Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
By the time the police had finished, Harley had arrived with his magic bag of tricks to look for trackers on my SUV. Then careful to check for tails, we’d taken a long and winding way back to Duncan’s condo, where Daniel was currently curled up on a corner of the couch while Harley and I talked in whispers in the kitchen.
“The cyber crimes folks need him hidden while they try to track the stalker.” I paced over to the fridge. The more immediate need was food. We needed to feed Daniel because he’d never gotten his soup. “The detectives seemed to have a plan that’s worked in other cases using decoys and other stuff to lure the fucker out.”
“He can’t stay here too long.” Harley shook his head, but I was already in agreement there.
“Yeah. This isn’t a long-term solution. I’m pretty sure this condo was a gift from their dad. It wouldn’t be that hard to trace if someone were determined.”
“Yup, too easy for someone to find him. I’ll stay tonight too and be backup.” Harley sounded gleeful at the prospect. He always did have bottomless energy and an appetite for action. His tats and closely cropped hair made him look even more out of place in Duncan’s gleaming kitchen than I did. He spared a glance back to the living area. “You’ve got to stash him somewhere better.”
“Me?” I pretended like I didn’t know exactly how this would play out as I retrieved some designer cheese and hipster bread. Duncan sure had adjusted to not having to rely on the chow hall in a big way.
“Hey, I’ve got my own job on that show. They need me for security on set.” Harley was shorter than me, but his puffed-up ego always made him seem bigger. “This job is all you.”
“It’s not my job. I told Duncan I wasn’t on the clock,” I grumbled even though I wasn’t going to abandon Daniel at this point, pay or no pay. I slapped three sandwiches together, accidentally ripping one of the slices with my frustrations. Oh well. I’d have that one.
“You’re not really gonna let the LT down here.” Harley seemed to know my protests were mainly for show. Watching me ready the sandwiches for the skillet, he fetched three plates and a jar of pickles. “LT could get someone else, sure, but no one he trusts like you.”
“I’ll do it.” I also didn’t like the idea of Daniel under someone else’s protection either, but Harley didn’t need to know all my jumbled-up thoughts. The sandwiches hit the skillet with a loud sizzle that sounded exactly like my plans for the spring going up in smoke. “And I know one place where Daniel would be safe, but I’m gonna need a favor.”
Harley nodded like he’d expected nothing less from me. “You wanna take him to the cabin?”
“Good guess.” For all my grumbling, I’d been thinking all evening on this possibility. Harley had inherited a place up north near Mammoth Lakes from some great-uncle, and he’d been working on it when he could. It was the best idea I had on short notice, the closest thing we had to a safe house. “How about it?”
“The kid will hate it.” Harley added chips to each plate and three extra pickles to his. “It’s rustic as hell, no celebrity amenities.”
“I’ll handle him,” I promised with more certainty than I felt. All day, Daniel had shown himself to have more depth than a typical rich kid, but this was also the guy who saw fries as a novelty. No telling how he’d fare with no phone and no takeout options. “Daniel safe is the important thing.”
“Yup, but good luck to you the first time he sees a spider.” Harley moved so I could slide a sandwich onto each plate.
“He’s not that bad,” I protested, not about to voice my private doubts. “I’ll need a less trackable set of wheels too.”
“I’m on it.” Harley took his plate, pile of pickles and all, to one of the stools along the breakfast bar. “Let me make some calls while you break the happy news to the kid.”
“Deal.” I didn’t relish the job, but better me than him. Tact was hardly Harley’s strongest trait. Daniel looked young and cold over on the couch. Remembering the stack of blankets at his house, I started by retrieving the fuzziest blanket in Duncan’s linen closet.
“Here.” I draped it across his shoulders before bringing both our plates over and sitting next to him on the couch with mine in my lap. “We’ve got a plan, but you’re probably not gonna like it.”
Better to just get that out in the open right now.
“Probably not.” Daniel sounded far away. He didn’t even look down at his food. “But anywhere they can’t find me is fine. Like the detective said, I have to lay low.”