The Misters Series (Mister #1-7)

by J. A. Huss

  I lock myself inside and turn on the server. While I wait for the internet to boot up, I turn on the TV and calm myself by watching the news sites and checking Katya’s phone. Our faces are all over the networks. It sickens me to see the old charges mentioned again. But it’s necessary. How will I ever travel with Katya if this baggage is dragging behind us?

  The server makes some clicking noises that tells me it’s connected, and I open the phone app I use to communicate with him.

  He picks up on the third ring. “Yeah,” he says.

  “I need a favor,” I say.

  A laugh. “I’ve seen the news, friend. Not looking good for you.”

  “I gave you what you wanted. I did my job. She’s here in my fucking bed. Now you have a debt to me.”

  “We have your bank account.”

  “No,” I say. “That’s not what I want and you know it. I want revenge. I want it all erased, do you understand?”

  “I have no authority for that.”

  “Then get it,” I say. “I have good intel, OK? You do not want to pass this chance up. So listen carefully.”

  I tell him everything Kat just told me and he’s quiet the entire time. Sometimes that’s a good sign, sometimes it isn’t. So I finish talking and hold my breath as I wait.

  After almost a minute of silence—“You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. You know I would not risk this call if I wasn’t fucking sure. And before you hang up, I want one more thing. I want Katya, for good, motherfucker.”

  A long exhale. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The call dies, so I call Weston next. He picks up on the first ring.

  “Dude,” he says. ‘I’m fucking dying of boredom over here. Save me, Oliver.”

  “You should be happy you’re bored, asshole. And I didn’t call to chat. I need something from you. And I’m not taking no for an answer. This is the only way to make things right for me, Weston. I helped you when you and Tori needed it. I got Five to help you. Now you need to help me get what I want.”

  He’s silent for a few seconds. “I’ll do what I can, Oliver. We’re friends, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “We’re friends.” And then I tell him what I want. And even though I know it’s not a big sacrifice for him to give up what I need, it means a lot to me for some reason.

  They all mean a lot to me, I realize.

  After we hang up I turn the TV and the server off and go back to bed—afraid to fall asleep. Afraid to stay awake. Afraid that Katya will wake up at any moment and realize she is in that moment.

  The moment when she understands that she did everything wrong.

  When the sun starts to come up and I still haven’t slept, I lean over to kiss Kat on the cheek. “Hey,” I say softly into her ear. “We’re gonna go over to Ariel’s. Come on, get dressed.”

  She turns away from me and sits up in bed. I wonder how long she’s been faking sleep? “No. I have to find my sister. She comes for coffee every day. She will come today, just like always. And I need to be home when that happens.”

  “Katya,” I say, my voice sterner than I intended. “We need to stay together.”

  “No.” She gets up out of bed and goes looking for her clothes. “And I need to get rid of this dress. I can’t wear it another day.”

  “OK,” I say, scratching my chin. “So I’ll take you over to your apartment and you can grab clothes—”

  “No, Oliver.” She stares me down, daring me to contradict her one more time. “I mean it. I promised my sister we’d hang out all day today and that’s what we’re doing. I’m not giving up yet. I can fix this. Whatever she’s gotten herself into, I can fix it, Oliver.”

  I don’t know what to do. I certainly don’t want her interacting with anyone even remotely related to the Silver Society. And I need to find Pax so we can plan this meeting with Liam. But I can’t leave her here. Not without leaving the place unsecure. The alarm is a lot more complicated than giving someone a four-digit code.

  “You can drop me off, Oliver. But I’m staying home today. Once she gets there I’ll find a reason for her to stay with me. That’s where I’ll be. So just have the doorman call up when you’re ready to come back here for the night, and we’ll both go with you.”

  I think about it for a second.

  “OK?” she says, taking my face in her hands and kissing my lips.

  “You promise to stay home today? Not go anywhere, and if you do, you’ll come right over to Hook-Me-Up?”

  “I promise,” she says. “How much safer can I get? I’m practically next door. And you guys will all be at work.”

  “OK,” I decide. “You’re right. Your place is about as close as I can hope for without handcuffing you to me.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll get my sister and we’ll watch the news for updates. We’ll be fine.”

  I’m repeating those words in my head the whole drive over to her building. I drop her off in front, carefully watching the doorman get the elevator for her. And then force myself to drive around the back to the alley and park the car.

  Paxton is sitting on the stoop that leads up to the back door, phone in hand, looking like he didn’t get a lick of sleep last night. “Change of plans,” he says.

  Chapter Forty-Two - KATYA

  At home, everything about my apartment suddenly seems wrong. I look up at all the places cameras could be, then look away real fast, trying not to think about it.

  Act natural, I tell myself. What would I be doing right now if I wasn’t waiting for my world to end?

  Lily. I’m waiting for Lily.

  I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes, and it’s still early, so I get in the shower, wash up, and then put on an outfit more appropriate to what is going to happen today. When I’m ready less than thirty minutes later, I call Lily’s phone to try to get a time estimate on her.

  It rings through to voicemail.

