Angela’s there by herself. Mike’s working late tonight.”

  My phone pings with a text from Lily. I need to talk to you. I dismiss it.

  “What about the FBI detail?” Sam yanks open the driver’s-side door of his Volvo.

  I rush past him toward the Chevelle. “The FBI is there only when I am—after five and on weekends.”

  Once we’re in and buckled up, Dani floors it. The Chevelle’s tires squeal as we swerve into traffic, cutting off a BMW SUV. Sam’s Volvo weaves into the lane right behind us. The roar from the Chevelle’s engine does little to calm my racing heart. If anything happens to Angela, I’ll never forgive myself.

  Sam and Dani slice through the tail end of rush-hour traffic on 290, driving on the shoulder when necessary. It must look like we’re in a race against each other, when really we’re racing the clock. If Ackley gets to the blue-fairy flash drive before we do, we’ll lose what little upper hand we have. Plus, there’s no telling what could happen to Angela if she tries to interfere.

  Ackley didn’t seem that dangerous, not really, but I know nothing about the people he’s working for. And if he is searching the Ramirezes’ for the blue fairy, then I’ve already gravely underestimated him. I am such an idiot. I thought going up against Duke was the challenge. But Duke was never the problem. I’ve been looking in the wrong place the whole time.

  Dani swerves to avoid a semi, then shifts into fifth again. “Five more minutes.”

  Sam maneuvers ahead of us and switches lanes, slowing down to let us in just before we reach the off-ramp that leads to Mike and Angela’s. We speed through the red light, taking the corners fast enough to make even the Volvo sweat.