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The first thing I pulled out was a piece of printer paper, folded once, with a list of names of what appeared to be companies:East Marling Electronics. Fletcher and Co. Pawn Shop. Terry’s Boutique.
Next to each company name, Mom had added brief notes in red ink.Weak security system. Manager gambles.That sort of thing.
A list of vulnerabilities. She could be evaluating our own business ventures, but I didn’t recognize any of the names.
I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the list so I could search for those companies later and see if I could figure out why they mattered to her.
As I fished behind the hidden compartment again, my fingers snagged on a more tightly folded paper. Easing it out, I discovered it was a map of the United States.
Sections of various states were circled in a few different colors. I wasn’t sure what most of them represented, but I couldn’t help noticing that a significant portion of Massachusetts including Boston had been marked off.
That territory belonged to the Harvester. Was she visualizing which pieces of the country she hoped to gain in her takeover, or was it just a coincidence?
I wasn’t taking any chances. I snapped several photos of the map as well, a couple of the whole thing and then more closer up on different areas.
I was so intent on my documentation that the sound of footsteps didn’t filter through my concentration until they were right outside the office door. My head jerked up with a jolt of panic.
My mother’s voice carried to my ears, making my panic spike even higher. “You’d better tell Damien that I expect him to come tomenext time, or he isn’t going to have any fingers left to keep doing his work.”
She must have been talking to one of her underlings. She’d come back early—someone she’d meant to meet had stood her up?
I didn’t have time to wonder. As I shoved my findings back in the drawer as quickly as I could manage, keys clinked on the other side of the door. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
One of those keys rasped into the hole. I nudged the drawer closed and flung myself across the room toward the nearest viable shelter: a big potted fern spaced just far enough from the window that I could crouch down and squeeze between the wide clay pot and the ledge.
I’d only just ducked into place when the door swung open.
“Stupid prick making me wait around for nothing,” Mom muttered as she came in. “He won’t be doingthatagain.”
I could only imagine what horrible punishments she was devising in her head. My stomach knotted.
Please let her only be coming in to grab something before she took off again. If she stuck around and got down to work… Every passing second would mean another moment when she could unleash that anger on me.
Mom sank into her chair behind the desk. To my relief, I heard no sign that she’d noticed anything awry so far.
With a rustle, she withdrew her phone from her purse. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, making the wheels squeak faintly.
Whoever she’d called must have answered quickly. The tension smoothed from her voice, leaving it coolly nonchalant.
“Hello. I thought it was about time we touched base. I’ve narrowed down the list, and we shouldn’t wait too long to get the ball rolling.”
The list? Rolling the ball?
My pulse hitched. Was she talking to one of her co-conspirators? If she was going to say something incriminating, I needed proof.
Ever so carefully, I slid out my own phone and tapped the screen to start it recording.
Another squeak told me Mom had stood up. As she listened to the person on the other end, she paced behind her desk, her stilettos clicking on the polished hardwood.
Then, to my horror, she came around the desk and strolled across the rug toward the window.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said languidly. “My people know how to keep their heads down when necessary. I’m sure yours can be circumspect as well.”
Her scarlet fingernails dug into the curtain close enough to my hiding place that I spotted them through the fern’s fronds. I held my body even more rigid as she yanked the fabric aside.
Starker sunlight streaked into the room. My mouth went dry. If she took even one more step and glanced down—
She stood, staring out the window, for a few seconds longer, and then turned on her heel to face the desk again.