  I leave one. “Hey,” I say into the phone. “Happy birthday! It’s me. We’re supposed to have coffee today, remember? Hang out all day? Celebrate like sisters? Ringing any bells?” I pause, waiting for what, I don’t know. “OK, well, call me when you get this.”

  My stomach hurts so bad right now, I walk to the bathroom, drop to my knees in front of the toilet, and wait to throw up.

  My head spins with the reality I refused to admit to last night.

  Lily is missing. Lily has been missing for almost twenty-four hours. I last saw her just before noon at the Antimony Association house.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? How could I have left her there?

  My phone rings in the other room. I get to my feet and race down the hallway, desperately trying to get to it before it goes to voicemail.

  “Hello? Hello?” And I fail. The call is not there.

  I tab the end button and hold it close to my chest.

  The next rings scares the fuck out of me. I drop the phone, the protective glass shatters, and it takes me another full ring to snap out of my shock, tab the accept button, and say, “I’m here! Lily?”

  “No,” the person says on the other end. “It’s not Lily, whoever that is. It’s Victoria, Kat. I’m sorry to call you.” She sounds like she’s crying. “I found your number in Ariel’s contacts. But you’re the only one who will understand. You’re the only one who will take me seriously.”

  “Whoa, whoa,” I say. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

  “Weston’s parents are in town, Kat. And I know that no one believes me, but they are bad people. And they still think—”

  I almost panic at what she doesn’t say next. This phone, my regular phone, is most definitely bugged. And if she admits to West’s death being a hoax—

  But she pulls herself together and clears her throat. “They still think I’m going to like them. Accept them. Let them into our new family.”

  “And you’re not,” I say.

  “I need your help. Can you come to the coffee shop? The Conrads want to meet my son. And i
f West was still alive, he would never let that happen. So I’m not going to let it happen either.”

  I take a deep, deep breath as I stare up at a possible surveillance camera and then let it out slowly. “I’ll be right there,” I say. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

  I tab the end button on the phone and speak to the camera instead. “OK,” I say. “This is it. I’m ready. I’m starting phase three right now.”

  I put my coat on, go downstairs, and when I get outside I open up the secret phone and press Mariel’s contact.

  She answers on the first ring. “Yes, Katya?”

  “Can you meet at the coffee shop? I have so many new things to tell you.”

  “I’ll be right there, darling.”

  She hangs up as I stare at the phone. Darling. I love that word. Oliver calls me that every once in a while. It just slips out like it’s my name. But only every once in a while.

  Forget it, Katya. Just think about what you have to do next.

  I try to put my sister out of my mind. I try to pretend that she’s smart enough to have known this was coming. I try to talk myself into believing that she is waiting somewhere safe until all this shit blows over.

  But I’ve been in that moment too many times lately. So no matter how hard I try… I just don’t believe it.

  Chapter Forty-Three - OLIVER

  “You ready?” Pax asks me as we cross College Avenue and head towards the shooting range behind Shrike Bikes. What a weird place he chose. But it’s in our favor, so I don’t care.

  “I’m ready,” I say as we cross Maple Street at a jog. There’s a dark car with dark windows parked in the parking lot. This asshole can’t look any more suspicious if he tried. The only thing he has going for him is that no one is working at Shrike Bikes right now.

  Lucky him.

  But that’s still a problem for us.

  The door to the car opens and some tall redhead chick gets out looking like a middle-aged whore. Pax shoots me a look. I shrug, no clue who this bitch is.

  “Hey,” I say, talking to Liam once we are within range. “You can’t leave that car here. My parents will be at the shop in eighteen minutes and in twenty-five minutes, the police will be knocking on that window. If no one answers from inside, they will proceed to tow it, per my father’s posted warning sign.” I point to said posted sign. “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t need any more attention today than I already have.”

  Liam looks agitated. His hands are stuffed into his dark trench coat, his shoulders hunched against the wind. He doesn’t like the cold, I take it. He wants to be back inside that car or this building. He looks at the woman and says, “Pull the car around the block. We’ll wait here until you get back. But hurry the fuck up. I hate this goddamned wind.”

  The woman obeys. Pax and I exchange a quick glance.

  “That’s quite a job you did,” Liam says to Pax.

  “We can talk about it inside,” Pax says.

  “Why did you do it?” Liam asks.

  “I said we’ll talk about it inside,” Pax practically growls. “So shut your fucking mouth until that happens. Then you can ask all the bullshit questions you want. OK?”

  All three of us look in the direction the woman drove off in. And a few minutes later we’re rewarded with her tall figure jogging back to us.

  Car moved out of sight. Check.

  “OK,” I say. “Let’s get the fuck out of this parking lot before people start noticing us.” I go for the door, key in the security code, and hold it open as Pax, the redhead, and Liam all go in. I close it up as they wait on this side of the construction plastic, then say, “Follow me.”

  I lead them through the plastic, down a hallway, and into the main part of the building.

  “What is this place?” the woman asks.

  “Well, one day, when my father pulls his head out of his ass, it will be a shooting range.”

  “Not much to look at,” Liam says, studying the lack of progress to indicate that this place is anything but a condemned building.

  I just keep walking until we reach another barrier of construction plastic, and then pull it aside so they can enter the nothing-special office lounge.

