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THIRTY-NINE
The front doors slid open, and Clare pocketed her key card. She’d locked the place down, which meant no one had access but her. Alex had split from the hospital, someone else her people had to track down on surveillance cameras outside that building.
“He got into a cab.” Simon edged in just before the doors closed. “Alex got into a cab outside the hospital.”
“Call the company.”
He nodded as he strode toward her, clutching a laptop he’d folded back on itself so she could see the keys. The screen brushed against his ’70s rock T-shirt. “Gave them the number. They’re contacting the driver to see if he’s still in it, and where they’re going. But I also called Sergeant O’Connell, and he’s taking the information we give him.”
“Good. Now the diamonds.” Clare turned and looked around the expansive lobby, all white with little in the way of décor but a potted plant beside the couch. Not a spot where they invited people to linger, which was precisely by design.
Anyone who came here had a reason. They didn’t just drop by—except for Selena, and Alex.
“Sorry?”
“If you were here and you had a small velvet pouch of diamonds, where would you put it?”
Simon walked over to the plant and kicked it over. No dirt spilled, but the plastic disk that looked like soil rattled against the floor. “In the couch, maybe?”
“Depends if he sat.”
Simon shifted the laptop and tapped the screen. “Let’s take a look at the footage from when they were here.”
The doors opened again, and Gage walked in with Peter. There wasn’t much she could do except try to find the diamonds. Until Aaron made contact, or Alex showed up—or they found him—there wasn’t a move to make. Just leads to follow.
“Show me.” Clare moved to the couch and glanced at Peter. “And get Sandy.”
Simon settled beside her and started typing, his fingers moving about twice as fast as she could type—or anyone else she knew. “Wednesday, you were shot at in the park. Weren’t you hit as well?”
Clare shrugged. “Just a graze.”
Gage folded his arms. Watched. He seemed to be doing better than her facing this, but then he believed what Ember did. That God should be allowed to be in control. She had no problem with a Creator who made the world, and then left things to run. That’s how she’d always thought of Him.
But the idea of talking to Him now? Or even letting go and allowing that same God to run her life?
Can I trust You? They both think I can, and I know how happy it would make them if I believed. But I have to do this for me. Not for them. I want to trust You.
Not just because she was out of options and it was worth a shot, but because God was the only force of good in this world and she needed that in her life.
She needed to be more than what she was by herself, when no one was around.
Clare didn’t like failing. Letting down people she cared about.
People she had brought under her wing. Like Selena—and the twins.
Simon glanced at her then. Now that she knew them better, it was easier to tell the difference between him and Peter, though the twins were identical. They’d had the same hair when she met them, but while Peter kept his military-short now, Simon hadn’t cut his.
“Wednesday,” she prompted.
He pulled up the footage and scrolled with his finger until Alex and Selena walked in. He let it play, their movements jerky. She realized he’d played it double speed. “They didn’t go over to the couch. Didn’t sit.”
“There.” Clare pointed at the screen. “He said something to Sandy.”
Peter strode in, Sandy behind him.
Clare said, “What did Alex say to you, Sandy?”
Simon turned the laptop so she could see the screen.
