Page 49 of His Puppet

All eyes turn to Emily. Her chin is high, and her face is stoic, but there’s a tremble about her that’s hard to miss. “I’m a runaway… Or, well, was, before I turned eighteen. I’ve been on my own for five years and have evaded all forms of authority in that time. I changed my name, dyed my hair, have only ever used cash, anything to avoid being on paper somewhere, just in case. I have no driver’s license or means of identification. I amnotworking with the police.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes as she lets it out. “That detective has a photo of a dead partner hanging on his office wall. I asked about the man and was told his name, which was the password for the laptop I had to break into, also in his office. The pin for the database was the dead man’s badge number, which I got from the photo.” She turns and tugs her shirt down enough for them to see the bandage on her back. “I cut myself with a letter opener and pretended to faint. I got into the computer while the detective was getting the first aid kit.”

Emily glances at me, and I don’t give her whatever assurance she’s looking for. I just stare at her, a little stunned, a little turned on, and a lot intrigued.

I turn to Lorenzo and Settimo. “Satisfied?”

Settimo scratches his head and looks between Lorenzo and me. “Are you?” he asks, facing me.

I peer at Emily. “Yes, I am. In the short time I’ve known Emily, I’ve developed a great amount of respect for her. She’s good, Don Settimo. Better than she looks, which makes her that much more valuable.”

Settimo looks at Lorenzo for his approval, but Lorenzo doesn’t take his eyes off Emily. Nothing shows in his expression.

“Oh, before I forget,” Emily reaches into her pocket and takes out a watch. She holds it out toward Settimo, and his eyes narrow in confusion as he touches his bare wrist.

My jaw relaxes as I stare at the watch.

“I would never actually steal from you, of course, sir. Mr. Bianchi thought it would help if I showed you what I could do.”

Settimo takes the watch, looks at it skeptically, and it’s a tossup of whether he’s pissed or impressed. He meets my eyes and chuckles. “Huh.”

“I told you to lift off Lorenzo,” I say, turning to Emily. “He’s the skeptic.”

Emily pulls a wallet from her pocket and tosses it at Lorenzo. It slaps his chest, and he catches it before it falls. He looks from it to Emily and tilts his head. “How the fuck did you get this?”

She shrugs and doesn’t answer, choosing instead to reach into her shirt and pull several things from her bra. Cash, a credit card, and what looks like a driver’s license. She takes the step to Lorenzo and holds the items out toward him. “Could you give these to Victor?”

I give my head a shake and laugh. Lorenzo narrows his eyes at me, but there’s no mistaking the respect swirling in his dark irises. He takes the items and slides them into his pocket.

“Now are you satisfied?” I ask.

He looks at Emily, pausing a long time before speaking. “Maybe I was too quick to judge.”

Settimo comes up and slaps me on the back, his grin wide and genuine this time.

“Let’s talk.”

15

Emily

Beads of sweat form in the crease between my nose and lip. I’ve wiped it away many times, but it comes back with a vengeance, so I no longer bother. My sweating has less to do with the heat and more to do with nerves, and it’s doubtful those are going away any time soon. My fingers twitch at my sides while I stare at the buildings across from the casino.

I’m by the back door, pressed against the concrete wall and waiting for Blade to finish talking with Pearly Teeth and Scarface so we can get the fuck out of here. Every fiber of my being is telling me to run, as fast and as far away as possible. From Blade. Settimo. Lorenzo.Him. Take your pick.

How long before they discover who I really am? I guess that isn’t the problem. It’s what they’ll do about it. Maybe they’ll kill me, get rid of the evidence before they get caught harboring a proverbial fugitive.

Or maybe they’ll give me up. Which is even worse.

I take in a shaky breath and lean my head against the brick. They could be looking me up right now. That could be what’s taking so long.

I eye Blade’s car and kick myself for not snatching his keys. I’m guessing he isn’t the type of person to put a spare in one of those magnetic things that cling to the wheel carriage. There’s another rule of mine I’ve broken. Always,always, think ahead.

Which is exactly what I should be doing now.

I turn my head and peer at the closed door, then I scan the parking lot. It’s nearly deserted in this part, with only a few vehicles. I’m sure there are cameras and guards, but what are the odds they’ll catch me if I can make it even a block away? All I’d need is to get onto the strip, and then I could blend in. Find a parking garage. Steal a car. Get the fuck out of here.

I scan the parking lot again, look at the back door, then I push off the wall and take hurried steps across the parking lot. A creaking behind me halts my steps, and I turn to see Blade stepping outside, the door swinging shut behind him. He squints at me.