Page 96 of Hellbent

“Just needed some … things.”

“Is that girl with you?”

“Who?” Evan said. “No.”

Joey remained immersed in her phone. For all their collective tradecraft, the ruse was paper thin.

“Yes,” Evan said.

Joey looked up, gave a flat smile.

Mia’s head cocked. Her gaze narrowed—the district-attorney gaze.

“She’s sort of … my niece.” Evan said. “Staying with me awhile. She needed some…” He winced. “Girl things.”

“I thought you didn’t have any family.”

“She’s the closest to it, I guess. Kind of a … a second cousin’s kid. Through a marriage. But then her parents died. Sort of thing.”

He took a deep breath, let it burn in his lungs. All his impeccable training, living his cover, becoming his legend. Never a skip, a stutter, a false move. And here he was.

Undone by Target.

“It’s a weird situation,” he conceded.

“Indeed.” Mia’s glare softened only when she looked over at Joey. “Hi, honey. I’m Mia.”

Joey came over and shook her hand. “Joey.”

“Super-cool girl name,” Peter said.

Mia’s ringtone sounded—the theme to Jaws, which signaled a call from her office. She said, “Gimme a sec,” and stepped away to answer.

Peter blinked up at Joey and Evan. “I was in class today? And Zachary had an egg-salad sandwich? And he took it out right before lunch, and it totally smelled like someone farted, and it was on my side of the classroom, so everyone was looking at me, and what am I gonna say? Like, ‘I didn’t fart’? I mean, who believes that?”

Joey looked over at Evan. “Does it have an off button?”

Standing a few paces away, Mia paused from her call to glance across at Evan, her displeasure clear.

Was she mad at him for having a sort-of niece? For being at Target? For not introducing her to Joey right away?

Peter had cornered Joey against the choo-choo ride. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Matte black,” Joey said.

“What do you like to play?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you like to play with?”

“The entrails of children.”

“What’s an entrails?”

“Guts.”

“Really?”