  Liam eyes the table, decides it’s not too dirty to get comfortable, and then does just that.

  “OK,” Pax says. “I made good on our deal. Now tell me what the fuck is going on with all this Mister shit.”

  Liam laughs. Pulls off his black leather gloves one finger at a time. Keeps laughing. It sorta echoes off the high ceilings and that distracts me for a second. It really is an ugly building.

  “You fucked up, Vance.” This isn’t Liam talking. It’s the woman. “I think you better check your expectations before you go off getting cocky.” She takes a seat next to Liam, waving a big gun in her hand.

  Pax cocks an eyebrow at me that says, Can you believe the balls on this one?

  I really can’t. But then again, she did just say that. So I guess I have to.

  “Calm down, Ellen,” Liam says. His good-ol’-boy southern accent—which is usually under control—makes an appearance. “She’s like a dog that needs to be corrected. We have to explain where she went wrong. Punish her. And then retrain her.”

  Pax reaches into his jacket, pulls out his gun, and shoots Ellen in the chest.

  Just bang. Loud as fuck. Bang. Once more to make it count. That wasn’t in the plan he told me back at my office, but whatever. We’re improvising. And we know an Ellen. Well, Mac does. And I’m pretty sure this was that cunt who made Ellie’s life a living hell last year.

  And then he turns to Liam and grabs him by the throat. “Look here, motherfucker,” he says in a low, calm voice. “I did your job, and we had a deal. So you had better start talking or I’m gonna shove this gun up your ass and blow your goddamned head off. Because that’s definitely where you’re keeping your brain today if your big bad plan was to bring a woman along to talk shit to me.”

  Sometimes a man knows when he’s beat. Sometimes he takes it like a… well, a man. And then there are times when he doesn’t.

  Liam Henry doesn’t take anything like a man. But that’s OK.

  I look around the would-be shooting range my father has been tinkering with for the better part of six years. Liam was right about this place. It really isn’t much to look at.

  But it sure as shit is soundproof.

  In the end we get what we need. And Liam gets a date with his little girlfriend.

  Different gun, of course. Pax makes dead Liam shoot dead Ellen just to keep it authentic for the forensics team.

  He plants the gun that shot Liam in Ellen’s hand. Plants the gun that shot Ellen in Liam’s hand. And then stands up to admire his handiwork.

  I whistle in appreciation. “Why, Mr. Mysterious. I do believe you’ve done this before.”

  Pax shrugs. “Maybe a time or two. It’s not perfect. I can think of a dozen mistakes I’ve made. But it’s good enough. I think we can probably buy a local cop on that dark market of yours.”

  I roll my eyes. “So what do you think?” I ask, looking at my watch. We’ve been in here forty-five minutes. I lied to Liam earlier. Shrike Bikes opens at four PM on Thursdays. So no one will see us here at all. But I’m too lazy to move that damn car. Plus, just thinking about all those fingerprints and DNA samples I might leave behind if I actually have to drive it… nah.

  “Victoria will be happy, right?”

  “Happy?” I ask. “I don’t think she wanted them to be involved. But yeah, she called it way the fuck back when, right?”

  “Let’s go get West first. I bet he’s dying to get out of that basement. Then we can deal with the others.”

  I nod and follow him out of the building, locking it up behind us. And then we tuck our hands into our pockets, bend our heads into the wind, and head across College Avenue to the backdoor of the FoCo Theater to bring our dead friend back to life.

  Chapter Forty-Four - KATYA

  Victo
ria is sitting in the back of the coffee shop when I arrive, her young son Ethan enjoying a pastry and cup of hot chocolate as he swings his feet and smiles at the Christmas cartoons on the flatscreen just above his head.

  “Hey,” I say to Victoria, sitting down in the chair next to her.

  “I can’t get a hold of Ariel, or Cindy, or Pax, or Oliver. But I did get a hold of Ellie, and they are on their way to Denver—”

  “Wait,” I say. “What are you talking about?”

  “The sh—” Victoria looks at Ethan and stops her curse word. “They left town.”

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Nolan, Ivy, Ellie, and Mac. They left town and they’re creating a credit-card trail as they travel down I-25.”

  “Why would they do that?” I’m so confused. “What’s happening?”

  Victoria eyes Ethan. “Ethan, sweetie?” she says in a mom voice I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing from her before. “Why don’t you go to the little craft table over there and make West a Christmas card?”

  Ethan gives her a sharp look. “Are you sure he’s—”

  “He’s fine, sweetie. I promise. Now go.”

  Ethan scrapes his chair across the floor as he pushes it back, and then he shoots her one more dubious look over his shoulder before walking across the shop to settle into a crafting table filled with crayons and paper.

  “He saw the news last night,” Victoria explains.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Luckily, he’s a cynic, like me.” She gives me perhaps the most real smile I’ve yet to see from her. “And he said, ‘That looks fake.’”

  “What’d you say?” I ask, smiling with her.

  “I told him West was working at the haunted house and someone made a mistake and called the reporters.” She shrugs. “It’s the truth, right?”

  “I… guess. I really don’t know what happened with that, to be honest.”