Page 129 of Gave Proof Through the Night

“Just that our interests were temporarily aligned.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Ginger says.

“Was he trying to be mysterious?” Suri asks.

“I’m a weirdo magnet.” I drop onto the arm of the couch. “I have to deal with Hobbs, then this bozo… not to mention whoever this Jackdaw person is.”

“Men.” Ivy shakes her head. “Why are they so dramatic?” A beat, a glance at Dale. “Sorry, Dale.”

“No worries.” Dale doesn’t even glance up. He’s too invested in a sub sandwich, not even noticing the mustard dripping on his shirt.

“Where did you get that?” Tanya asks.

He shrugs. “Late night bodega.”

Zoe’s fingers are already flying across her keyboard. It doesn’t take her long.

“Got him.” She turns the screen around. “Heath Kane. Estranged grandson of Walter Kane. Disinherited over some family dispute, yadda yadda. Was squeezed out of his position at the family company by the board of directors in twenty-twenty.”

“And the plot thickens,” Rue says.

Zoe turns the computer screen toward me. There’s a photo of Heath Kane in a crisp suit.

“That him?”

“Yep.”

A knock at the door cuts through whatever anyone was about to say next.

Zoe zooms over and signals us all to hide. There is really nowhere to hide in this open loft, so we all just crouch, as if that would help at all. Zoe wrenches the door open a crack, as much as the chain will allow. Doesn’t see anyone out there, then slowly unlatches the chain and peeks outside. She looks to the right and to the left. There’s no one out there.

“Ding dong ditch?” Ginger says, “Very mature.”

Then Zoe takes off down the sidewalk in her bare feet.

I step out onto the landing while Zoe’s still searching for our ding dong ditcher, and that’s when I notice something sitting in shadow on the welcome mat. A jack of spades. I almost didn’t see it there.

I pick it up and turn it over in my hand. At the bottom, there are four stamped numbers. My stomach drops somewhere around my ankles.

Zoe comes back up out of breath, hair everywhere, hands braced on her knees in the doorway. “Nobody. Checked the sidewalk, checked between the buildings. Nothing.” She immediately throws the deadbolt, then checks the window latches on her way past them. “We need to get to the safehouse.”

I hold up the jack of spades to show the room. “This was on the mat.”

Rue scoffs. “Now he’s just gloating.”

“What do you suppose he wants?” Ivy asks.

“There are four numbers stamped on it,” I say, handing the card to Ivy.

“Is it a code?” asks Ginger.

“A safety deposit box number!” Tanya says, hopeful.

“No,” I say. “It's an address. Sal's favorite diner. In Brooklyn.”

26

JEREMIAH