Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet

“Pari, the only one who lied throughout this entire conversation was you.”

She balked. “You were reading my emotions?”

“Par, I can’t weed through them like you obviously think I can. I can’t pick and choose. It’s an all-or-nothing kind of gig.”

“Oh. So?” She raised her brows expectantly.

“Well, I did manage to figure out three things.”

“Wonderful.” She shimmied in her chair and settled in for the telling of my great and mighty insights.

“You’re afraid of squirrels. You’ve never been to Australia. And you’re a convicted felon.”

Her face fell. “I could’ve told you that.”

“Yes, but you didn’t. Now, why is that?”

With a defensive shrug, she said, “It was a long time ago. I was really young.”

“How young?”

“Twenty. Okay? Now, what did you think about—?”

“What were you convicted of?”

“Chuck, we aren’t here about me. So, which one did you like?”

“They were all three pretty great, though I’m having a hard time seeing you with an investment broker. But you have good taste, I’ll give you that. So, what were you convicted of?”

“Fine,” she said, grinding her teeth. “In a word, hacking.”

I could not have hidden my surprise if someone had paid me to.

“What? I was young.”

“You’re a computer whiz?”

“Was. Was a computer whiz. Now I’m not allowed near a computer. It’s the terms of my probation.”

“So, that means you’ve been on probation for almost nine years.”

“Yeah. I got ten years’ probation for hacking into a federal vault and funneling money to my mom’s bank account. I thought it would be funny. And it was until I got caught.”

“You funneled money?”

“Eighteen dollars.”

“Wow.” Apparently everyone knew how to funnel money but me. I was so behind the times. “I just never knew. But really? Only eighteen dollars?”

“That’s why I only got probation. Like I said, I just thought it would be funny.” Her shoulder lifted into an innocent shrug. “And I’d get bragging rights. You have no idea how addictive bragging rights are in the hacking world.”

“Obviously. But you have a computer in your office.”

“I can have one for business purposes.” She raised a finger to make sure I knew she was serious. “No Internet of any kind.”

“But you do have Internet. I saw Tre looking at  p**n  on your computer.”

“What?” She seemed appalled.

“Like you don’t do the same thing.”

“Yeah, but I don’t work for me. He does.”

“That’s why you were trying to rewire everything,” I said, the truth hitting me like a brick.

“He was looking at  p**n ?”

“You were trying to hide the fact that you have Internet.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, growing annoyed. “It’s so frustrating. I can’t even have a computer with a modem. So I have to work around that.”

“I am so in awe of you right now. I always wanted to be a computer whiz, and I would’ve been if not for Paul Sanchez.”

Her brows rose in question.

“He told me computers were alien technology and they used them to track us.”

“Weren’t you abducted by aliens once?”

I nodded. “Exactly why I stopped going around them. By the time I figured out Paul was wrong, I’d sailed past my prime. Now, thanks to him, I can hardly program a universal remote.”

She blinked. “So, about my dates?”

“You can do better.”

I looked up into the eyes of the bartender Dad had hired, only she was looking at Pari, and the invitation dripping off her in spades was like looking at a waterfall of sin and sensual degradation. A fact that was not lost on Pari if the dreamy expression on her face was any indication.

“I’m Sienna—” She slid a card across the table toward Pari. “—if you want to interview me.”

One corner of her mouth lifted into a wickedly dimpled grin before she turned and started out the back door.

“So,” Pari said, gathering herself in a rush of emotion, “you’re just going to walk away?”

Sienna flashed a gorgeous smile and walked back to us. And I was so not doing the interview thing again.

“I have to get something to eat before I die. And I need a mocha latte. Do they have those here?”

Pari shrugged, suddenly very disinterested in anything I had to say.

“Thanks for caring, Par.”

“What do you do, Sienna?”

The woman sat in my seat when I stood, making it clear I was not welcome. I felt so appreciated. I strolled to the front and ordered a carne adovada burrito, a sweet roll, and a café mocha. Then I had to figure out how I was going to pay for it. I pulled out my cards. Three of them. Everything I had left.

“Okay,” I said, trying to cipher in my head, “put three twenty-seven on this one.” I handed it to her. “And two fifty on the flowery one.” I handed her the flowery one, too.

The girl took the cards from me and rolled her eyes. I could’ve knocked the shit out of her. She’d have good reason to roll her eyes then. But knocking the shit out of rude people wasn’t my style. Heckling them every chance I got was. Hopefully she’d screw up soon. I didn’t have all day.