Page 88 of Mr. Match

“How much do they want?” Nolan asks. “What’s a fair price for this kind of thing?”

“Why are you looking at me?” I ask, slightly offended. “This is not my website.”

“I’m just fucking asking, dude. Don’t be a bitch.”

“Thirty grand,” Pax says. “This one wants forty-five.”

“Which one should we choose?” I ask.

“Forty-five fucking grand?” Mac says.

“Who cares about the price,” I say.

“No, dude. We gotta haggle,” Pax says. “Otherwise we won’t be taken seriously. I’m making them prove they really work for the networks they say they do.”

“How?” I ask.

“This guy,” Pax says, pointing to a conversation. “He’s gotta fuck up someone’s mic on live TV. This one is gonna flash the wrong background on the weather report. And this one is gonna have the anchor say some code word I gave him. If he can pull that one off, we’re going with him.”

He’s silent for a few minutes as he types. “OK,” he finally says. “This guy says in the next thirty seconds the live reporter will use the word mysterious.”

We all go silent as Pax turns up the volume.

And yup. Sure enough, that good-looking guy on TV—that upstanding looking citizen who is supposed to report facts and follow a code of ethics that goes back hundreds of years—says our boy’s name.

Pax puts up his hand for a high-five and Nolan gives it back. “Gimme the photos,” he says, refocusing back to the computer. “I’ve already bought fifty thousand dollars in bitcoin. We’re going in, men. Better hold on tight.”

Twenty minutes later that reporter and his associate have a news story people didn’t know they wanted, but won’t be able to take their eyes off.

Mr. Corporate dead from assassination-style killing in Fort Collins, Colorado.

Pax whoops as he stands. “That’s how it’s done, girls. Now let me the fuck out of here, Match. I’ve got a phone call to make.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight - KATYA

“So where is she?” Victoria asks. She and Ariel are not taking the news about Mariel very well. Cindy looks pale at the mention of Paxton’s mother’s name. Ellie and Ivy are taking it better, but they aren’t as invested in her as the rest of them. Ariel is, because she’s Cindy’s sister. And Cindy is, because she’s probably gonna marry that Mysterious man.

“She’ll be here,” I say. “She said she was at the airport. And that’s kinda far away, right?”

My phone buzzes in my hand and we all jump.

“Shit,” Ariel says, I think slightly embarrassed by her reaction.

“This is her,” I say. “She’s in the parking lot.”

“Come on,” Ariel says. “I’ll open the door for you.”

We make our way back through the construction zone of the would-be shooting range, and sure enough, hidden in the shadows of the awning over the door is a woman in a white cloak.

My throat tightens up and my stomach sinks when I associate Mariel with the white dress my sister was wearing this morning.

Jesus Christ, what time is it? I look down at my phone and realize I’ve been here all afternoon and it’s dinnertime now.

Ariel messes with the security system and then unlocks the door.

“I don’t know what is happening in this town tonight, but it’s insane,” Mariel says, throwing her hood back once she’s inside and Ariel is locking us back in.

“My cousin has a haunted house at the theater across the street.” And then Ariel looks at Mariel and frowns. “You left us hanging.”