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“Click the audio symbol and put me on loudspeaker.”
“That’s a passcode?” I ask.
“It’s voice-activated.”
“Oh, uh, okay.” My heartbeat suddenly picks up. This is so wrong. This is so sneaky, but he is my kidnapper. Why should I have to play by the rules? “Two seconds. My loudspeaker is annoying on here.”
“Annoying?”
I quickly go to my phone, find the recorder app, and clickrecord. “It’s not on the main call screen. Sorry. I’ve got you now.”
“You can hear me?”
“Yeah.” I swallow. The symbol at the top of my phone blinks, telling me it’s currently recording. I hold the phone toward the laptop. “Okay, ready…”
“Unlock,” Jamie says clearly, and the screen flashes blue. There’s nothing on the desktop except one icon.Anybody, it’s called, with a small symbol of a person. “Are you in?”
“Yeah.”
I want to click the bottom left, explore his files, and snoop. If he won’t tell me what’s happening, I’ll learn that way.
“Search Antonio Romero onAnybody—the app at the bottom left.”
“Yeah, I’ve got it,” I say a little testily. I open the app, type in his name, and swallow when I see the advanced search options.Select database: NCA, FBI, CIA…The list goes on. “Which database do I use?”
And who the hell are you?
“All of them,” he grunts. “When it loads, take a photo of each page and send it to me, then video-call me.”
“Video-call you? Why?”
“Just do it, Lena.”
“Who said it was okay for you to talk to me like your pet?” I snap. “This isn’t exactly fun for me, you know.”
“I need to see you close the laptop.”
Ah, so he doesn’t want me snooping. “What if I don’t?”
“We haven’t got time for this, but if you don’t, I’ll confine you to your room.”
“I didn’t even know Ihada room.” The screen loads, and he’s right. We haven’t got time. A mugshot of Antonio Romero fills one side of the screen. He’s got a thick neck and a shaggy mop of black hair. His face is covered in tattoos—covered. His pupils are small, making the whites of his eyes look huge. “Thisis the guy who has Mom?”
I take a photo, then switch through the pages—assault, kidnapping, armed robbery,murder. My bones are cold.
“You need to tell me who you are,” I whisper. “How can you go up against the cartel? What if he hurts you? How will I get out to look for Mom?”
“This worm won’t hurt me,” he growls. “I’m going to get your mom back. Now be a good g—I meanwoman—and video-chat me. I need to get to work.”
I do as he asks. Or maybeordersis a better way to think about it, though he corrected himself on thegirlthing. Putting the phone on selfie mode, I resist the ridiculous urge to smooth my hair. He appears on the screen, his eyes as sharp as ever. “Close it,” he says. “Then put the camera on it so I can see properly.”
“You’ve got trust issues, Jamie,” I say, but I can’t summon any sassiness, sarcasm, or anything without knowing what’s happening to Mom. I can’tflirtwith this man until she’s safe. No, not even after then.
I close the laptop and then flip the camera.
“Good,” he grunts. “Now I have to work.”
“Be—”Careful, but the jerk hangs up on me.
