Page 89 of Trailer Trash

It’s one of the few movie villains I don’t have. I’m really starting to hate the Joker references.

“It’s only half of my face. What’s your excuse for such an ugly mug?”

Grayson smirks, less cocky, though. He’s not bad looking. He has short dark hair, no tattoos, and the face of a blue-collar guy someone might trust to fix a leaking pipe — right before he bangs their wife. Women definitely like him. That’s not the point.

Before he can toss something back, I jog upstairs to see Atticus, Brax’s little brother.

“Hey, man,” I say.

He takes off his headphones and looks away from his monitor. He’s playing some kind of adventure game. He’s eighteen now. Just barely. But the guy is way too smart for how young he is.

He skips a greeting and waits for me to speak, being the odd dude he is.

“Remember when you cloned my phone for Asher?”

He nods.

“Can you do that for me? I’ll pay you.”

“If you bring me the phone. It’ll cost you fifty.”

I try not to smile. I would’ve paid more.

I point at his computer. “What else can you do with that thing?”

“I can unlock top characters nobody else can. Weapons, too.”

“No. I mean can you hack real stuff, like bank accounts? Or clone a laptop?”

“Yeah, maybe. It’d be easier if you give me the laptop, though.”

“How long will it take?”

“Probably not long.”

I think for a moment. Harlow always has her phone and laptop in her bag. I know her phone code from watching her enter it, and she rarely locks her laptop around me. If I had access to both all the time, I’d find out if she’s seeing someone.

I already put a GPS tracker on her new car. She doesn’t go anywhere outside her routine, but that doesn’t mean someone isn’t coming to her place.

“Can you come to my place tomorrow?”

“Two-hundred.”

I nod, pleased. I’ll know the truth soon.

Atticus decides the conversation is over, puts on his headphones, and zeroes in on his game.

On my way out, I send Brax some cash for more coke, then flip off Grayson as I leave.

The next day, Atticus shows up at the mansion. I keep Harlow entertained in the game room while Atticus sneaks off with her prized phone and laptop. An hour later, he’s done. Harlow doesn’t even know he was here.

The second her shift ends, I open the monitoring dashboard Atticus installed. Her texts and most of her app activity are there. The laptop contains little beyond schoolwork, but Atticus also found the passwords saved in her browser. I have her bank login now. What a joke that is. Pitiful. No wonder she can’t afford the car insurance.

Nothing suggests a date.

Even though I’ve made progress and should feel better, I don’t.

There has to be a guy visiting her. That’s the only explanation.