Operating System (The System Series Book 3) by Ring Andrea

Author:Ring, Andrea [Ring, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Square Gorilla Press
Published: 2014-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dad comes home as I’m heating leftover pizza in the microwave.

“You want some?” I ask.

“Please,” he says, shedding his jacket and throwing it over a kitchen chair.

I make another plate, and we sit down to eat.

“Have you seen Tyrion?” I ask.

Dad nods. “We’ve got him at the Attic. He’s not going anywhere.”

“What’s the plan with him?”

“I’m leaving it up to Dacey for now, since he’s Tyrion’s guardian. Dacey’s handling it.”

“Guardian? Isn’t Tyrion an adult?”

“Only in appearance,” Dad says. “We decided on a ten-year guardianship. Glad we planned for that.”

I chew my pizza. Having someone oversee Tyrion never occurred to me. I just assumed he was a responsible adult. Another example of how little I know.

“Have you heard from Jack?” Dad asks.

I nod. “Yep. She called me last night. Sounds like she won’t be back for a few days.”

“I don’t like her doing this kind of work,” Dad says. “She should just come to the Attic. All these odd jobs…how does she pay the rent?”

“With the odd jobs. You know, job. Pay.”

Dad rolls his eyes. “If you talk to her again, tell her to call me. I need to break the news about Tyrion.”

I wince and sigh in relief at the same time, dreading what that conversation will entail and glad it’s not me that has to discuss it.

And then…oh God.

“Dad, call her right now. Right now!”

“Why?”

I stand up and fumble in my pocket for my phone. “She told me she made one friend up there, a guy who was a suspect, but she cleared him ‘cause his aura is similar to yours.”

Dad stares at me while I dial. “And you’re worried about my aura?”

“It’s not exactly like yours. It’s opposite. Almost entirely practical with a streak of righteousness.”

Dad takes two seconds to absorb this, then he leaps to his feet. “I’ll text her. You keep calling.”

The phone rings and rings and goes to voicemail. I hang up and dial again.

“What did his aura look like?”

“Purple, with ribbons of gold.”

Dad snarls as he types. “Jack knows that practicality trumps ethics. If this guy’s all purple…how could she be so stupid?”

I don’t comment as I listen to the phone ring. I find it interesting that Dad knows his practicality is something to resist rather than embrace.

Dad finishes texting. “What precinct is she at?”

“I don’t know.”

I hang up and dial again. “Leave a fucking message!” Dad growls at me.

Jack’s voicemail beeps. “Jack, your friend might be the killer. Get away from him. Go to the police. Call us now!”

I look at Dad. “What now?”

“I’m looking up the murders to find her location. Get on your laptop and help me look.”

We look, me on the laptop, Dad on his phone. Of course he finds something first. “I’ve got the tip line for the case,” he says, already dialing.

He explains the situation the best he can without mentioning auras or how we know (or think we know) who the killer is. He asks to be connected to the police department up there in San Francisco, but the lady won’t do it.

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