Hide in Place by Emilya Naymark

Author:Emilya Naymark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

CHAPTER

32

ON THE DAY Laney was to officially connect with Owen Hopper, she almost didn’t. She waited at the precinct for Harry, who was uncharacteristically late, and tried not to check her messages. Alfie had had an episode two days before, something to do with his locker and him not being able to open it in time, and then being marked tardy in math class, and then panicking. The nurse called, the principal called, the guidance counselor. Laney felt an involuntary anxious spasm every time her phone pinged. The way she was feeling that day, she was better off burying the phone in her desk drawer. Theo would have to handle anything that happened, because if she wasn’t on, wasn’t one hundred percent focused, she’d blow her cover. And if she blew it while Hopper was introducing her to Orlov’s men, she’d be screwed.

She swiped a bit of gloss on her lips—mauve, because Kendra liked mauve. The sticky, strawberry-scented balm put her in mind of Theo’s latest work, and she ran her hands through her hair in irritation, her fingers snagging on the jeweled bobby pins she’d threaded through.

Theo had started a new series of paintings—canvases six, seven, eight feet tall featuring enormous mouths. Pink, coral, red, umber, black, cracked, glossy, toothless and overly toothed, these orifices screamed and moaned at her whenever she entered his studio, and for the first time his work unnerved her. If she were to be honest, which she wouldn’t be, not even with herself, they revolted her.

The days of perching on his painting stool, yakking away about her adventures while he painted, were long gone. She didn’t even know when that had stopped, but he’d gotten into the habit of locking the studio door when working. She knew he needed his painting time, so she left it alone. Consequently, she hadn’t been able to discuss her case and her doubts about it with anyone. Kendra’s personality was usually uncomplicated for Laney, but something about Owen Hopper, or the seriousness of the next phase, the high stakes, rattled her.

She needed another, deeper angle. She couldn’t just be chaotic, dope-sick Kendra; it wouldn’t fly with the Russians. She’d kept her thoughts to herself for obvious reasons. Nobody wanted a waffling undercover on a case this big. She couldn’t, wouldn’t botch it up.

When Harry arrived, forty-five minutes late and out of breath, Laney leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Said, “What, no Danish? Not even a churro con chocolate?” She squinted, took in his flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, flaring nostrils. “Harry, are you exercising? Are you exercising and on a diet?” She almost laughed, the relief of finally starting the day rushing through her, a bright and fresh feeling, her qualms at rest for now.

“You’re funny,” Harry said, shrugging off his jacket, the top of his gun visible over his belt. “Damn BQE. Two trucks broke down, one after the damn other. A fucking parking lot for three miles.” He’d already signed in, had the case folder in his hands, riffled through it, then dropped it on his desk.

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