Page 23

He looks up and holds out his hand with none other than my Margaret sitting on it. “Is this yours?”

“Yes.”

I frown as I walk closer. Margaret barely moves on a good day; she’s the lazy one. Cinnamon is the little asshole I expect to find halfway across the room the second she gets the chance. How the fuck Margaret ended up out here is beyond me.

“She was on the railing, and I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

I narrow my eyes. “Who are you exactly?” Maybe Nixie hired a fourth backdrop, though this man with his floppy, mussed hair doesn’t really blend in with their image.

“Jensen, I don’t . . . I’m not exactly sure how I got here. I woke up in a cell, and the door was open. I walked out and apparently got lost and ended up back here, then I saw this beauty.”

“So why didn’t you run the second you were free?” I ask, moving up beside him.

He shrugs. “My freedom could come at a price, and since that jester guy didn’t let me finish the job myself, I figured saving this girl could be my good deed.”

“The Jester saved you?” I say, mostly to myself, because his story from the bar is still fresh in my head.

Jensen nods. “That’s what he said.” He glances up from Margaret. “But is he really trying to save my life, or is he just saying that so he can kill me himself?”

I sit opposite him and hold out my hand for Margaret, and the lazy bitch strolls slowly onto my hand.

“If the Jester wanted you dead, you’d be dead. He doesn’t keep unnecessary people around, and does what needs to be done. He must find you interesting.” Which in turn raises my interest.

“He was following me.”

I shrug. “Sounds like him. For how long?”

“He told me he had been following me for nineteen days.”

“Then you must have been interesting to him for that long because you are still alive.”

“He wants something from me.”

That makes me laugh. “From the stories I have heard, he would have tortured it out of you. He likes theatrics. Come inside.”

He gets up and follows me, sitting in the kitchen while I put Margaret back in her tank. The mole hasn’t moved in days, and all the while was plotting her escape. When I get back, I pull out a couple water bottles and place one down in front of Jensen.

“Do you own lots of spiders?”

“I do. I find them better company than humans. So, Jensen, who has found himself in a hot mess. Tell me the gritty details.”

He does, sharing everything. The flash drive, his client, and what was on the drive. Then he speaks of the people they sent, the weeks of paranoia, and how that led to him to wanting to end it all just so it was over. How he took the pills and woke up in a cell. I listen without interrupting him, and when he’s done, I process it all.

“He left the door open on purpose.”

“Why would he do that?”

I shrug. “My guess is he wanted to see what you would do, then to hunt you this time. You disrupted his plans, and now he needs to make them right.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“It’s not meant to be. You have something he wants, and he was clearly hired to get it and eliminate you. Thank you for that information, by the way. I have always wondered what that moron does when he is not here. But the good news is, you’re safer on the island than anywhere else.”

“Safer, but not safe.”

I laugh. “I said what I meant. He won’t kill you out in the open here on the island, though maybe in that cell where he could dispose of the evidence. Our boss is a hard-ass, and she would slaughter him if he brought cops to the island. We’ve had our fair share of drama recently with the damn Scarecrow and the other island idiot.”

“So I am temporarily safe until he catches me off the island?”